Chapter Text
“Hey…Anya?” Curly asks, trying not to sound as unsure as he feels. He's the captain. But he's been losing his mind over this. And he feels his brain unwind in fear every time Jimmy is near him-
He freezes and casually asks, “Why do you think Pony Express put a lock on the medical room door but not on the sleeping quarters?"
Jimmy has been looking at him differently.
He only noticed because Anya pointed it out to him one day, after his last psych eval, off the record.
He'd been puzzled at why she would say such a thing, and she'd just shrugged and apologized.
But then he'd burst into Curly's sleeping quarters while he was changing one night, and Curly had frozen. Then he'd seen it.
Curly isn't sure what to make of it.
Jimmy's started grabbing his hair - threading his fingers through it and pulling - Jimmy's eyes going dark with a glint of…something. He usually sneers about ‘blond, pretty boys’ or something similar. And then Jimmy is back to normal, rambling about how shitty the food on the Tulper is.
It's always so abrupt. Sometimes Curly swears he imagines it. He always tells himself that he'll confront him about it next time.
Always next time.
Anya blinks her large, dark eyes at him.
“I was wondering that too. It actually…really unsettled me when I started working here. I mean, thankfully it's been fine, but…”
Curly nods, “Still see that pixel?”
Anya grins, looking equal parts exasperated and amused, “Unfortunately!”
Curly manages his first laugh in weeks.
“Blondie.” Jimmy sneers. Curly’s mind goes a bit blank in shock. Right. Jimmy was doing it again.
Jimmy's always been a bit…mean. It wasn't his fault, Curly knew where he came from and Jimmy had a lot of good points too. As children he remembers Jimmy beating his bullies half to death in middle school.
By the time he realizes that Jimmy has also reached around and taken a handful of his ass, Jimmy has let him go and is across the room, flipping through their flight plans.
Like nothing happened.
Curly can't help but wonder if the fact that Pony Express only lets him sleep for five hours at a time is starting to mess with his memory. That or the monotony of space.
Curly tries to look for that pixel. He can't see it.
A day after Anya tells him about the screen Curly doesn't take his allotted sleep time. He sits in the lounge, eyes on the corner of the digital picture of the night sky.
Still looking for that pixel. He wonders if he can convince Anya to climb the ladder and point it out one day. He squints a bit, trying not to let his eyes unfocus in exhaustion. The crew needed him pretty much every second today, unlocking supplies and authorizing repairs for Swansea and Daisuke to do. Curly hasn't been sleeping much. Jimmy has been coming into his room pretty much every night since…then. He's been trying not to think about it. Ever since the first time Jimmy has been getting along a bit better with the crew. Curly is the captain, should he be happier about that?
He should be. But…after telling them about their soon to be unemployment…something about Jimmy's reaction made him not want to be caught in his quarters tonight.
“So you’re just going to leave, huh?”
Curly frowns, startled. Jimmy is fuming silently in the doorway, his eyes glinting again. Curly feels something like dread writhe in his chest when Jimmy stalks toward him.
“Jim, we've talked about this. I just want to-”
Jimmy throws him onto the floor of the lounge, right next to the couch Curly was just sitting on. Curly's mind immediately turns to the crew. They were all asleep in their quarters, but if someone came how would Curly explain this? What was Jimmy doing? Here?
“Too good to stay in the mud with us, huh?”
“That's not what I was saying -!”
Curly's thoughts cut off when he feels Jimmy on top of him, hands scrambling for his zipper.
“You want this. You always do. Always looking at me like that.”
“What the fuck are you-mmf!”
Jimmy wrestles him to his front, a crushing grip at his neck pinning him down. Curly's face is almost suffocated into the carpet until he is able to struggle and turn his head to the side. The screen.
“It's you or your crew, Captain. But not because of me. Because of you. This is your fault.”
Curly’s mind flattens like it always does when Jimmy presses inside him.
His eyes wander to the corner of the screen, Jimmy's grunts echoing in his head.
The dead pixel.
Ah. There it is.
He can see it.
Jimmy slams into him once more and comes.
“Leaving us while you go off and move up in the world. I can't believe how selfish you are, Curly. You never cared.”
Curly wants to defend himself. Tell Jimmy he's wrong. He just wants to do something he doesn't hate. That doesn't strand him into space for years at a time, living on five hours of sleep. Pony Express going down isn't his fault.
Is it?
Curly can't answer. He can't think. He just feels Jimmy's come leaking out of him as he lies there, dazedly watching the other man button his pants.
Jimmy turns to leave. Curly needs to say something. Tell Jimmy that he's not trying to get away from him.
He can't say anything.
Curly limps his way to his sleeping quarters. The thought of Daisuke finding him like that isn't an option. No one can know. Jimmy was just upset. He can
talk to him. Explain himself.
Curly can fix this.