Chapter Text
“Cap said I’d find you here.”
Alex doesn’t turn around and doesn’t reply. “Run it again. Right from the top.”
At least Amos doesn’t ask what he’s doing, because if he did Alex might actually get up and punch him in the face.
“I brought you coffee.”
Alex pauses the simulation. He hasn’t so much as stood up for 12 hours and he’s running on fumes but coffee means he can probably do at least another 6 and get this 100% right.
“You can have it if you take a break for five minutes.”
Alex clenches his fist but only for a second because it feels like someone’s stomped on his hand. Son of a bitch. He exhales slowly. It’s not Amos’ fault, he knows, but it’s going to take a while before Alex can look at him without seeing 25 people whose lives were apparently not as important.
Alex holds out his hand and Amos steps up behind his chair and hands him the mug. And then doesn’t leave. Of course. But that first sip tastes like heaven and Alex reckons he can probably handle five minutes of Amos standing behind him. As long as he doesn’t talk.
“How’s it going with that?” Amos asks, leaning on the back of the chair.
“Fine.” He’s too tired to be angry or to elaborate, so he takes another sip and leans his head back.
What the—
Amos’ hands touch his shoulders and Alex almost drops his damn coffee. And then Amos is kneading and squeezing and pushing down with his thumbs.
The longer Alex stays quiet the more awkward it gets, for him at least. He’s missed his chance to audibly express dismay so he just sits there and cradles his coffee in his lap with both hands and sinks further into the chair. He was quite happy being completely oblivious to the pain in his back but Amos seems intent on digging up every single extra hour he’s spent in this chair.
“Breathe.”
Okay.
He’s the pilot of a stolen Martian warship and there’s a bunch of protocrap floating around the solar system and yet somehow getting a back rub from Amos is the weirdest thing that’s happened in a very long time. Scrap that, a back rub feels relaxing and this hurts like hell. Although… A few more minutes and Amos will probably work through the worst of the rat’s nest of knots and then it might actually feel good.
But just as suddenly as he started, Amos is done.
No way that was five minutes.
“Get some rest when you’re done,” Amos says before slapping him on the shoulder. Hard.
Amos doesn’t do anything just because. Is this his way of saying sorry? Thank you for not killing me? Something else way more cryptic? How the hell does he even know how Alex likes his coffee?
He’s too tired to think about this shit now. Dammit. He was better off being angry at Amos.
---
Alex absentmindedly traces the cracks in the glass and thinks about how strange this is, sitting drinking to Miller at the same table Amos broke trying to strangle him. That feels like a different life now. One that was ever-so-slightly simpler.
Holden and Naomi finish their drinks and get up, saying ‘goodnight’ almost in unison.
“One for the road?” Amos asks once they’re alone. One day Alex will ask him to explain what the hell that even means, but it’s not today.
“Yeah.” Alex slides his cup towards the bottle.
They sit mostly in silence, sipping, transfixed by the screen. Amos pours another shot when Eros makes impact.
Alex finishes his drink and rotates his cup on the table, weighing up the benefits of sleep over another round. Miller had good taste cause this is some damn fine gin.
Amos puts his cup down decisively and stands up. But he doesn’t leave. Instead he stops behind Alex and puts his hands on Alex’s shoulders.
“Nah brother, I’m good,” Alex protests.
“You kidding me? Working those controls at almost 20 gs hurts like hell.” It does and he proves his point when the slightest bit of pressure from his thumb sends a jarring pain down Alex’s arm.
“Aaaah dammit Amos!”
“I barely touched you.”
“Fine whatever just make it better!” Alex slumps forward and tries to breathe through the pain.
The part where it might get good seems to be slipping further and further away at this point. But it’s not exactly terrible. Amos’ hands are really warm and that in itself is pretty soothing after what their bodies have been through today. And without a chair in between them and Amos so close Alex’s entire back feels warm and tingly.
Actually that may be the gin. It really is good.
Alex drops his head forward and when Amos’ thumbs make their way to the base of his skull he shivers.
“Yeah you need to be lying down for this. Come past my quarters when you’re done for the night and I’ll fix you up proper.”
Alex mumbles in the most non-committal way he can muster and forgets to brace himself for the slap on his arm. He wonders whether Amos actually knows that it defeats the purpose.
He packs away the gin and makes his way back up to the flight deck even though there’s nothing for him to do there. But he sure as hell is not going to Amos’ quarters, so he’ll waste an hour and hopefully by that time Amos will be asleep and tomorrow he’ll forget he even offered. Besides, it’s nothing a hot shower and a good stretch won’t fix.
---
Alex does the shower part at least. Really really well. All the way up until he gets a water usage warning which has never happened before so fine, okay, no need to shout darling’, he’ll get out.
There’s steam coming off his skin when he steps back out into the cool air of his bedroom. Alex looks up from drying his hair with a towel when he hears the whoosh of the door.
“Oh good you’re ready.” Amos looks him up and down and doesn’t wait for an invitation or permission to step inside. “Pretty sure I said my quarters but this works too I guess.”
Jesus Christ. For a second all Alex can think about is that he’s glad he put on underwear.
“Amos?” Alex tries to look bewildered, but Amos just looks at him like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“I’m really keen to get some sleep so anytime you’re ready.” Amos motions to the bed.
In all fairness he didn’t say no and Amos is the type that needs clear instructions so… Goddammit is Alex really making excuses for him now? He shakes his head and throws his towel on a chair, and then hesitantly lies prone on the bed.
He feels the mattress dip at his side and something like anticipation runs up his spine, and then Amos is on top of him. It feels comforting, maybe in the same way as being strapped in tight when you hit zero-g.
Jesus Christ he’s been in space far too long if his only comparison to honest-to-god real human touch is sitting in a damn chair and maybe next time they’re docked he should go out and spend some scrip and rediscover the feeling.
Alex grips the pillow when Amos’ hands touch the bare skin of his back. They’re warm and his touch is firm and, son of a bitch, Amos has been holding out on him because this feels so good. It’s all smooth, slow strokes and none of that trying-to-get-under-his-skin nonsense from before.
Too soon.
“Aaah what the hell Amos?”
“Sorry, wanted to get you to relax.” Amos chuckles as he kneads a spot under Alex’s shoulder blade. “Breathe.”
Okay.
Alex wonders where he learnt all of this, but, as with all of Amos’ other bizarre skills, he probably doesn’t want to know. Besides, you don’t get a body like Amos without pulling a few muscles. That’s the last thought Alex has before his mind goes mostly blank and he loses track of time.
“Hang on,” Amos says, snapping him out of his daze. Alex hears a zipper and feels Amos wriggling on top of him.
“What the hell are you doing?” He knows Amos is taking off the top half of his jumpsuit but he feels like he needs to protest somehow.
“This thing is tight as hell.”
The warm fabric hits the back of Alex’s thighs and something changes and his blissfully empty mind is now filled with thoughts of how obscenely low Amos tends to unzip that thing on a good day.
Everything starts to feel good, even the bad parts. Amos touching him feels good. The way he rocks ever so slightly when he has further to reach. The way that pushes Alex’s hips into the bed—
Jesus.
He’s been away from other people for too long. It’s definitely some kind of cabin fever. The Cant had less than sixty other people but it sure as hell beat three, no matter how much he loves them. The Cant… Damn, he barely even knew Amos back then. He was just some brute who nobody wanted to be stuck in a room with unless Naomi was there too. And now Alex is alone in a room with him, mostly undressed, vulnerable, and feeling a strange and different kind of dread.
“Am I hurting you?” Amos asks.
“What? No.”
“Just checking cause you got all tense.”
“I’m fine, sorry.” Shit.
“Should probably call it a night anyway, else you’re gonna be all tender tomorrow.” Amos gets up and it’s equal parts relief and agony. “Get some rest Martian.”
Alex sighs into the pillow. They’ll be at Tycho tomorrow and he’ll go to a bar and hook up with someone, spend some scrip if he has to, and reacquaint himself with the joy of human touch.
---