#benmick

Those words didn’t sit easily in his mind but there was no denying the truth of them now they were there. With changing his face, his name, his life so often, Peter always tried to know himself completely, mostly out of fear that he’d eventually lose what was really Peter Nureyev if he didn’t. And he knew that he was in love with Juno Steel.

As inconvenient as that was.

He would choose Brahma. Of course he would. He’d worked far too hard, suffered and lost far too much to let something like this derail him. What was this compared to what his father had died for, what Mag had been sacrificing?

What has his own silly heart compared to all that?

With that decided, Peter tapped out his report, going into a kind of autopilot as he gripped the guilty feeling with both hands and made himself feel it’s low, shameful burn, like grabbing barbed wire. Mission proceeding. Target will be accessible beginning next week. Holding steady until then. Apologies for the delay.

As if to hammer home how foolish he’d been, Mag’s reply came almost instantly, barely a minute after his own had disappeared from the screen to be scrambled, broken, reassembled hundreds of times over in the expanse of space so it couldn’t be traced.

Don’t scare me like that again. Look after yourself.

Peter winced and stuffed the comms back into his bag, turning onto his side to face the wall. Two more days. Then he could do his job, go back to Brahma with his broken heart in his chest and remember who he was.

And hopefully he would have at least learned something.

Peter tried to keep himself at a distance over the next two days which smacked of far too little far too late but at least he could tell his guilty heart that he was doing something. He didn’t participate in conversation as much as he had, he professed to having a lot of homework when they asked him to hang out with them after school, he told himself that the disappointment he saw hidden behind their expressions didn’t bother him.

But it was the change in Juno that made it almost too difficult to bear. Peter had never really felt anything like this before, let alone having it reciprocated so he didn’t know how much he was just flattering himself or letting his brain run away with its own fantasies. But there did seem to be something different in how Juno was when Peter was around.

He was still grumpy and surly, apparently that was his natural state of being, but he certainly wasn’t outwardly hostile since Peter had broken a nose for him. They were certainly friends now; he was part of The Oldtown Gang, as Mick seemed determined to dub them despite everyone in said gang refusing to go along with him. Juno sat next to him when they spent lunchtimes at their camp, he’d ask him if he needed any help in the classes that were supposed to be new to Ransom. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t really need to be sitting quite so close to Peter as they’d sit in their circle and trade jokes and insults back and forth. Sometimes Peter felt like Juno’s eyes were on him, like he was studying his face for something, but when Peter would look, Juno would just be staring at his class notes. Some smiles that Peter caught felt like maybe they’d been meant just for him.

But Peter told himself he was being a fool. Well, even more of a fool than he already was being by falling for Juno in the first place. But to imagine that he could actually be feeling anything similar was just a form of self torture. Even if there was a chance anything more than one sided could grow between them, wouldn’t he rather not know? It was already going to hurt enough as it was.

So Peter retreated inside himself a little, going through the motions of a normal day, barely paying attention as they lazed around in their makeshift hammocks and Ben talked excitedly about the overnight field trip they were apparently going on to Olympus City. At least until he felt everyone else’s eyes on him.

“Sorry, what?” he blinked, blushing a little under the look Ben was giving him, something knowing in it putting him on guard.

“I said it’s just going to be you and Juno over the weekend,” Benten hummed, swinging his legs, outwardly innocent but the teasing note was still in his voice, “You’ll have to promise to keep my brother out of trouble.”

“You’re not going?” Peter looked to Juno, who was giving his twin a warning look.

“Didn’t feel like spending more time than I had to with the assholes we call classmates,” he answered shortly, in the kind of way that suggested there had been another reason that he certainly wasn’t about to give up.

Peter didn’t need too much of his observation skills, after so long being friends with the Steel twins and knowing enough about the average situation of Hyperion High students, to guess that there had only been enough in their family’s funds to send one of them on the trip and that Juno had feigned disinterest so Benten could have it. He wondered how many times it had come down to that, how much Juno pretended not to care so his brother could afford to.

“Maybe you two could go to the movies or something,” Sasha said placidly, earning herself a scandalised ‘whose side are you on?’ glare from Juno, “Peter’s hardly seen any of Hyperion. And what he has seen isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of the place.”

“If you can find me something that is, I’d love to hear it,” Juno scowled.

“Aw but sneaking into the movies is so fun! And Peter would be so good at it, they’d never catch him,” Mick agreed, prompting Ben to rest his head against his shoulder and regard Juno with a poorly concealed smugness.

“I’ve never been to the movies…” Peter said quietly, before mentally kicking himself. Do you want to be crying your way back to Brahma on Monday night?

Juno’s scowl deepened and his cheeks flushed, voice rising more than it needed to, “Look, I have plans with someone, alright? I’m busy. So maybe stop sticking your noses in for five seconds?”

There was an awkward silence as he sank back in his seat. Mick and Sasha sent quick pitying looks in Peter's direction, who pretended he didn’t see them as he stared at his hands like all of this wasn’t happening around him. He didn’t care. Why should he care? Benzaiten shrugged like that was the end of it but he was giving Juno a look that was impossible to read.

And Juno just looked everywhere but at Peter.

“Anyone catch the game last night?” Mick put in after a few agonising moments, his affable obliviousness always good for bulling past awkward situations, “‘Cos I didn’t, I realised ten minutes before the end that I was watching football rather than baseball, I was hoping one of you guys got the score…”

“Mick, it’s a completely different shape of ball, how the hell did you manage that…”

“Leave him alone, it’s hard to tell from a distance, right babe?”

First rule of thieving, Peter thought miserably, sinking deeper into himself while his friends continued on around him, bad decisions will always come back and bite you in the ass. So when one does, know you deserve it.

Peter sat in the middle of the bare, empty apartment and organised his roll of lock picking tools. Doing that always calmed him down and it had been a dull, frustrating Saturday otherwise. Just hours and hours of going through the same plans and schematics he’d memorised months ago, showing his path from the fence to one of the first story windows to the principal’s office to the server room to an entirely different window. In and out inside of fifteen minutes, enter with a flash drive full of malware, leave with it full of proof that New Kinshasa and a number of other corrupt outer world governments were laundering money through Martian construction contracts just like the one that had built this school. He’d done far more complex heists than this but with such lower stakes.

And with his back up slightly closer than across the galaxy.

First rule of thieving, there is no room for nervousness, if you can find some room then you should fill it with more planning.

With the outside world grey, cold and full of thin SimRain, there was little else to do. His takeout dinner arriving had been the only highlight in his day and now an equally dull night had settled in.

So he took out the thin silver lockpicks from their sewn in pockets and cleaned them fastidiously, one by one, making sure each type was in it’s exact place. They were a little bit of a novelty, in this age of bioprinting and retina scanners, but they were still called for on occasion and Mag had drilled it into him that no self respecting thief would be caught without the classics on hand. And besides, their comfortable, familiar weight strapped to his chest was reassuring. Like he could never fail as long as he had them close, precisely placed and polished until they shone.

The knock at the door was so unexpected, so sudden, that he slopped his cup of tea on the carpet, a few dark brown stains soaking in. Good thing he wouldn’t be trying to collect any security deposit.

He slid the plasma knife out of its sheath, pressing himself against the door with a cold, almost serene focus. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, his food had arrived hours ago. Which meant either the person outside his apartment right now was an innocent, mistaken bystander and would go after a few minutes of silence.

Or they weren’t. And more than tea would be getting spilled.

The knock came again and Peter tensed, his grip on the knife tightening. Had he made a mistake? Had one of his reports been traced despite their precautions? Had they found a flaw in his fake records? Either way, his breathing stayed shallow and steady as the seconds ticked by.

Another knock. And then a voice, rough and tired and very familiar.

“Ransom? You in there? Damn it, I was sure this was the right number…”

The knife disappeared quickly, “Juno?”

“Oh! Hi...um, hi Ransom...sorry, Ben gave me your address. Can I come in?”

Peter looked around his apartment, wincing. Explaining its state was going to be uncomfortable, it couldn’t look more like the hideout of a sleeper agent than if he’d hung a sign to that effect. But Juno sounded so lost…

He did what he could in the space of two seconds, emptying out his neatly packed suitcase and spreading the clothes around like he imagined most teenage boys did, hiding the papers under a half heartedly done homework sheet. The pile of unwashed mugs in the sink and takeout containers he hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet helped.

“Yeah,” he called then, only just remembering to kick his tool roll out of sight, “Come in.”

Juno had a face to match his tone of voice. There were dark shadows under his eyes that had nothing to do with any eyeshadow, in fact he wasn’t wearing a smudge of makeup on him for the first time Peter had known. He wasn’t dressed in his usual way either, in an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants with a loud cartoon pattern, the same little robot figure from the first shirt he’d seen him in. He just looked exhausted, wrung out and worn down, his lips turned down at the ends. He looked like someone who needed some comfort.

“Is...is everything okay?” Peter tried not to make Juno’s distress sound as obvious as it was.

It hadn’t been enough, Juno’s eyes were dark with shame as he stared down at his own sneakered feet and Peter’s slippered ones, “Look, I’m sorry I’m showing up like this. It’s not okay, especially since I...um...anyway, I’m sorry.”

Peter swallowed, “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“I had a big fight with Ma,” Juno admitted, a tremor running through his voice, “She...she kicked me out. And with everyone out of town, I don’t have anywhere else to go. You’ve got every right to tell me to fuck off but...can I stay here?”

Juno and Benten had never said much about their mother. All Peter had been able to surmise, from his observations, was that she was their only parent and there was a huge weight around both twin’s necks because of her. He hadn’t pressed on the nature of it, he had no right to, and it wasn’t going to be any different than it was for so many kids in Oldtown. And more than a fair few on Brahma.

“Of course, Juno,” Peter said gently, stepping to one side, “Of course, stay as long as you need to.”

Juno mumbled a thanks as he stepped past him. If he found the lack of couch, stream screen, any kitchen appliances aside from a kettle or sign that this place was lived in at all strange, then clearly he felt he owed Peter enough not to say anything.

“Want some tea?” Peter asked, relocking the door, “I already ate but we could go get you something…”

“No, it’s okay,” Juno said quickly, “I’m asking enough of you as it is.”

Peter sat on his cot and sighed, “Juno, you’re my friend. I’m not going to hold every nicety over your head and present you with a receipt when you leave. I want to help you so just...let me?”

After a pause, Juno chuckled, the sound rough and raw in his throat but it was real. He slumped down on the floor next to the cot, leaning back against it so his head rested close to Peter’s knee, and sighed heavily.

“You know, there’s three people on the whole planet who don’t take my bullshit. My ma, my brother and you. But you’re the only person I like hearing it from.”

Peter smiled, though the pace of his heartbeat had increased a little. Juno was so close he could smell the shampoo in his curls from the shower he must have been having that evening.

“Benzaiten did ask me to keep you out of trouble. Checking your bullshit falls under that, I think.”

Something in Juno’s expression grew thin and the exhaustion showed through from underneath. There was enough of a pause that Peter wasn’t sure he was going to speak but then he did.

“It’s never as bad when Ben’s there. Me and her, I mean. It’s like he’s a buffer, stops things getting so nasty. He shouldn’t have to do it, I hate that he’s had to, but… it’s damn effective. With him gone, things just...they got out of hand so fast.”

Peter nodded slowly. He and Mag had their fair share of blow out arguments too, not that it had ever escalated to him being kicked out. Mag would never do that, he knew what having no roof over his head would mean to his protege, but he certainly knew what it was like to have said things you didn’t know could come from your mouth in the heat of the moment.

“Has she done this before? Put you out?”

“Yeah...sometimes with a reason. Sometimes not.”

“There’s never a good reason to do that,” Peter’s voice was more leaden than he’d intended but it was the voice of someone who’d been a child, promised protection by the world, but left out in the cold, “She’s an adult and you aren’t.”

Juno looked at him, clearly curious but he let it go after a moment, picking at his own wound instead, “If I’m not back in her good books by Monday, it’ll be a whole thing with Ben, he’ll feel bad about going…”

“You do this a lot for him, don’t you?” Peter asked softly, “Protect him. Pretend to not care about things so he can afford to.”

Juno shrugged heavily, gnawing on one fingernail covered in chipped polish, “What else am I good for?”

There was so much Peter could have said in that moment, answers that came rushing up to the tip of his tongue, some that surprised even him. But they’d start a conversation he really didn’t want to have, with Juno and with himself. So instead he just murmured, “Lots of things.”

Juno looked at him, something genuinely fearful in his eyes, like he knew exactly what Peter was holding back.

“Um...I think I will have some tea. If it’s still alright with you. Damn cold outside.”

“Of course!” Peter scrambled up and practically fled to the kitchen. It was hard to say which boy was the more relieved.

Peter could cope without a lot of amenities when he went out on jobs. First rule of thieving, never care about more than what you can carry in your pockets. But the first thing he’d bought when he’d gone on one of his short, necessity driven runs to the grocery store (a different one every time of course and dodging the cameras so he couldn’t be traced) was a box of good, high quality tea. He didn’t like coffee much, hated the tremble it put in his hands that could cost him his life in some circumstances, but he’d gotten a taste for tea very early on in his time with Mag. In fact, it had been the first thing his mentor had done, when he’d brought the scrawny, skittish, terrified young boy back to his home. He’d put a steaming, sugar laced mug in his hands that it had made it so much easier to believe him when he’d said everything was going to be alright.

He couldn’t give Juno much to ease his pain right now but there was some pride to be found in gladly giving him one of his few little parcels of sweet smelling, caffeine laced comfort. That much he could do.

Juno thanked him, hugging the mug close to his chest and pulling his knees in. Nureyev sat back on the cot, folding his legs underneath him and pulling the blanket over his knees. It was getting cold, he’d been right about that.

After a few moments and a few sips, Juno sighed and said without much surprise, “You don’t have a dad, do you, Ransom?”

Immediately, his shoulders tensed, well aware that he had absolutely no evidence to refute that accusation. And absolutely no back up explanation to speak of.

“Well…” he began awkwardly, very unused to having no way out of a situation.

“It’s okay,” Juno chuckled dryly, taking another drink, “I pretty much figured you were taking care of yourself over here.”

Peter swallowed hard, hand itching around the knuckles. The plasma knife he’d hurriedly shoved back in the holster suddenly felt very heavy, not that he was even going to consider that. He was also not going to think about what Mag would do, what he would urge Peter to do, what rules he would use to make Juno’s life seem a small price to pay for the mission. The same rules he’d saved himself with.

“Honestly, it’s impressive.”

Peter froze, “I...what?”

Juno’s cheeks seemed to colour a little and he could have been smiling into his cup as he sipped, “You’re here trying to make something of yourself. Trying to get an education and switch up the shitty hand you got dealt. Granted, you picked a terrible place to do it but...you’re trying. And that’s more than I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

“Trying…” Peter tried to keep his voice steady, “Yes. I’ve often thought that’s all a person can do.”

Juno nodded slowly, leaning back. His head was now leaning against Peter’s knee, enough that he could feel the damp of his hair, the comforting weight of him. He seemed so relaxed, so casual about it all, but Peter felt as if electrical shocks were sparking between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to someone, had someone touch him in such a friendly way, such simple, easy contact. Only since he’d come to Mars. Only since he’d met Juno.

For some reason, he felt absurdly guilty. He should be relieved, his disguise had survived even under Juno’s scrutiny who, Peter was beginning to think, was one of the most annoyingly observant people he’d ever met. But in his stomach was just a yawning hollow, a sad kind of emptiness. Like he’d have actually been relieved if Juno had looked him straight in the eye and seen who he really was.

Like he was tired of lying to him.

“Hey,” Juno grunted, his voice sounding further away than it had, “There’s another party on Monday night when everyone’s back. You’re coming, right?”

Peter’s throat tightened. On Monday night, he’d be going back to Brahma, back under the glare of the lasers, back in the fight. Ransom would be gone, a few lines of information that winked out of existence as if they had never been, more than dead. That was the plan.

“Yeah,” he nodded, hand moving over to lightly stroke through Juno’s curls. He’d seen Ben do that on a few occasions and it seemed to comfort him, “That sounds good.”

Juno seemed to tense a little under the touch though only for an instant, as if he hadn’t expected it. But then it was gone and he was leaning into Peter’s hand gratefully, like it was everything he’d needed in that moment. His hair was so soft, winding through his fingers in tight curls that opened for him, parted like waves. The world shrank down to just the points where Peter’s skin met Juno’s, like that simple contact was all that held the universe in one piece. He didn’t feel the weight of a planet’s survival on his shoulders, he didn’t feel like a revolutionary before he’d even had the chance to feel like a person, he didn’t feel the questions he couldn’t ask like bitter metal resting on his tongue.

In that moment, this was all he had to do. He had to be there for someone else, just one other scared, sad kid like him.

“Thanks for letting me in, Ransom,” Juno murmured softly, his voice a contented rumble in his chest.

“I’d rather you call me Peter,” he replied, after a pause where he begged himself not to.

“Hm? Oh, sure. No problem, Peter.”

It wasn’t the name he wanted to hear from Juno’s lips but it was close enough. It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“You should sleep now,” he murmured, before his throat closed too tight to mask, “It’s late and you’ve had a long night.”

“Oh I can just stay down here,” Juno said quickly, opening one golden brown eye. Clearly he was seeing that there weren’t many other options. No couch, no chair, not even so much as a rug.

Just Peter’s cot, the one he was currently sat on. Well, if I’m destroying myself, I may as well do a thorough job.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he rolled his eyes like it was no big deal, holding out a hand to him, “Climb up.”

Juno blinked then shrugged, allowing himself to be tugged onto the hellishly uncomfortable little camping bed. It took a lot of awkward maneuvering to get both of them settled, there was barely enough room for one person, let alone two. By the time it was all done, they were nose to nose, limbs in a tangle.

Juno was the first to break, snorting, “God, I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve skipped about seven friendship levels…”

“Well, I did break someone’s nose for you,” Peter grunted, trying to shift so Juno’s knee was no longer pressing against his stomach, “Surely that grants me some higher access. Just pretend I’m one of the people you’re courting…”

Juno stared at him for a moment before breaking into helpless barks of laughter that threatened to upend their precarious little arrangement.

“What?” Peter demanded, flushing pink.

“Sorry, sorry, it's just...god, courting. I don’t think I’ve ever courted anyone in my damn life. Probably no one has since, like,  the 1800s or whatever…” Juno cackled.

“I’ve changed my mind. You can go back on the floor.”

“Nuh uh!” Juno suddenly wrapped both his arms around Peter’s middle, holding them fast, “No take backs now!”

Peter was so glad he had something to blame the colour of his cheeks on, especially when Juno managed to get a hold of himself and chuckled, “God, you’re so cute…”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” he muttered quickly, trying to sound annoyed.

Juno did, apparently thinking it more comfortable to just stay with his arms around Peter, resting his head on his stomach. They were still for a few moments as their breath slowed and evened out, as the exhaustion clearly caught up with Juno as he realised he truly did have somewhere he could rest and know he was safe.

With whatever consciousness he had left, he mumbled, “I mean it, Peter. I really needed a friend tonight and you came through. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Peter whispered back but Juno was asleep before he was halfway through, his body getting heavier as his muscles relaxed and he gave himself over.

All we can do is try.

It wasn’t a rule but in that moment, as he lay in the darkness and listened to Juno Steel snore softly, it made more sense to Peter than anything he’d ever been told.

Before he could think, before he could realise what he was doing, he dug his comms out of his pocket and tapped out a message to the only number he’d ever used on this thing.

Plans have to be delayed. Security concerns. Tuesday instead. Apologies.

He sent it quickly, watching the text disappear, leaving him with a dark reflection of his own face on the empty screen. What have you done?

Before any reply could come through, he tossed the comms to the floor, rolling over as much as he could, enough to bury his face in Juno’s hair. He smelled of damp and clean shampoo, coconut and clean towels and night air. A honest, planetside scent.

He knew the guilt was coming, building up in his chest, ready to burn him from the inside out. But there was a whole night in between then, to cling to Juno and imagine a future he could never have, a morning where he would open his eyes and the first thing he’d see would be Juno Steel and remember that he’d done a good thing. He’d been there for someone when they’d needed him.