#hamos

“All right, out with it, Cap.”

Holden starts, almost dropping his own bulb to the floor. “Uh, what?” Amos can see the color rising under Holden’s pale skin. 

“You keep staring at me. But you don’t look like you want to fuck again. So what is it?” He says all of it in an even tone. Calming. What he thinks is calming. It’s easier to deal with Holden when he’s less… aggressive.

“I—” Holden pauses, looking over to the screen on the bulkhead. He hums. Amos waits. He knows Holden will tell him. The captain always takes too much time to gather his thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

Amos raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you always?”

Holden rolls his eyes with a huff. “Yeah, ha-ha, okay. I just mean… It’s something I don’t want to spring on you. Feel like you’ll say no if I do.”

That gives Amos pause. Holden used to ask for too much, when they first started fucking. Things Amos wasn’t the kind to give. Amos breathes out his nose. Not quite a sigh. “What is it, Holden?”

“Um…” Holden takes a breath, moves to sit on the edge of the bunk before trying again. “Can you—… Will you… Can I…?” He screws his face up. Amos binks, and still waits. Holden sighs and swallows before finally meeting his eyes. “Could you stay? Tonight?”

Amos grunts. His eyes widen and his heart stutters in a very familiar way. He looks at the door, closer to his seat than Holden’s bunk. Would he have to explain? Or could he just leave? Leave and stay in his cabin until the next day cycle when Holden will have moved on. Amos’ eyes flick back to Holden. His eyes are still locked on him, but his shoulders slump, the nervous hope and determination in his expression faded to resignation. Holden already knows his answer. Amos’ heart rate slows, a strange new ache spreading through his chest.

Holden… Amos didn’t always get why Holden wanted this. Why Holden would be with someone who didn’t reciprocate his affection or give him what he really wanted. It had started off as just occasional fun. A way to pass the time between docks and to make getting off a little more interesting. But Holden isn’t built for flings. He’d always come off as sentimental. There are plenty of people in the system who would gladly do anything Holden asked to get in bed with him, and stay there. He’d seen them himself in bars and docks. They’re always within arm’s reach of the boyishly handsome Earther. 

But he doesn’t. He stays with Amos. He gave up everything that he once asked for. Little touches. Casual kisses. Long nights out. Even staying in bed when they’d finish for the night. He’d given up on asking. Amos could always see he wanted to. But he didn’t. No matter how important it was to him and his idea of their… arrangement… he didn’t. And he certainly doesn’t go seeking intimacy elsewhere.

If Amos were being honest with Holden, he hasn’t been either. Not since Holden had started making repeat appearances in his cabin.

Amos isn’t the touchy-feely type. Still, he knows it’s not exactly right to expect Holden to give up everything he wants to keep Amos comfortable and not give him a little back. If this has got to continue, if they’re going to insist on finding each other in their night shifts… He shouldn’t expect Holden to be the only one going out of his way to make his partner comfortable. 

“Fuck it,” Amos sighs, rubbing his chest and finishing his water in one gulp. Holden looks up from his own bulb. His sad brown eyes fix on Amos, but his brows draw together when Amos stands, steps closer to him. Amos isn’t going to lie: having Holden gaze up at him from the bunk gives him a rush. Stokes a heat in his belly that almost makes him want to pin Holden to the mattress or get him to suck his dick and make him forget what he’s asked for. But it would only be a temporary fix. It still wouldn’t make things right.

“Amos, what are you—”

So instead he cups the back of Holden’s head and leans down to press his lips to Holden’s. The captain makes a surprised sound, but melts into his touch. A hand fists in the leg of his jumpsuit. The heat stirs again. Amos pulls away to a soft whine from Holden. He takes the bulb from his hand and sets it on the floor.

“All right, Cap. Move over.”

Holden blinks up at him. “What? What are you—”

Amos kisses him again. He fixes him with a stare when he pulls away. “You talk too much. Move over before I change my mind.”

It takes another moment of thought, but Holden finally nods and pushes to the back of the bunk. He looks to Amos as he lies down, who gives him a twirl gesture to roll over to face the back bulkhead. He does—with a huff—and Amos pushes his jumpsuit off again. There aren’t many ways Amos could see this going down that would make him comfortable. Not yet. But having Holden’s back against his front would at least take some of the intimacy away from it.

No eye contact at least.

He slides in behind Holden, taking up what space isn’t taken by the captain’s bulk. He’d managed to squeeze up close to the back bulkhead to leave him room. How a man as large as Holden can seem small at all is a wonder. He taps the back of Holden’s head and he lifts it, letting Amos slip his arm under him. He can feel Holden’s breath on his hand.

Amos stares at the back of Holden’s head. Waits for his heart to calm. Even Holden seems to be holding his breath. His hair is a mess. Sweat still dries on the back of his neck and across his shoulders. He focuses on those details. Breathes. Lets himself relax. It comes far easier than he expects. Holden radiates warmth like a fucking heater and that alone makes Amos want to get closer. He drapes his other arm over Holden’s side, pulls him flush against him. 

It only takes Holden about ten seconds to ruin it.

“Uh… Amos?”

“Cap.”

“You, uh… you’re not wearing pants... are you?”

Amos grins. “Nope. Usually don’t.”

“Hm. Great.” 

“Hey, you wanted this, Cap,” Amos teases, grinding against Holden’s clothed ass. Holden’s breath hitches. “You said nothing about pants.”

“Jesus, Amos, I get it,” he bites out. “I get it, it’s fine.” 

“You still want me here? Bare ass and all?”

Holden sighs. Amos watches the back of his head, his hair stirring every time Amos breathes out. Amos doesn’t realize he’s given him a test until he answers.

“Yeah. Even if that’s the deal, I still want you here.”

Ain’t that just a summary of Holden? Of how he feels about their arrangement? Relationship. He’ll take whatever Amos will give him. On Amos’ terms. Of all the things Holden has said or done, that fact—that stone cold fact—is enough to keep Amos right where he is. Even if part of him calls to run far away. 

Hell… he wants to stay. 

“All right then,” Amos rumbles. 

Holden hums, taps the hand on his stomach. “Thanks for this, Amos. Really.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll see how we feel in the morning.”

He snorts, but doesn’t say anything else. Probably doesn’t have to. He doesn’t take Amos’ hand, doesn’t kiss his arm or any shit like that. Doesn’t try to push even further. This is enough. He just relaxes back into Amos, spreading his warmth between them. Holden’s breathing slows under his arm and against his chest. He catches himself almost matching his breath. When Amos is sure Holden is asleep, he lets out a long, slow breath. He gives in. And presses his forehead to the back of Holden’s head. 

Holden’s hair tickles Amos’s nose. He can smell the shampoo they all use in those loose curls. Holden becomes almost too hot, too close. But Amos doesn’t move. It’s not so bad. Holden isn’t a threat. Holden didn’t push him. He doesn’t have to wait until morning to make the call. This is fine. Shit. It’s good. Not that he’ll tell Holden that. He’ll just do it. Maybe stay a few night cycles. For this warmth, this calm. Hell, if all else fails, he’ll have a hell of a time waking Holden up in the morning by sliding his hand just a little lower. 

That’s part of the deal, after all.