hare-brained ideas

He hovered near the foot of your bed, twisting his fingers into the fabric as he spotted your face buried into the comfortable bedding. He knew he shouldn’t wake you, but the image of your lifeless face was still vivid in his head.

Nightmares were common for both of you, of course, but they frequented his mind more than yours. The traumatic moments before his forced shipment aboard the Hail Mary was the most common sequence, but lately you started appearing in them too. 

Specifically, his mind decided to attack his worries about not being able to save you. 

The thoughts had plagued him before he was safe and sound on Erid. Scenarios where the oxygen failed on the ship and you fell asleep and never woke up. Where your tether broke during a spacewalk and you drifted helplessly away into the endless void of space. 

He’d be alone. Even though he had Rocky, there were some things about being human that the Eridian wouldn’t understand or relate to.

Tonight was the worst by far, though.

His mind had supplied him with images of you becoming trapped during that awful ship spin before Rocky had saved you both. You were slowly suffocating while the gravity slowly increased in that cockpit. He couldn’t even call your name with his chest compressed against the ship’s console.

He awoke with a start, and hadn’t been able to sleep for hours. 

Now, here he was, about to wake you up because of his own worries. Ryland wandered slowly to the side of your bed with sweaty palms, and carefully reached out a hand. He settled it on your blanket covered shoulder, and shook it gently.

He whispered your name, hesitating when you didn’t wake up immediately. This was a bad idea, he thought, but before he could retreat, he heard the distinct sound of that deep breath you took. A sure sign that you were waking up.

“Ryland?” You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes. “You okay? Somethin’ wrong?” You sat up, the blanket slipping down your form as you reached for the small light on your bedside table. 

When you flicked it on, you recognized the familiar post-nightmare expression on his face. Ryland’s hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions from running his hands through it. His blue eyes were slightly puffy, possibly from crying, and underlined with tired circles behind his glasses. His blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, like a protection from the horrible dream.

“I just…” He hesitated, looking down at his hands for a moment. “It sounds stupid but…I had a nightmare, and I couldn’t really fall asleep?” He huffed, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You smiled at him. You didn’t mind. You never really did when it came to him. “You wanna talk about it?” You suggested, patting the bed next to you. 

Ryland took the offered spot next to you without another word. He settled into the pillows, laying down right next to you as he stared at the ceiling. “Can I just…stay? Just for a little bit?” He murmured. 

He couldn’t even meet your eye. 

“Of course,” You laid down right next to him, and turned to your side to face him. “You can stay.” 

“Thanks,” Ryland sighed, and you felt his body relax next to you. 

“Anytime,” You muttered. You reached up and took the frames off of his face, setting them gently on the bedside table before turning off the light. The room sank into darkness. “Get some rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good plan,” He responded, stifling a yawn beside you as you settled back into the blankets. His hand brushed against yours, like he was trying to prove that you were here, that you were alive and well right there next to him. 

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you threaded your fingers through his. You heard his breath hitch in the dark room as you tugged him closer. 

“Uh…what are you doing?” He whispered.

“Shhh,” You hushed him, slowly threading your fingers through his hair. He practically melted against you, and a small contented sound escaped his throat before he could stop it.

“That’s…nice…” Ryland muttered, sinking into your arms without resistance. His breathing slowed against your collarbones and you both drifted off, closer than you expected to be tonight.

The artificial dawn light creeped in through the curtains of your Eridian bedroom. You blinked your eyes open slowly, breathing in a deep breath through your nose as your senses slowly came back to you. 

The first thing you felt was a warm arm curled snugly around your waist. Followed by the feeling of long legs tangled with your own.

The final thing you noticed was the steady sound of Ryland’s breathing. Small puffs of warm air brushed your collarbones as he slept soundly in the crook of your neck. 

Right. The nightmare.

You shifted the smallest bit, just enough to catch a glimpse of his sleeping face. His expression was calm, his eyes closed and his mouth parted just slightly in the early morning light. The wrinkles that usually accompanied his every expression were nearly invisible, just faint lines near his eyes and brows. 

You reached down and brushed the hair away from his forehead, only stopping when his brows furrowed softly in confusion. 

“Mmm…” He groaned as his eyes looked blearily up at you. “Wh’time is it?” 

“Too early,” You said softly. 

“Definitely,” He grumbled as he nestled back into the crook of your neck, sending a cozy warmth through your chest. Without thinking, you pressed a kiss to his hairline. 

He hummed when he felt your lips meet his forehead, smiling against the soft skin of your neck. “Do that again,”

“You are demanding in the morning, aren’t you?” You mumbled before pressing another kiss against his forehead.

He huffed out a small laugh, and you felt his smile spread wider. “I’m not demanding…” he mumbled “Y’just really warm. Coulda been doin’ this months ago. Just gotta make up for lost time.” He sighed in contentment and tightened his hold on your waist, hugging you closer just to hear you breathe.

“Is that so?” You asked him, and you watched as he tilted his head back just enough to meet your eye. 

“Absolutely.” He murmured, his voice still rough from sleep. He looked up at you with those sleepy blue eyes, and that soft smile on his face.

You just couldn’t resist it.

You slid a hand to his jaw and leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He hummed against you, returning it just as softly, like he had all the time in the world. A cozy heat spread from where your lips met all the way to your chest and down your spine.

When you parted, he let out a small, giddy laugh. 

“Oh, geez,” he whispered, and when you looked at him, his eyes were still closed. He cleared his throat, and finally looked up at you with a sheepish smile. “Shoulda been doing that months ago too.”

“Guess we should make up for lost time,” You teased as you spotted the light blush dusting his cheeks.

That night ended the same. You were too drunk to remember most of it, but your friends had gladly repeated the events that happened on that dance floor. Including the part where you insisted on spinning the poor victim around so much that they got dizzy and your friends had to physically pry you off of them.

Ever since then, you’ve sworn off of any sort of dancing (and drinking!), only allowing yourself to bop your head to the beat when a catchy song came on the radio. 

Now, as you sat in the middle of the Hail Mary’s dormitory, you wish you hadn’t remembered that your feet worked backwards and your body doesn’t know what to do with itself when a song comes on. 

Because Ryland Grace sat across the room, your microbiologist crewmate and current nightmare. He was in the middle of a discussion with Rocky on human tradition, unknowingly distracting you from your reading when the D word was mentioned.

“Dance, question?” The Eridian’s translator spoke from where Ryland held it near his xenonite biosphere.

“Yeah, dancing!” Ryland said with a smile. “It’s a fun thing to do. You listen to music and move your body to the beat.” He wiggled in his seated position as he grooved to an invisible beat.

Rocky tilted his carapace as he filed that information away into his mind. “Grace dance good, question?”

“I…think so? I did win the award for the best moves at the school dance,” He smiled in that awkward way and gestured to himself. “You’re talking to a pretty good dancer.” 

“Dancer, statement.” Rocky repeated the word in his own language. “Human moves body, statement. Enjoyment, question?”

“Exactly! There’s a lot of different dances too. Like, there’s small ones you can do on your own, or ones you can do with a partner.” Ryland gestured as he talked. You never knew he could get this into talking about human culture, but then again, you’d talk with Rocky for hours about anything.

“Partner, question?” Rocky asked, shifting in his biosphere. “Crewmate, question? Dance together, question?” 

You looked up from where you were reading over the lab reports. No, nope. That was not happening. You quickly turned back to your paper and tried to hide your expression.

“Oh, yeah. You can waltz, or slow dance…” Ryland chose that exact moment to look over his shoulder at you, just in time to catch your panicked expression. “Are you okay? Do you…not like dancing?” He let out a small, awkward laugh as he scratched his cheek. “If it’s offending you, we can switch topics.”

“I have a complicated history with dancing,” You answered, hoping your face didn’t betray your inner turmoil. You decided to try to resume reading, but your brain didn’t even compute the words.

“Complicated?” Ryland chuckled and turned his body as he tried to keep you in the conversation. He was not about to let it go. Not when you were sitting over there looking like you would rather be ejected from the Hail Mary. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Complicated,” You repeated and nodded once, keeping your eyes trained on the paper.

Ryland wasn’t so easily redirected, though. He wasn’t used to you being so…awkward. Normally that would be his job, since he was the one always tripping over his feet and his words. He only debated it for a minute, before he stood up from where he sat by the xenonite biosphere.

You heard his footsteps before his shadow overtook the light on your notes. You kept your head stubbornly turned down, rereading the same line about the light output of Astrophage at least three times.

You only looked up when he said your name. There he stood with his hands on his hips as he used that same expression that you were sure he used on his students back on Earth. 

“What does complicated mean?” He asked as he tilted his head like a puppy at a particularly confusing bug. 

“It means I’m not good at dancing. I’m awful at it,” You admitted as your cheeks burned. How embarrassing was that? Admitting that you were useless on the dancefloor. Not just to your crewmate, who’s a super smart microbiologist, but also to one of the first intelligent life forms humanity has ever met.

Of course, Rocky had to make it worse.

“Grace, crewmate, statement. Dance together, question?” The computer translated Rocky’s chords from beside the biosphere. “Grace teach, statement. Crewmate learn, statement. Solve problem, question?”

“Rocky, that’s a great idea!” Ryland exclaimed as you dragged your hands down your face. The memory of prom came flooding back in specific details. You could almost hear the muttered curses in your old boyfriend’s voice. 

“I can teach you, and then Rocky can get his data! It’s a win win, honestly—“

“Ryland, I’m telling you,” You laughed awkwardly as you waved your hands in a desperate manner, like you could clear this idea from the air before it took root. “I am not good at dancing. Never have been, never will be. I’m only good at crushing toes and your hopes for a good dance partner.”

“Well,” he said as he walked slowly across the room, standing with his arms spread by the biosphere. “There’s no time like the present. Computer, play some waltzing music.” 

You started to panic as the strings swelled through the ship’s crackly speakers. “Wait-wait, no, Ryland, I’m being serious—“ 

“So am I,” He said as he adjusted his glasses. “Come on. No one’s gonna make fun of you. Besides, it’s important to Rocky. You don’t want to leave this out of his studies, right?” He gestured to the Eridian, who chimed in with his musical language.

“I agree, statement,” The translator added. He shimmied his carapace in anticipation. “I want to see how dance works, statement.”

“That’s cruel,” You muttered as you set the papers aside and stood up from your desk. “Using Rocky against me.” 

You crossed the room slowly, feeling both Ryland and Rocky’s eyes on you. Well, as much as Rocky could watch you, anyway. 

“It’s not as hard as it looks, I promise,” Ryland said as he held his hand out. To you, it looked like the launch button to an atomic bomb. “May I have this dance?” He said, a bit too genuine to be entirely joking.

“I…guess, yeah.” You slid your hand into his hesitantly, your clammy palm sticking to his. Warmth ran through you from the contact, slowly spreading to your chest.  “Just don’t sue me when you end up with more broken toes than actual dance moves.” 

“Sue you? Of what?” Ryland laughed, guiding your other hand to his shoulder. You could feel that his palm was a bit sweaty too, the only betrayal of his own nerves. “I don’t think we even have money out here.” 

“You’ll want to, anyway,” You answered before his hand slid to the small of your back. Your breath hitched, even though he was barely touching you through the fabric of your t-shirt. Still trying to maintain that respectful distance despite performing a very romantic dance for an alien.

“Is this alright?” He asked under his breath, trying to study your face to see if you were truly uncomfortable. His sky-blue eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your face heat up all over again. 

“Yeah. Let’s just…dance.” You said and the last word tasted like poison on your tongue. The word that had doomed all of your social life. The word that immediately brought back the embarrassment of every single retelling of the many stories from your failed attempts. Retold at every instance. Every party, every holiday, every new friendship started with “Have you heard of the one time they went to that club?”

“Heart rate increased, statement. Is there danger, question?” Rocky stated, filling the void in the conversation. 

“No, no danger. They’re just nervous,” Ryland explained as his fingers trembled on your back. “I’m nervous too, okay? I mean, I can’t even remember the last time I waltzed.” He huffed out a laugh as an awkward smile spread on his face.

You returned the smile as best as you could with your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Right. So…” Ryland hoisted your joined hands to shoulder height, and looked down at your feet. “I know it’s tempting to stare at your feet. But it’ll be easier if you just keep your eyes up. It’s like a rhythm,” He met your nervous expression with a patient smile. “Don’t look so nervous. You’re just learning.”

“Right. Just learning. Yeah,” You nodded, your smile just as convincing as your trembling voice. “Go on. What’s first?” 

“Step back with your right foot,” He instructed, and you did as he said. “Good. See? You got the first step without crushing any toes.” 

“Crewmate good dancer, statement.” The Eridian agreed from the other side of the room.

You felt a small jolt of excitement rush through you. You did it! One dance step without a total disaster! Maybe you could actually learn this?

“Yeah. Let’s try the next one,” You grinned and looked up just in time to see an encouraging smile.

“See? Knew you’d be a natural,” Ryland responded, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “Now the next step. Step to the side with your left foot,” He led you to the side. Your left foot slipped as soon as you stepped though, and you grabbed onto his shoulder with a frantic grip.

“Whoa, easy!” He steadied you with a tight hand on the small of your back. “Don’t break your ankles before we get through the whole thing. One more step, and you’ve got it. You’re doing great,” He praised as you let out a nervous laugh.

“I told you I’m not built for this,” You insisted again, but the fight was already draining out of you within the first two steps of the dance. You looked back down at your feet again, trying to memorize the past steps already.

“Eyes up here,” Ryland reminded you softly. “You don’t have to be perfect to be a good dancer. You just have to have fun, you know? Just enjoy it. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his, and he nodded. “There we go. Now, bring your feet together.”

You moved your right foot next to your left, and Ryland grinned. “That’s it! That’s all there is to it!” He laughed. He looked so genuinely excited for your progress that you couldn’t help but laugh right back.

You practiced for an hour straight just like that, with Rocky watching attentively the whole time. Ryland supported you when you slipped, grasping your waist and intertwined fingers to keep you steady. He never teased you about your two left feet, never asked about your past experiences. He even joined your excited giggles when you made a full turn without stumbling.

“So, what do you think about dancing now?” He asked after you successfully waltzed multiple turns in a row with him. 

“I think that you’re a really good teacher,” You smiled at him. This one was warmer, less awkward now that you had been in his personal space for the last hour. 

“That was my whole job on Earth, remember?” He teased lightly, and eyes never left yours. “Have you ever considered that you’re just a good student?”

“Impossible,” You responded. “My whole life I’ve been named the worst dancer in the world. Your incredible teaching abilities have saved me. It’s a miracle, honestly,” 

Ryland’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink at your compliment. “It’s nothing, really.” He said with an awkward shrug. He decided to spin you out at that moment, the Hail Mary’s walls turning around you as you ducked under his arm.

You stumbled back into him on the return, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. “Whoa, easy there!” He steadied you with both hands splayed across your back. “You okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m-I’m okay,” You responded, not trusting your brain to come up with a coherent sentence. 

“Face leaking heat, question? Heart rate increase, question?” 

The translator’s robotic voice made you both jump. “Danger, question?” Rocky chimed, looking antsy in his biosphere. “Help, question? Nervous, question?”

“No no, it’s okay,” You stammered and looked at Rocky, offering a sheepish smile. “Just tripped.”

“Yeah, no need to worry, Rocky,” Ryland agreed and looked back at you. “Just a small malfunction.”

“Humans are not efficient, statement. Face always leak, statement.” Rocky responded, his carapace lowering in relief.

After that, waltzing became a regular thing on the Hail Mary. Sometimes Ryland led you around the dormitory, his fingers tangled with yours and his palm firm on your lower back. Eventually Rocky would ask for you two to waltz, just to hear that lovely and romantic violin play over the speakers.

It had also become one of your favorite ways to relieve the stress of carrying the fate of humanity in the small ship. Especially when Ryland was burnt out.

Today was one of those days. It had been a long 24 hours, and Ryland was at the end of his rope. His back was hunched over the lab table as he tried to read over the notes he took. The letters swirled and blurred on the paper, and no matter how many times he cleaned his glasses, he could not just focus.

You noticed, of course, when he started mumbling under his breath, trying to make sense of the jumbled words that he had swore he wrote just hours before. You decided he needed a break.

“Ryland?” You asked tentatively and looked over his shoulder at the paper on the table. “I think you need a break.” 

“No, no. I’ve almost got it,” He protested, scribbling something else onto the nearly filled paper. His other hand slid through his already mussed hair.

“Come on,” You rested a hand on his tense shoulder. “A dance?”

Ryland sighed. He looked over his shoulder at you, and smiled softly. He could never really say no to you.

“One dance,” He muttered as he stood up from his cramped position. He stretched his arms above his head, his science pun t-shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin. 

You averted your eyes, of course, and stepped back enough to make room for him. The music swelled from the speakers, and you reached for his hand. He made a quiet noise of disagreement and moved both of your hands over his shoulders. He looped his arms around your waist, and slumped his forehead on your shoulder.

“Okay…” You said as he pulled you closer, slowly swaying back and forth to the swell of the strings and the gentle three beat rhythm. “This is…new.”

“Sorry,” He mumbled, sighing into the crook of your neck. “Just…tired.” 

“It’s alright,” You understood it. You really did. The weight of saving all of humanity got to you too. It made you feel desperate at times, like you didn’t even have time to sleep because the answer was waiting to be discovered. 

You rubbed your hands down between his shoulder blades as you swayed to the music. He almost slept right there. You felt it in the way the tension and stress practically melted out of him.

“Thanks,” He mumbled against the warmth of your neck, his breathing already slowing down. You were surprised that he was so relaxed, since you swore he could hear your heart pounding.

You’ll find the right person, his mom had said to him when he visited home, giving him that look that only parents could conjure. The I love you but where are my grandkids? look. 

So he took his mom’s advice. He’d wait, get the right moment, and it would happen. Just like in the movies and books. They meet, sparks fly, and they kiss and live happily ever after. 

It was a good plan. A great plan, in his opinion. Why rush? He was still a young man in his 30’s, he told himself. He just watched as everyone he knew got married, settled down, had kids. It was fine. Everything would work out.

Until he woke up in the middle of space, barely remembering his own name.

He could convert feet to meters in an instant, calculate the gravity of something by using a centrifuge, and chart his way back to Earth with complicated tech attached to the ship. But it took him longer to remember how he got here, shipped off to some distant solar system.

You were the one thing that stayed constant in the one place that gravity definitely wasn’t. You became his anchor, his dry land in the sea of confusion as he tried to drag his drowning mind out of the effects the drugs had on him. You helped explain your mission, watched him handle the Astrophage like a pro, and laughed when you both vomited during that time you experienced zero gravity for the first time.

Eventually, the memories came back, though. His thoughts were like a trickle, slowly filling up a cup in his mind before it overflowed with emotions and specific facts that left him reeling. You even hugged him when he sobbed about how badly he wished he were back on Earth, back teaching his 8th grade class, without making it awkward or worse. You just rubbed his back through the fabric of his science pun t-shirt, letting his tears soak your hoodie. 

Ever since then, you had kept an eye on him.

You’d watch him in your peripheral, listening for that pause in his scientific rambling, watching for the unfocused look in his eyes. Like he was here, but his mind was somewhere else. 

Today was once of those days where his mind had finally decided to reveal a portion of memories he had forgotten.

Specifically his love life.

He found out that there wasn’t much to remember in that aspect, though he still shared the stories with you. To your surprise, Ryland wasn’t embarrassed at all about his bad luck in romance. He merely found it hilarious.

“It was so awkward, I wanted to just crawl into the floorboards!” He flailed his hands, accidentally knocking his glasses off his face. He snagged them before they floated too far away. “I mean, I think I just froze. And stared at her. In the middle of our…date? If you can even call it that.” Ryland pushed the brown frames back up the bridge of his nose with a knuckle. “It was a disaster. I’m telling you, I’m not meant for romance.”

You nodded along to the story, still fiddling with the computer. You were trying to get your mind off of the fact that you two were responsible for saving the human race. When you woke up before him and spotted the mummified remains of the rest of your crew, it hit you pretty hard. You even thought that he was dead too, and you nearly cried from relief when you saw him actually breathe despite being in a coma.

Ryland had suggested watching a movie, and somehow you settled on rom coms. “Something light that won’t make me cry or have an existential crisis.” was what he said.

“Aha! I got it!” You exclaimed, finally managing to pull up the stash of movies that were downloaded onto the ship’s computer. It’s one you’ve seen a thousand times, one you can quote by heart.

“So…I’m sure you have some stories too, right?” He asked, perching precariously on the edge of your bed. Keeping a respectful, crewmate distance while still being close enough to see the screen. 

“What?”

“You know. Disaster dates? Or maybe you’re a lot better at it than me,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

The romantic strings swelled as the title appeared on the small screen. The familiarity of it leaves a warmth in your chest instead of a pit.

“Oh, yeah,” You shook off the nostalgia and turned to him. “One time I had this guy stick me with the check at a restaurant after he ordered like, the biggest thing on the menu. He just insisted that he’d cover the next date, but I never heard from him after that.”

“Oh, yikes,” He cringed in empathy. “Like a dine and dash but somehow worse.” Ryland shook his head, his eyes trained on the screen. “I’d never do something like that.”

That hit you square in the chest. 

Because of course he would never stick someone with a check. He’s probably the type of guy to insist on opening every door for you. He’d make sure you got home safe. He’d probably even bring you flowers.

What hit you even harder is that he never got the chance.

Ryland never got the chance to take someone out on a date that he enjoyed. He never got the chance to buy someone chocolates or roses for Valentine’s Day, or even have a wedding.

And now he never would.

Ryland noticed the silence after he said that. The movie chattered on in the background, something about a famous actress and an average guy, but he’s not even paying attention anymore. All he saw was the way your smile faltered, the way your eyes were focused on the screen but you weren’t really watching it.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, tilting his head at you. His eyes are focused on yours, and you swear you’ve never noticed how blue they were before now. Like the skies back on Earth that you missed so dearly.

“Yeah,” You nodded and offered a small smile. “Of course.”

It only got worse after that.

When the couple finally kissed on screen, you felt him stiffen beside you. His eyes darted away from the screen, a small blush spreading across his cheekbones in the low light of the dormitory. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You teased as you nudged his shoulder. 

“Nothing!” He claimed. Ryland adjusted his position on the bed, his navy crewneck shifting against the smooth bedding.  “Just a shift in the temperature control. I’m sure of it.” He nodded while his fingers tugged at the worn cuff near his wrist.

That wasn’t convincing. The temperature hadn’t changed from a steady 21.1 degrees Celsius—or 70 degrees Fahrenheit—since you had woken up. There’d be no reason for it to shift now.

“Right. You’re acting like you’ve never seen someone kiss before. I thought you liked rom coms,” You watched his blush grow further, the pink color infecting his ears now too.

“I’ve seen people kiss before! I’m not that much of a sheltered scientist. Microbiology, remember?” He gestured to himself, and scoffed as if it weren’t affecting him, however, the color remained on his face.

It clicked then. He’d never been kissed before. Or if he has, it’s been a long time.

It should have been so obvious from the way he  talked about his failed dates. From the way his tone shifted, barely perceptible, from amusement to longing. From the way he paid attention to your past romantic experiences like he’d been experiencing them himself. 

You fought with yourself for nearly five minutes after the epiphany. The thoughts ranged from This could compromise the whole mission to he deserves someone that takes care of him.

You decided to make your move. Slowly, subtly, like approaching a skittish animal, you slid your hand over his. The moment your fingers brushed his knuckles, he stiffened all over again. 

Then his hand turned over, and his long fingers intertwined with yours. They slid into place like they were always meant to be there. He let out a shaky breath beside you, and when you dared to look up at him, his eyes were still trained on the screen.

“Ryland?”

“Hm?” He hummed, his palm clammy with nerves against yours. He was so nervous that he couldn’t even look at you. 

“Breathe,”

“Right. Breathing. I can do that.” His voice trembled as he spoke, but he managed to take a deep breath. When he let it out, his shoulders sank from their tense position.

When he finally turned his head and looked at you, it was your turn to be a little nervous. Especially when his eyes flicked down to your lips before snapping back up to meet your gaze. A move so obvious, so endearing, so him that it made your heart stutter in your chest.

“I’ve got you,” You said softly, offering a small, gentle smile when you felt his hand tremble in yours. 

Then you leaned over and kissed him. 

He froze at first, unmoving and so warm against your lips before he took a long, deep breath in through his nose and kissed you back. 

Ryland realized that the movies could never quite do it justice. There weren’t any fireworks or frantic moves. There was just the steadying softness of your hand on his stubbled jaw while a quiet warmth spread through his chest.

He clutched your intertwined hands like they were a lifeline, like he was drowning in you and needed something to pull him up for air. 

When you finally parted, he didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against yours, and just looked at you through fogged glasses like he couldn’t believe that you would actually kiss him.

“Are you okay?” You smiled at him and tilted your head. How could one man be so impossibly endearing?

“Okay? Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Great. Fantastic, even,” He rambled out, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. He smiled back at you, a small, shy thing that made him look younger. “Are you? Was that okay? It’s-it’s been a while since—”

You cut him off with another kiss, and you heard him gasp against your lips before returning it. Your hand slid from his jaw into his hair, your fingers carding slowly through the blond strands. 

Ryland swore he was melting from the inside out. When your fingers ran through his hair, softly scratching his scalp, he felt his stomach swoop like he was experiencing zero gravity for the first time all over again. 

After that kiss, he never really separated from you.

He’d find you staring at the ship’s control screens, lost in your thoughts. You never noticed, thank god,  that he would stand there for a long time, trying to hype himself up to finally slide his arms around your waist.

Ryland would hover near you whenever you went to one of the other levels of the ship. He followed you around like a puppy, helping where he could before you shooed him back to his lab. He’d retreat with a guilty smile, saying something about just wanting to help. He got used to having you around not just as a crewmate but as someone who really, truly cared for him.

He never really got used to the kisses, though.

There were the simple, small pecks to his cheek that you’d share before bed. Where you pressed your soft lips to his stubble before wishing him sweet dreams every time you two slept. Where his cheeks would never really cool before he fell asleep.

There were the ones you had when you couldn’t get enough of each other. When he’d catch your eye from the other side of the Hail Mary’s small lab and smile giddily at you. So of course, you had to stand up from your chair and deliver. “One more, then back to work,” You’d say, and he’d just grin like he knew you couldn’t stay away for long.

But Ryland’s favorite?

The ones where you’d kiss him in artificial gravity. Where you would fist your hands in the collar of his shirt and pull him into your lips. When his hands had finally learned what to do, where to land on your waist. One hand always stayed gripping the closest piece of furniture, though, since you made his knees feel like jelly every time you tilted your head to deepen it. 

He’d pull away with clouded glasses and the biggest, dorkiest grin on his face. “Could you do that again?” He would ask in the smallest voice, his heart still pounding against his ribcage where he was sure you could hear it in the quiet of the ship. Of course, who are you to deny him? 

After a while, you ended up sleeping in the same bed. When he got used to being close to you, he could barely take his hands off of you. The same goes for when he slept, where he pressed his cheek against your chest just to hear your heart beat. He would cling to you like a barnacle, pulling your body to his, trying to get as close as possible. It felt like he was trying to merge you two into one being, despite his extensive knowledge of physics that told him it wasn’t possible.