A little Raccoon

You sighed and tilted your head back slightly; your neck was stiff and your shoulders aching. You had little idea what kind of mood Kid was in but the fact that he wasn’t stalking the deck while waiting for you was a little suspicious.  

The workshop door was swung wide open and you walked in, breathing in the familiar scent of oil and hot metal in the air. When you’d first boarded the Victoria, you hated how everything smelled of iron and grease, how it clung to your clothes and hair long after you left the room.

Now it comforted you in a way little else could. You’d missed all of it but mostly, you’d missed knowing he was somewhere close by.

Kid’s gaze immediately snapped to you, agitation brimming in his glare. “You’re a day late.”

“I know,” you huffed, tugging the cloak from your shoulders. You threw it over a scrap of metal and hoped it wouldn’t rip. “I came across a storm and had to wait for it to pass. That piece of driftwood I was in would have been underwater immediately.”

“Wouldn’t have been a problem if we sailed together. I’m surprised you didn’t drown with that thing.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered.

He did seem a little more on edge than you’d expected but you were far too tired to dissect what was under his skin this time.

If you’d had the opportunity to travel alongside him rather than in a tiny boat with less room than a cupboard, obviously you would have taken him with you. Then again, you’d realised that Kid often overlooked just how much you preferred his company.

You grabbed a ratty, old metal chair that had barely any padding left on it anymore and sat at the only clear table, lowering your head onto your arms.

It wasn’t the most comfortable spot but sleep sounded so nice at the moment.

To just rest and finally catch up on all the hours you missed while floating on that tiny soapbox…

“Oi, don’t pass out there! I need that table!”

“Work around me.”

“Like hell I will! Go and get some actual sleep!”

You opened one eye to give him an annoyed look. “Can’t. Everything’s too noisy down there.”

“What? Everybody’s awake and busy.”

“Then it’s too cold.”

“You have blankets enough.”

“Maybe I want to spend time with you because I’ve missed you.”

For a second, he didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed at you. Then he made a loud scoffing noise and turned back to the metal in front of him. “Whatever. If you get back pain from sleeping half on a fucking table, I don’t want to hear it.”

You hummed and closed your eyes again.

Truly, you probably wouldn’t actually be able to fall asleep like this. Kid had a point. It was uncomfortable and the cold steel of the table shoving into your ribs was horribly annoying. You adjusted yourself twice, trying to find a spot where it wasn’t impossible before you gave up and just stood.

Kid looked toward you immediately as though you might leave. You walked over to where he was sitting instead, squeezed between him and the table and straddled his lap, pressing your face tight against his chest.

So much better than the table.

“Hey!”

“Quieter please,” you mumbled against him. “I’ve had a headache for the past two days.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped but his voice was much softer now; a deeper rumble that you felt in your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting on me? I’m working.”

You shrugged in answer. “Comfortable.”

He smelled just as much like oil as the rest of his workshop did, sharp and metallic under the warmth of him. His chest was solid beneath your cheek, his breathing uneven with irritation, and still you buried your face deeper into his shoulder. You liked this top on him because it exposed so much of him, though given how miserable you were feeling, you wouldn’t have minded having his coat to wrap yourself in too.

“Why are you so tired?” he muttered. “Did you bump into trouble?”

“No,” you said. “You were right about putting the roger onto my boat. Anybody who saw it pissed off quickly.”

“They know our reputation.”

“Mm.”

He reached around you to grab something and you tilted your head to the disassembled equipment on the table. “Making something new?” you asked.

“Nah. It’s one of Killer’s punishers. He said the blade was loose yesterday so I’m taking it apart fully to make sure it’s still working.”

“Would suck if the blade came off while fighting,” you said, your voice slipping as you stumbled closer to sleep. “Just woosh, no more heads.”

Kid scoffed. “You must be fucking tired. You’re slurring all your words together.”

“I barely slept on the way back… it took so long.”

He shoved the table a little bit away and you settled properly on his lap, wrapped around him even as his chair creaked concerningly. “Don’t move around.”

“No promises.”

Sleep grabbed you embarrassingly fast once he started working again but when you woke up, it was to a rapidly darkening workshop. Not one of the lanterns was on and the dusky light of sunset was pushing through the window. Kid’s arm was heavy around your back, snores rumbling through his chest. You blinked blearily and lifted your head, still feeling the ache in your muscles.

You must have been really tired. It felt like you hadn’t moved in… however many hours had passed. Hadn’t you arrived in the morning?

You sat up a bit and Kid grumbled. His goggles were half on still and you pulled them off, snuggling closer to press a kiss to his cheek. And then to the corner of his mouth. Then to his jaw. Each time, he made a progressively more annoyed noise until you began to litter kisses over him.

He let you get away with it for longer than he would have admitted, his breathing still slow beneath you before irritation finally caught up with him. His hand came up to wrap around your mouth.

“Stop it,” he grumbled.

You kissed his palm playfully. “Guess you were tired too.”

“No, I just had a pain sitting on top of me so I couldn’t do anything else.”

“You couldn’t just sit up and move me?” you asked.

He didn’t respond. You laughed and slipped off his lap, feeling the stinging sensation of your muscles waking up again.

“Come on,” you said, tugging at his arm slightly. “I want to clean up and then sleep in a bed.”

“You’re fucking demanding, you know that?”

“I do. Want to shower with me?”

He spluttered at the sudden offer. At least he was awake properly now and you couldn’t help but laugh at the red tinging his face, something that immediately got you barked at to ‘stop’.

Kid didn’t take you up on it though. No sooner had you stepped into his quarters and he collapsed onto the bed, half crushing you against the mattress until you slipped into sleep with him.

Seemed you hadn’t been the only one not sleeping while you were away.

Still, you were home now and with him pressed tightly against you, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.