Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jimmy has deep internalized homophobia from growing up, his dad used to beat him, his mom died at his birth, he has never felt love or affection or care or even respect in his whole life.

When it came to him being old enough to want a relationship at 14 maybe, he spoke to a friend in school that said his parents said he could love whoever he wants, Jimmy thought that was a great idea and told his dad when he went home that he could grow up to love whoever he wants.

That was the first time he got beat up.

He never mentioned even the prospect of a relationship again. Not even with a woman. He knew he didn’t like them but there’s no point in volunteering that information is there? He did it once, look what happened. That was until he met Curly in college.

Grant Curly. A Scottish exchange student that somehow landed in the dump of a town that Jimmy lived in. He was a rich kid, honor kid. Grades were everything kind of kid.

That's what got Jimmy to here. Now having been Curly’s best friend for almost a decade. They were aboard the Tulpar, a ship from Curly’s work company, Pony Express. They were shipping Cargo to somewhere and the journey would take over a year. Curly offered Jimmy the Co-Pilot position as he was the Captain.

Now, they have been traveling 147 days and in the Cockpit the day was no different than usual. Apart from the fact that Jimmy wanted to try and confess his feelings to Curly at some point. But he was no faggot. Curly was sitting legs crossed in his captain seat reading. Jimmy always loved when Curly sat like that, he looked so elegant, so handsome, so beautiful—right what??

No. Jimmy is not a faggot. He cannot think of Curly as handsome or beautiful or even elegant really.

Curly unaware of Jimmy’s internal struggles sat reading peacefully. In front of him was a drink - some sort of tea, his long slender legs were crisscrossed him. Meanwhile, Jimmy was pacing silently behind the chairs of the cockpit. He had an exasperated expression on his face and he continued to repeatedly ruffle his hair, trying to make sense of his thoughts. After several minutes of this, Curly finally looked over his shoulder from his book and spoke. "You know, if you keep pacing like that, you're going to wear a hole through the floor."

"Shut up, Curly,” Jimmy spat back. He kept pacing back and forth, his boots thudding on the floor. Curly sighed and marked the page in his book with a bookmark. He took a sip of his tea before responding. “You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes. Can you at least try to relax?”

"Relax? Relax? How can I relax when my brain won’t stop running a thousand miles a minute?” Jimmy stopped pacing for a moment to rub at his temples, as if to try to ease the headache forming there. Curly couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the sight of his friend in distress. “Well, why is your brain running at a million miles per minute? What’s wrong? Talk to me, don’t take it out on the floor.”

Jimmy groaned and finally stopped pacing. He ran a hand through his hair again, looking flustered and frustrated. "It's nothing," he snapped. "Just drop it, Curly."Curly raised an eyebrow at his friend's tone. He knew that tone. Jimmy was hiding something. Curly set his tea down on the side mini table and stood up. He stepped towards Jimmy, placing a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Jim, I can tell something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know that."

Jimmy shrugged off Curly's hand, still looking irritated. "I said it's nothing. I don't need to talk about it." Curly let out a sigh. He knew Jimmy could be stubborn, but he also knew that sometimes people just needed to talk about things. "Come on, Jimmy. You've been on edge for days now. What is going on?" Jimmy's expression softened slightly, but he still wouldn't look at Curly. "I don't want to talk about it, Curly," he muttered. "It's... personal."

"Personal?" Curly asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with your health, or—“

“It’s none of your business,” Jimmy snapped, his irritation flaring up again. Jimmy didn’t have any family so the problems in his life Curly could be aware of was about his health, more so because he’s a recovered alcoholic and did have some mental issues relating to anger. Curly took a step back, taken aback by the sudden sharpness in Jimmy's voice. "I’m just trying to help, Jimmy. I care about you," he said softly. "I didn't ask for your help," Jimmy retorted. He crossed his arms and turned his gaze away from Curly, avoiding eye contact.

Curly slightly chuckled. “I’m your best friend, you don’t need to ask for my help. I’m here for you always, any day. I’m your captain too, so it’s my job you’re safe and you’re ok.” Jimmy rolled his eyes at Curly's comment. He hated it when Curly pulled the “I’m the captain” card. But he couldn’t ignore the genuine concern in Curly’s voice either. But Jimmy still felt the need to push back. To bottle everything up. To not show emotion.

“I don't need you to take care of me,” he muttered sullenly. Curly couldn't help but shake his head at Jimmy's stubborn insistence on handling everything on his own. It was one of the things he both loved and was frustrated by. “It's not about taking care of you, it's about being there for you,” Curly replied “That’s what friends do, Jimmy.” Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't want to talk about it, Curly. Just drop it, okay?"

Curly studied his friend for a moment, sensing the turmoil beneath his surface. He knew Jimmy better than anyone else, knew all his moods and tells, knew when he was hiding something. “Jimmy, you know you’re not a burden,” he said gently. “I’m here to listen, whatever it is. I won’t judge you.”

"I don't want your sympathy," Jimmy muttered. But his defiant tone was already starting to falter, and he knew it. Curly's patience and understanding were slowly wearing down his defenses. Curly could see the cracks in Jimmy's facade starting to show. But he knew better than to push too hard. He needed to approach this carefully. "It's not sympathy, Jimmy. It's concern," he replied. "You're my best friend. Of course, I'm going to worry about you."

Jimmy was silent for a moment, avoiding Curly’s gaze. He knew he couldn’t keep denying everything forever. But the thought of telling Curly the truth, of confessing his feelings to his best friend and Captain, was terrifying. "I just ..." Jimmy started, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I just wish things were different, you know?"

Curly tilted his head slightly, his expression softening even more. He could sense that they were finally getting somewhere. "What things?" he asked softly. Jimmy let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he finally looked up at Curly. His eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and desperation, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Everything," he muttered. "I wish everything was different." He looked away again, not able to maintain eye contact for much longer. Curly's heart ached for his friend. He could see the turmoil and despair etched on Jimmy's face. But he also knew that they couldn't just leave it at that. They needed to address what was really going on.

"Jimmy, you need to be more specific. What do you mean by everything?" Curly asked gently. Jimmy let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair again. He hated this. He hated feeling vulnerable, hated talking about his feelings. But he knew Curly would never give up until he got an answer. "Everything," Jimmy repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish... I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I was normal." Curly furrowed his brow, confused by Jimmy's words. "What do you mean, you wish you were normal? You are normal, Jimmy."

Jimmy let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "No, I'm not," he muttered. "I'm not normal. I'm not like everyone else. I'm a mess. I'm a screwup. I’m a recovered alcoholic with still fucked up brain and I only have this job because of you, I’m not special or anything.” Curly reached out, placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder once more. He could feel the tension and self-hatred pouring off his friend in waves.

"Jimmy, that's not true. You're far from a mess or a screwup. You're one of the strongest and most capable people I know. Yes, you’re a recovered alcoholic but you’re recovered. You did it, you stopped drinking by yourself. I couldn’t have done that for you. You got your life on track, you’ve got a job and I’m sure we’ll find you another apartment when we get home. It’s all gonna be okay.” Curly smiled lightly, encouragingly. He wanted Jimmy to believe that so much.

Jimmy shook his head again, trying to shrug off Curly's touch. "You don't understand, Curly," he muttered. "I see the way people look at me. I see the way they treat me. I'm a joke. A screwup. A disappointment. My own father knew it. My mother….didn’t even live to see it. Maybe a good thing.” Curly felt a pang in his heart as Jimmy spoke about his parents. He knew how much Jimmy had struggled with his father’s disapproval and his mother's passing. It still had an impact on him, even now. "Jimmy, what your father thinks of you doesn’t define you," Curly said softly. "And your mother, well... I think she'd be proud of the man you've become."

Jimmy let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head again. "Proud? Yeah, right. She'd look at me and spit on my face if she could see me now." Curly took a step closer, his expression serious. "Don't say that, Jimmy. Don't even speak of that," he said firmly. "Your mother would never, ever be ashamed of you. She loved you, more than anything even if you never knew it. And nothing you do or say would change that."

Jimmy looked up at Curly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He wanted to believe Curly's words, but it was hard when he'd spent a lifetime believing he was a worthless, undeserving screw up. "How do you know that? You never even met my mother," he muttered. “Neither did you but you know she loved you. She still loves you. She’s looking down and smiling proud at her resilient, strong, incredible son.”

Jimmy's lip trembled at Curly's words. He wanted to believe him so badly. He wanted to believe that his mother was looking down at him and proud of who he was. But it was hard to shake off a lifetime of thinking otherwise. "You can’t…you can't know that," he muttered, his voice cracking. "How could you possibly know that?" Curly reached out again, gripping Jimmy's shoulder tightly. "Because I do know, Jimmy," he said firmly. "Because that's what mothers do. They love unconditionally. Even when we don't think we deserve it, they love us. Your mother loved you before she could even hold you, and she still loves you now."

Jimmy sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. He was on the verge of breaking down, and he hated himself for it. "Why though?" he muttered. "Why did she love me? I was a mistake. I should never have been born. She wouldn’t have died if I wasn’t.” Curly's heart ached for his friend. He knew that Jimmy had been haunted by the thought of being a mistake for most of his life. But he knew that it wasn't true.

"You were not a mistake, Jimmy. Not at all," Curly said firmly. "You were a miracle. Your mother loved you more than anything, and if she was here now, she’d tell you the same thing." Jimmy let out a sob, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. The floodgates had opened and tears streamed down his face unchecked. “I just feel so lost, Curly," he choked out, his voice shaking. "So alone. Like I don't belong anywhere.”

Curly shook his head. “You do belong somewhere.” Jimmy looked up at Curly again, searching his face for any hint of doubt or dishonesty. But all he saw was sincerity and understanding. "Where then?" he asked, his voice small and vulnerable. "Where do I belong?" Jimmy scoffed. “With me. Here. Where I go, you go and where you go, I go.”

Jimmy's eyes widened at Curly's words. He had never heard Curly speak like this before, with such conviction and tenderness. "With you?" he repeated, not quite believing what he was hearing. Curly nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, with me. Always. We're in this together, remember? No matter what." Jimmy felt his heart swell with a mix of emotions. He had wanted to hear those words for so long, but had never dared to hope. "But... but why?" he asked, still not fully believing that he deserved such loyalty and devotion.

"Because you're my best friend, Jimmy," Curly replied, his voice firm and full of conviction. "Because you're the most important person in the world to me. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Curly pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him close. He could feel the shuddering sobs racking Jimmy's body, and it broke his heart to see his friend in such pain. "It's alright, Jim," he murmured, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "Let it all out. I'm here for you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

Jimmy's breath caught in his throat at Curly's words. Was he... was he saying what he thought he was saying? He couldn't be, right? "Just... just a best friend?" he muttered, his voice cracking with emotion. Curly furrowed his brow, confused by Jimmy's repetition of the phrase.

"You know you mean more to me than that, Jimmy. You should know that. You're my... you're my world," he said gruffly, his own emotions starting to get the best of him. Jimmy's eyes widened as he heard Curly's words. He wasn't imagining it. It was really happening. "Your... your world?" he repeated slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

Curly nodded, his expression fierce and intensely genuine. "Yes, my world, Jimmy. You're everything to me. You're my other half. Like my soulmate.” Is there a way he could mean that platonically? Because there’s no way Curly has the same stupid feelings as him. Curly's words made Jimmy's heart skip a beat. Soulmate. It was almost too much to believe. Could Curly really mean that? Was there any chance that he felt the same way Jimmy did, not just as best friends but... something more?

But at the same time, Jimmy couldn't help but think it was too good to be true. Curly was straight, definitely. He had a long-standing girlfriend, he had never shown the slightest inclination towards men, he would never be interested in him. But then again, it was still hard to believe. Curly was his friend. His closest companion. They had been through so much together, and he didn't want to lose that just because he had developed feelings for him. But at the same time, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He had to know, one way or another.

"Curly... what do you really mean by that?" he asked quietly, his voice trembling. Curly seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if just realizing what he had said, but his gaze remained intent and unflinching. He took a deep breath. "I mean exactly what I said, Jimmy," he said softly. "You're my soulmate. The most important person in my life. Nothing else compares to you." Jimmy's heart leapt at Curly's words. He could feel his hope soaring, but he swallowed it back down, not wanting to let himself get his hopes up too much.

"But... you're straight," he muttered. "You have a girlfriend. You're into girls." Curly let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You think I'm just into girls just because I've dated girls in the past?" Jimmy looked up at him, surprise and confusion on his face. "Well... yeah," he said. "That's kind of what that meant, right?"

Curly shook his head. "No, that's not what that means at all," he said firmly. "Just because I've dated girls in the past doesn't mean I didn't feel any attraction to other people. And just because I have a girlfriend doesn't mean there hasn't been another person on my mind. It's not that black and white." Jimmy's heart skipped a beat as he processed Curly's words. Was he saying what he thought he was saying? Could it really be possible?

"Another person...?" he repeated, his voice shaking. Curly's expression softened, and he nodded. "Yes, a very special person," he said quietly. "Someone who's been on my mind for a long time... someone who’s my world.” Jimmy's breath caught in his throat as he heard Curly say that. He could barely believe what he was hearing. Could it really be true?

"You...you mean.....me?" he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. Curly nodded, his expression serious and sincere. "Yes, you, Jimmy. You're the one I think about all the time. You're the one who makes me feel alive. You're the one I want to be with, more than anything." Jimmy scoffed again and shook his head. “But you have a girlfriend!”

Curly chuckled softly, shaking his head. "She’s not my girlfriend….” Jimmy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She's…not?" he repeated, unsure if he had heard correctly. “No, she’s my housemate that I thought well she’s an easy say if someone asks me if I have a girlfriend, someone I’m not interested in. Sure, we did like each other and we tried a few things but we didn’t date or even sleep together.”

Jimmy's heart leapt at Curly's words. He couldn't believe it. All this time, he had assumed Curly was happily dating a girl, and it turned out she was just a friend? It seemed too good to be true. "So you're...you're single?" he asked, incredulous. Curly nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I'm single," he confirmed. "Single and completely, utterly head over heels for a certain someone."

“Who?” Jimmy asked though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. He needs the confirmation. Curly's hand moved to cup Jimmy's chin, tilting his face up towards him. His lips were only a few centimeters from Jimmy's, and he could feel the warm puffs of his breath on his skin. “How about I just show you?”

And with that, Curly closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jimmy's in a soft, tender kiss. It was a moment they had both been waiting for, a moment that had been building for years. Curly's hand slid into the back of his hair, pulling him closer-

Jimmy’s hand slapped him, pushing him away. He couldn’t do it. He could allow himself to have this. This moment of peace and love, he wasn’t raised a faggot therefore no matter his feelings he will be one. His internalized homophobia took over. He couldn’t do this. “What are you doing? I’m not a faggot. If you are, that’s your problem. But don’t touch me.”

Curly was stunned and just sat there with his jaw wide open. The shock on his face was more than Jimmy could stand. It was over, wasn’t it? Why did Jimmy have to ruin the friendship? “Curly, wait…” Jimmy said as Curly slammed the door hard when he left. “God Damn it.”

Jimmy sat there and looked straight ahead, in shock that he had just said that. He really wanted to be with Curly, and that was his one chance to get with him, and he ruined it. He was disgusted at himself.

Jimmy knew that Curly couldn't get far. Where would he go? He thought the Lounge. There was Curly sitting in the Lounge and staring at his lap with a distant look on his face. Jimmy could see he had clearly been crying. Why did he do it? Stupid, Stupid, Stupid...

He had to go over to him, and say anything that might make things better. He didn't want to ruin his only good friendship and his love life too. “Curly...” Jimmy said in the doorway. Curly turned his head to look. He still had tears running down his face. “Get out.” Curly said. “Can we just talk about this?” Jimmy pleaded.

Curly had a deadpan expression as he turned his head back his lap. “No. I don't want to see or talk to you.” “Please. I don’t want to lose you.” Jimmy said, taking a few steps closer.

“I said. Get out.” Curly said without moving. Jimmy wanted to just turn around and go, but he couldn’t let it end like this. He stepped in front of Curly to get him to look at him “I’m really sorry.” Curly looked at him. Jimmy was worried that he was going to just get up and walk away. But he was listening.

“Okay. Just tell me why you called me a ‘Faggot’?” Curly asked. Jimmy had to tell him the truth. Be honest Jimmy. “I..” He paused and took a few breathes. It was hard to say. “I’ve liked you for a while now, and when you touched me earlier, my heart was racing. I was afraid of these feelings I had and.. I guess I panicked.”

“Panicked?! You called me possibly the most hurtful thing and acted like I had a disease when I kissed you when I’m pretty sure that’s what our conversation was leading up to. I thought I felt that mutual connection.”

“It was. It was supposed to lead to that, I know.. I’m so sorry. I’m just an Idiot. I told you I’m a screwup. Can you forgive me? Even a little?” Jimmy asked. Curly was silent for a while, just staring at him. Jimmy’s nerves were on end. “You know I like you, too.” Curly said, “and I’ve been worried what it could do to our friendship too. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Maybe, but I think it's worth it.” Jimmy moved forward and placed a soft kiss on Curly’s lips and pulled back and smiled. It was the most courageous thing he’d ever done and he’s glad that he did, sometimes you can’t let fear win. Not let it get in the way of a greater feeling. A greater good. A greater love.

Curly leaned in and placed his right arm around Jimmy’s neck pulling them together for another kiss. “I’ve had a crush on you for years.” Jimmy said in-between kisses as Curly planted light kisses around his face making him giggle. He didn’t want this moment to end. Suddenly Curly pulled back, “Did you panic because of your dad? What he’s said to you your whole life?”

“Yes, I guess. I’ve never really felt love, and no one has ever loved me, I thought I didn’t deserve it. I was afraid of hurting you, and myself” Jimmy said, looking into Curly’s eyes. Then he looked away, “How did you know that I liked guys?” Curly shrugged. “Well, I’ve liked you for a long time so I guess I just hoped. You’ve never been into anyone really so I didn’t know which side you batted for.”

If Jimmy was smarter, more courageous and never let fear win in he first place they could’ve been like this for a long time. But still, he’d never felt this happy. He never knew it was possible. Curly was looking around nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Jimmy asked. Curly moved so his mouth was next to Jimmy’s ear and whispered, “Anya’s watching us from the kitchen. But, don't look!” Jimmy whispered back. “Should we stop?” Curly responded with a kiss and a few words. “Not a chance. Let the world watch.” He then got in front of Jimmy and pulled his head towards him into a kiss. Jimmy grabbed onto Curly’s hips to steady himself. God, he’s amazing! Jimmy thought and he let out a slight moan which made Curly giggle slightly. The kiss was just so intoxicating.

They moved so Curly was against the wall and Jimmy pressed his body against him. “So.. “ Jimmy said in-between kisses, “are we like.. together now?” “I’d like that.” Curly paused for a few more kisses, “But there’s a few things we need to discuss when we’re not trying to eat each other’s faces off..”

Jimmy laughed at that and looked up at him with bedroom eyes. “Like what?” “Well..” he whispered, “Are we going to be open about this? We’ve already been caught by Anya, but what about Swansea? Daisuke? We are going to still be on the ship for another eight months.” Jimmy was slightly surprised by Curly’s thoughtfulness. His heart began to beat hard and he began to get nervous again. He never thought this far ahead, but Curly had. “Yes, if we are going to be together, we should be honest about it.”

Jimmy replied and then paused and looked away. “Are you sure, it is okay with you?” Curly grabbed his face and peppered him with kisses again. “Of course it is.” There was one more question Jimmy had. “So.. “ he whispered with a smile, “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Despite his internalized homophobia and despite his unintentional harsh language to Curly. It had all worked out, his dad had been wrong. He would find someone to love him. He had someone who loved him. Curly's hand moved to stroke his hair, his touch gentle and soothing. "Of course I do. You won't ever lose me," he assured him. "I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together, now. And we'll figure it out, okay? We'll make mistakes, we'll fight, we'll cry, but we'll work through it. Because that's what people do when they love each other. They stick together, no matter what."

Jimmy could feel a sense of calm washing over him at Curly's words. He had always known that Curly was strong and confident, but seeing this side of him - tender and vulnerable - made him realize just how deep his love for him ran. "Okay," he whispered, nodding against Curly's chest. "I trust you. I trust us. I love you so much." Curly pressed another kiss to his temple, holding him tight. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I've ever loved anyone in my life. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you never doubt it again. So bed?”

Jimmy's heart leapt at the suggestion. He felt a little nervous, but also incredibly excited at the prospect of sharing a bed with Curly in a new perspective. "Yeah," he nodded, his voice a little shaky. "I'd like that." Curly chuckled. “To sleep, we don’t have do anything like that. I mean we’ve been together for 4 minutes and kissed twice or something so…” Jimmy smiled, his nerves settling a bit. He knew Curly was trying to be considerate and take things slow, and he appreciated it.

"I know," he agreed, "but I still want to sleep next to you. I've been dreaming about that for years. Part me think this is a dream and I’ll wake up and it’s not real and I’ve fallen asleep in the cockpit.” Curly gently cupped Jimmy's face in his hands, his touch gentle and loving. "It's not a dream," he assured him. "I'm real, and I'm here with you. And I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, every morning, every night. Holding you."

“Always?” Jimmy said with a raised eyebrow.

“Always.” Curly confirmed.

Chapter Text

Jimmy woke up with a start, disorientated for a moment until he realized where he was. He was lying in bed with Curly, their limbs tangled together. As his awareness returned, he felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him. For the first time in a very long time, he had actually slept well and hadn't been plagued by nightmares. He looked up at Curly, who was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. His heart swelled with love as he watched him, and he couldn't help but reach out and gently touch his cheek, just to make sure he was real.

Curly stirred at the touch, his eyes fluttering open. He looked a little groggy, a little disoriented, before his gaze landed on Jimmy and a smile spread across his face. "Morning," he murmured, his voice raspy with sleep. "You're still here." Jimmy whispered, cuddling back into Curly after waking with a start. Curly chuckled, wrapping his arms around Jimmy and pulling him close. "Of course I am," he said, his voice thick with affection. "Did you think I'd disappear in the night or something?"

Jimmy pressed his face into Curly's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. "I was just making sure," he murmured, his voice muffled by Curly's shirt. "I've never slept that well before, and I didn't want to wake up and find out it was all a dream." Curly's hand rubbed lazy circles on his back, and Jimmy felt himself melting into his embrace. "It wasn't a dream," Curly assured him. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together, remember?" Jimmy felt a wave of relief wash over him as he listened to Curly's words. For so long, he had been alone, facing his demons on his own. But now, he had someone by his side, someone who loved him and wanted to face whatever challenges came their way together.

"Yeah," he echoed, snuggling closer to Curly. "I like the sound of that." Curly chuckled again, feeling the contentment radiating from Jimmy. "Good," he said softly, his lips gently pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Because that's how it's going to be from now on. You and me, together, no matter what comes our way."

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other and enjoying the simple pleasure of being close. Jimmy felt a sense of peace wash over him, a feeling of being exactly where he was meant to be. For the first time in a long time, he felt secure and loved, and he knew that he could face anything as long as Curly was by his side. “Captain and Co-pilot, we kind of go hand in hand.” Curly chuckled.

Jimmy smiled, his heart swelling at the thought of being partners with Curly in more ways than one. "Yeah, we do," he agreed, resting his head on Curly's chest. "But we're more than just a captain and co-pilot now, aren't we?" Curly's hand gently tangled in Jimmy's hair, and he could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his ear. "Way more," he agreed, his voice low and affectionate. "We're partners in every sense of the word now. Partners in life, partners in love."

Jimmy's heart fluttered at Curly's words, and he couldn't help but grin like an idiot. He had always dreamed of being with Curly, but now that it was actually happening, it still felt surreal. "Partners in crime?" he joked, lifting his head to look up at Curly with a mischievous glint in his eye. Curly chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "You bet," he said, his hand coming up to playfully tousle Jimmy's hair. "We're going to cause all sorts of trouble together. They're not going to know what hit them."

Jimmy snuggled back into Curly's chest, feeling happier than he ever had in his entire life. He knew that there were going to be challenges ahead, but he also knew that as long as he had Curly by his side, he could handle anything. "We're going to be unstoppable," he murmured, his lips brushing against Curly's neck. Curly's hand slid down Jimmy's back, coming to rest possessively on his hip. "Damn right we are," he agreed, his voice tinged with arrogance. "We'll take on the world together, and no one will stand in our way."

“How do you think the others will react?” Curly shrugged. “Well, Anya already saw us kiss so she’ll have probably called it, Daisuke will think it’s cool and Swansea will be indifferent. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of the crew’s reactions, and he felt a little more relaxed. "Yeah, I think you’re right," he said, his voice a little steadier now. "It’s just... I’ve been hiding my feelings for you for so long, it feels weird to think about sharing them with anyone else."

Curly's hand slid down to gently cup Jimmy's chin, turning his face up to look at him. "I know," he said softly, his gaze locked with Jimmy's. "But you don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to hide anymore. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters. We should probably get up for the day.” The thought of moving only made Jimmy groan.

*************

Curly and Jimmy were sitting together in the ship's lounge, both of them looking relaxed and content. They had been together for six months now, and their relationship had grown stronger with each passing day. They had navigated the initial challenges of telling the crew about their relationship, and the crew had thankfully been supportive and accepting. The crew had even grown fond of their relationship and often teased them about it.

It was different than when Curly sat in this lunge six months ago having walked away from Jimmy when he was afraid of his own head, afraid of feelings and lashed out at Curly. Now, he was here with Curly, and he felt a sense of peace and belonging that he had never experienced before. Curly's arm was draped around his shoulders, and he was pressed closely against his side, basking in the warm, comforting presence of the man he loved.

Curly's free hand was tracing lazy patterns on Jimmy's thigh, and he could feel the warmth radiating from his touch. Every time Curly touched him, it was like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, and he never wanted it to stop. They were both sipping on their drinks, the soft hum of the ship's engines providing a soothing background noise. The mood was peaceful, cozy, and they were just enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

Jimmy leaned his head against Curly's shoulder, his heart swelling with affection. He couldn't believe how much his life had changed in the past six months. He had gone from being a conflicted, nervous wreck to being blissfully happy and madly in love. And it was all thanks to the man sitting beside him. Curly turned to look at him, a lazy smile on his lips. "You're awfully quiet over there," he said, his voice low and affectionate. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Jimmy chuckled softly, feeling his heart flutter at the sound of Curly's voice. "Just thinking about how lucky I am," he said, tilting his head up to meet Curly's gaze. "Being with you makes me feel alive in a way I never thought possible." Curly's expression softened, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the top of Jimmy's head. "I feel the same way," he murmured, his heart swelling with love. "I never knew life could be this good until I met you. You've completely changed me."

Jimmy nuzzled into Curly's shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. "I love you more than anything," he said quietly, his voice tinged with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Curly's arm tightened around Jimmy's shoulders, holding him close, his heart full to bursting. "You don't have to worry about that," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm never letting go of you. We're in this together, for the long haul."

“Even when being stuck on a ship with me for months in space?” Curly chuckled at Jimmy's words, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Especially after being stuck on a ship with you for months in space," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "Who else am I going to have to keep me company on long, lonely nights?" Jimmy couldn't help but smile at Curly's words, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through his chest. He knew that he'd never tire of Curly's company, no matter how long they were stuck together. "Well, I am pretty entertaining," he quipped, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Curly laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That you are, my little entertainer," he said, giving Jimmy's thigh a playful squeeze. "You certainly know how to keep things interesting." Jimmy's cheeks flushed with pleasure at the compliment, and he snuggled closer to Curly, feeling safe and secure in his arms. He would never get tired of this, of being so close to the man he loved, feeling his touch, hearing his voice, smelling his scent. It was like a dream come true.

As they sat in comfortable silence, there was a knock on the door of the lounge. Curly and Jimmy looked up in surprise, their peaceful bubble momentarily shattered by the unexpected interruption. Curly was the first to react, clearing his throat and calling out, "Come in."

Daisuke came in and Curly smiled at the young intern Swansea was mentoring. “You know you don’t need to knock to come into the lounge, Daisuke.” Daisuke chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish at Curly's words. "Yeah, I know. It's just a force of habit," he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything." "You're not interrupting anything," Curly reassured him, gesturing for Daisuke to come in and sit down. "We were just sitting here, enjoying the peace and quiet."

Daisuke took a seat across from them, his gaze flickering to the way Curly's hand was still resting possessively on Jimmy's thigh. He couldn't help but notice the cozy atmosphere in the room, the way they were sitting so close to each other, and the affectionate glances they were exchanging. “Captain, can I talk to you about something?” Curly nodded, giving Daisuke a curious look. "Of course, go ahead," he said, shifting his attention fully towards the intern.

Daisuke didn’t exactly know how to start the conversation. Everyone on the ship already assume he was a male but what they didn’t know was he was just presenting as a male, he was still a female biologically and he hated that but he wanted to tell them as he wanted to ask if he could maybe live with someone when they get back to earth as his parents had disowned him at the age of 15.

He is currently 16. Barely old enough to even be here to work but it was to get away from his parents. Curly noticed the awkward expression on Daisuke's face and furrowed his brow in concern. He leaned forward slightly, his hand still resting on Jimmy's thigh. "What is it, Daisuke? You look like you have something important you want to say."

Daisuke took a deep breath, clearly trying to work up the courage to say what he wanted to say. Curly could sense that this was no ordinary conversation, and he braced himself for whatever was about to come next. Daisuke finally spoke up, his voice soft and hesitant. "I... I need to tell you something, Captain," he said, his gaze flitting nervously between Curly and Jimmy. "It's something that I've been keeping secret, and I don't know how you're going to react to it." Curly's expression turned serious, his eyes fixing on Daisuke with a concerned but understanding look. He could sense the gravity of what was about to be revealed and he nodded silently, signaling for Daisuke to continue, his hand still on Jimmy’s thigh.

Daisuke took another deep breath and fidgeted in his seat, clearly nervous about what he was about to confess. "It's kind of hard to say, but... the thing is, I'm not exactly a male. I mean, I was born female, but I've been living as a male for the past year now." Curly's expression changed immediately to surprise, his eyes widening in shock. He had never suspected that Daisuke was anything but male, and the revelation was unexpected. He glanced at Jimmy, who looked equally surprised, before turning back to Daisuke.

Curly took a moment to process this information, his mind racing with questions. "You've been living as a male for the past year...?" he repeated, his voice betraying his disbelief. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Daisuke looked down at his hands, his expression sheepish. "I was afraid," he admitted in a quiet voice. "I didn't know how you would react, or if you would still treat me the same. And I didn't want to make things awkward or complicated on the ship."

Curly's expression softened, his shock turning into understanding. "Daisuke, you don't have to be afraid of us," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "We're your crewmates. We're your friends. We would never judge you for who you are." Daisuke felt nothing but relief at that.

“Thanks, I was really worried cause well, I was wondering when we get back to earth could I maybe live with one of you?” Curly's eyebrows raised in surprise again, clearly not expecting that question. He glanced over at Jimmy, who looked equally taken aback.

"Live with one of us?" Curly repeated, his voice questioning. "Why is that?" Daisuke was only 16 so surely he has parents and a family. Why would he want to live with Curly and or Jimmy who he’s only known the length of this voyage. Daisuke bit his lip nervously and fidgeted in his seat. “Well, my parents are very traditional with origins that are Filipino as well as Japanese so they expected me to grow up into a normal proper young ‘lady’ and when I told them I’m transgender last year when I was 15….well it wasn’t good….”

Curly's expression softened again, now filled with concern and sympathy. He leaned forward, his hand still on Jimmy's thigh, as he listened intently to Daisuke's explanation. "They kicked you out when you told them you were transgender?" Jimmy asked, his voice low and gentle. He couldn't imagine the level of pain that must've caused Daisuke.

Daisuke nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Yeah," he admitted in a small voice. "They didn't want to accept it. They wanted me to be the girl they thought I was supposed to be. So they told me to leave and never come back. I've been living on the street since then what’s why I sighed up for this internship, so I at least have a bed and warmth.”

Curly's heart ached at the pain and vulnerability in Daisuke’s voice. He couldn’t imagine being kicked out by his own family and having to fend for himself on the streets at such a young age. He could also see how much Jimmy was affected by this, his eyes glistening with empathy. "You've been living on the streets since you were 15?" Jimmy asked, disbelief tinged in his voice. The idea of a young kid living alone, scrabbling for survival, was utterly heartbreaking.

“It’s only been the last year, I turned 16 last month.” Curly shook his head, a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes. "A year on the streets is still too long," he said, his voice firm. "You're just a kid, you shouldn't be out there on your own."

Daisuke nodded, his gaze dropping to his fidgeting hands. "I know," he said quietly. "It’s been hard. I've had to do things I'm not proud of just to survive.” Curly's expression hardened at that confession, his protective instincts kicking in. "What kind of things, Daisuke?” He asked, his voice tight. "What exactly have you had to do?" Daisuke was quiet for a long moment, clearly reluctant to share. But he knew he could trust Curly and with Jimmy there, it felt safer to say this.

"I've done... things... for money," he admitted, his voice soft and shamefilled. "Things I'm not proud of." Curly's heart sank at Daisuke's words, a wave of protectiveness washing over him. He could only imagine what kind of things Daisuke had to do to get by, and the thought of it made him feel physically ill.

"Daisuke, you didn't have to do that," Curly said, his voice tinged with regret. "You should have come to us, let us help you. Hell, even if you showed up at the company last year we would have helped you even if you didn’t work here.” Daisuke shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I didn't want to burden anyone," he said softly. "I thought I could handle it on my own. But I was wrong. I've been so lonely and scared and I’m scared of people knowing I was really a girl biologically.”

Curly's heart ached to hear those words. He could see the pain and fear in Daisuke's eyes, and it broke him. He wanted nothing more than to offer his protection and comfort, to make sure no one ever hurt the young intern again. "You're not a burden, Daisuke," Curly said firmly, his hand still on Jimmy's thigh, holding on tightly. "You never will be, okay? You're part of this crew, and we take care of each other. You shouldn't have to live in fear or do things you're not proud of just to survive."

Jimmy nodded vehemently in agreement, his own expression full of empathy. "Curly's right, Daisuke," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "We're here for you, okay? You don't have to face this alone anymore." Daisuke felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes at the kindness and understanding from Curly and Jimmy. He hadn't expected this reaction, had been bracing for judgment or rejection. But all he found was support and concern. "Thank you," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't know what to say. I just...I just really need somewhere safe to stay. I don't want to go back to the streets after we get back to earth."

Curly nodded, his grip on Jimmy’s thigh tightening as he shared a look with his partner then the young intern. "You don't have to, Daisuke," he said firmly. "You can stay with us as I think we’ll be living together when we get home but you're not going back out there."

"But I don't want to be a bother," Daisuke protested weakly, tears now falling down his cheeks. "I don't have any money to contribute or anything to offer-"

Curly shook his head firmly, cutting off Daisuke’s protest. "You don't need to offer anything, okay?" He said, his voice gentle yet firm. "We want to help you. You're not a burden, and you don't need to pay us back in any way. Just... let us take care of you, okay?" Daisuke looked at Curly, tears still in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed by the offer of help. "But...why? Why would you do this for me?" He asked, his voice small and vulnerable. "I'm just a kid you barely know."

Curly smiled warmly at Daisuke, his expression full of compassion. "Because you're one of ours. You're part of this crew, and we look after our own," he said simply. "And besides, you're a good kid. You don't deserve to be out there on the streets, alone and scared. You deserve a chance to be happy and safe, and we want to give you that chance." Jimmy nodded in agreement, his own expression full of empathy. "Curly's right," he said softly. "You don't deserve to suffer like that. You're one of us, and that means we take care of you no matter what."

Curly nodded. “So is there anything else we can do for you? To make you more comfortable? Is there anything you need that we can give you?” Daisuke hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure if he should bring up another request. But Curly's kind and open demeanor encouraged him. "Um, there is something..." he said hesitantly.

"What is it?," Curly inquired with an encouraging smile. "Anything you want, we'll make it happen." Daisuke's cheeks turned pink as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Well, there's one thing I've been wanting but I'm scared to ask..." he trailed off, looking away nervously. "Don't be scared," Jimmy chimed in gently. "You can ask us anything, we won't judge you."

Daisuke nodded, taking a moment to gather his courage. "I...I was wondering if you could maybe call me son? You don’t have to, it’s stupid but I kind of think you both like Dads, I know that’s silly though….”

Curly and Jimmy’s faces softened even further at that request, their hearts melting at the words “call me son.” It was clear that Daisuke hadn't had parental figures in his life for quite a while, and the two of them couldn't help but feel that protective fatherly instinct stir within them. "It's not silly," Curly responded gently, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's not stupid. If you want us to call you son, then we will, alright? We'll be your Dads if that's what you want, Daisuke. We’ll be your family.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement, his own expression filled with warmth and affection. "You're not stupid for wanting a family, kid," he said softly. "We're honored that you'd consider us as your dads. And we'll do our best to be the best dads we can be for you."

Daisuke's eyes shone with overwhelmed tears, his heart feeling fuller than it ever had before. The feeling of being accepted and wanted by not only one but two paternal figures was overwhelming. "Thank you," he sniffed, his voice quivering with emotion. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I did to deserve you both, but I'm so grateful for you."

Curly and Jimmy both reached out to place a gentle hand on Daisuke's shoulder, their touch filled with reassurance. "You don't have to earn our love, son," Curly said softly, looking deep into the intern's eyes. "You just need to be yourself, and we'll be right here for you. We're not going anywhere. No kid should earn love, they deserve it.” Jimmy nodded in agreement, his own expression filled with affection, "That's right. You don't have to prove anything to us. We'll love you as you are, no matter what. You deserve all the love and support in the world, and we're here to give it to you."

Daisuke felt a wave of emotions wash over him, tears streaming down his face as he felt overwhelmed by the love and acceptance from Curly and Jimmy. "You mean that? You really don't think I have to prove anything?" he asked, his voice soft and vulnerable. "That I'm good enough the way I am?" "Of course you’re good enough the way you are," Curly replied gently. "You don't have to change for anyone. We love and accept you just as you are, no conditions or expectations. You're a wonderful person, and you deserve to be loved and cared for. Hell, the fact that you’re a good kid alone is one of the reasons you were hired.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement, his own eyes shining with emotion. "That's right. You're exactly who you'resupposed to be, Daisuke. You're a caring and loyal person, and we're proud to be your Dads. We would never, ever expect you to be anything but yourself. You're perfect just the way you are."

“Now, is there anything else you need that we can help you with or that we can give you?” Daisuke wanted to bring up having a proper binder instead of sore tight ACE bandages around his chest to flatten his breasts that he really really shouldn’t wear this long (time he’s lost track of but it’s more than even weeks or months) or wear at all.

Curly and Jimmy both noticed the hesitation on Daisuke's face, and they could tell there was something else he wanted to ask for but was feeling nervous. "Is there something else you want to ask for, son?" Curly prompted gently, his gaze fixed on the intern. Daisuke thought better not to burden and well he can still kinda breathe with the bandages so no need to worry them both. “Nope.” He smiled.

Curly and Jimmy exchanged a glance, sensing that Daisuke was holding something back. They could see the hesitation in his eyes and the way his smile didn't quite reach them. Curly, being the more perceptive of the both of them, could sense that there was something more that Daisuke wanted to ask for but was holding back for whatever reason. Jimmy could sense the tension as well, and his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze flickering over Daisuke, trying to figure out what it was the intern was holding back. He couldn't tell what it was, but both he and Curly could tell there was more to the story than Daisuke was letting on.

But they let him go to bed anyways and went to bed themselves. They went to their shared bedroom, their minds still on the conversation that had just taken place with Daisuke. They could both tell that the young intern had more going on than what he had shared, but they didn't push him to reveal what was bothering him, leaving the young intern to deal with his emotions in private.

It was a late night, and they found themselves exhausted, and they fell asleep quickly, feeling emotionally drained from the earlier conversation with Daisuke. The worry and concern for the young intern lingered in their minds, even as they slept. Curled up together, they found comfort in each other's presence, their heartbeats syncing as they drifted off into a deep sleep. They slept soundly, their exhaustion catching up with them.

Chapter Text

Daisuke lay in his bunk, unable to sleep due to the tight Ace bandages around his chest, which he used to conceal his breasts. The uncomfortable sensation and his worry about being discovered as a girl caused him to toss and turn restlessly throughout the night, making sleep elusive. He knew he shouldn’t wear them and they are probably the more dangerous method of binding but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t want to have these stupid breasts. Even though Curly and Jimmy know of his true identity and accept him, they can’t change his body.

Daisuke felt frustration and helplessness well up within him as he lay in his bunk. He knew that the Ace bandages he was using to conceal his breasts were dangerous and could cause serious health issues, but he felt like he didn’t have any other choice. He didn’t want to have these unwanted breasts and longed to have his body match his true gender identity. Despite knowing that Curly and Jimmy had accepted him and he was safe, Daisuke knew they couldn’t change his body for him. The feeling of helplessness and frustration grew stronger as he continued to toss and turn, the tight bandages around his chest constricting his breathing and making it hard to sleep.

The discomfort and pain from the ACE bandages only added to his frustration and misery, making it even more difficult to sleep. Even as he tried to push away his thoughts and close his eyes, the pain in his chest and the tightness of the bandages kept him awake. His ribs were so sore. It pained him every time he took a breath in and he could barely feel his back.

The pain in his ribs from the tight bandages was excruciating, and every breath he took sent waves of pain through his chest. Daisuke could barely feel his back, and the discomfort was becoming unbearable. He knew he would need to remove the bandages soon, but the thought of having to deal with the pain and discomfort for even a moment longer made him feel even more helpless and miserable.

He wouldn’t do it. Cause then he’d see them. Those stupid things on his chest.

He can’t see them.
He won’t.
He can’t not be flat in the mirror.

Daisuke desperately wanted to avoid facing himself in the mirror and seeing the unwanted breasts on his chest. He couldn’t bear the sight of them, and the thought of not being flat was unbearable. The thought of removing the tight bandages and dealing with the pain was still too much, but the thought of having to look at his body and see the “female” parts was even more uncomfortable. Daisuke was caught in a cycle of pain and discomfort, torn between the need to remove the restrictive bandages and the fear of facing his own body and seeing the body parts he despised so much. He found himself unable to make a decision, caught in a tormenting cycle of worry and helplessness.

The thoughts and feelings swirling around in his head were overwhelming, leaving him feeling trapped and powerless. He knew he couldn’t keep wearing the tight ACE bandages - they were dangerous and painful. But the thought of having to face his body and see the parts he hated made him feel sick to his stomach. He tossed and turned for at least an hour and a half before laying on his back and admitting defeat. He felt awful. He could barely breathe and his mind just wouldn’t stop spinning.

He wanted to go to Curly, but he was scared….Daisuke was torn between the desire to seek comfort from Curly and the fear of confronting him. He knew Curly was supportive and accepting, but Daisuke still worried about his reaction and didn't want to burden him with his pain.

On the one hand, Curly had shown understanding and acceptance of his true identity, and Daisuke wanted the comfort and support. But on the other hand, he couldn’t help but worry about how Curly would react to his pain and discomfort, and he didn’t want to burden him with his problems.

Despite knowing Curly’s acceptance as well as Jimmy’s. Daisuke’s fear and doubt still lingered in his mind, but he knew he had to make the difficult decision. He winced in pain as he sat up, the tightness of the ACE bandages constricting his breathing. Every breath felt like a struggle, and he could feel the pain in his chest grow with each passing moment.

He took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his chest, and then slowly swung his legs out of bed. He had to confront Curly and face his fears, no matter how much it scared him. He was in too much pain to pretend everything was fine any longer. Daisuke pushed himself to his feet, bracing himself for the wave of pain that would inevitably come with standing up. The Ace bandages were wrapped so tight around his chest that every movement felt like a struggle. He could feel the pain in his ribs and back, and his breathing was labored and shallow.

Despite the pain, he gathered his courage and began to leave the room, his legs feeling wobbly and unsteady from the pain and discomfort. He knew he couldn't ignore it any longer, and he had to face Curly to get the support and comfort he needed...

Each step was a struggle, and he felt like he was going to burst. Every breath was a battle against the tightening bandages and his own fear. But he pushed on, slowly making his way toward Curly and Jimmy’s room.

As he approached their door, his mind was racing with conflicting emotions. Fear, hope, worry, and pain all swirled through his mind, creating a chaotic mixture of feelings. He took a deep, shaky breath and lifted his trembling fist to knock. He knocked softly on the door, his knuckles gently rapping against the cool metal.

The sound was barely audible, but to him, it seemed loud in the quiet corridor. He waited for a moment, his heart beating fast in his chest, as he braced himself for what was to come...

Anxiety clawed at his chest as he waited for a response, his heart pounding in anticipation. Every second felt like an eternity, and he couldn’t help but worry if they’d even hear his soft knocking. He stood there, holding his breath and waiting for a reply. The seconds ticked by, and the silence only intensified his anxiety.

What would they say? What would they do? Would they be supportive and comforting, or would they react in ways he didn't expect... The thoughts raced through his mind like a whirlwind, and he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that knotted his stomach. He needed their support, but the fear of rejection was too much to bear.

With each passing minute, the pain and discomfort grew stronger, his ribs feeling like they were about to break and snap in halves...

The wait of only a few seconds to half a minute felt like torture, and the pain in his chest and back only added to his suffering. The tight ACE bandages seemed to be constricting his breathing more and more tightly with every passing moment, and he could feel his body begging for relief...

Tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes, and he could feel a sob threatening to escape his lips. He was starting to feel lightheaded and nauseous, the pain and anxiety building up to a near-unbearable level. It was clouds of heaven had parted when the door finally opened.

The door opened with a soft swish, and the light from inside the room spilled out into the dim hallway. There in the doorway stood Curly, half-asleep and bleary-eyed, messy blonde curls and wearing a pair of low waisted shorts, a look of concern on his face as he took in the sight of Daisuke standing there, pale and trembling.

Curly's eyes widened in shock as he saw Daisuke, his expression immediately changing from tired to concerned. He took in the younger man's pallor and trembling figure, and he could tell something was seriously wrong. "Daisuke?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with worry. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

Daisuke managed a shaky nod, his face still pale and his body still trembling. "I...I can’t….I….I….I can’t breathe.” He managed to gasp out, his voice strained and pained after taking breaths in between. He could feel his ribs protesting against the tight bandages, each breath becoming more and more difficult.

Curly's concern deepened as he saw the pain etched on Daisuke's face and heard the raspy sound of his labored breathing. He instinctively reached out, his hands going to Daisuke's shoulders to brace him. "What do you mean you can't breathe?" he asked, his voice gentle but filled with concern. "What's going on, son? I know it’s hard but you have to talk to me."

Daisuke winced as Curly's hands came to rest on his shoulders, the touch sending a sharp jolt of pain through his body. He struggled to explain through his labored breathing, his voice strained and tight. "My chest...hurts… it’s tight..." he managed to gasp out, his body trembling with each word. "Can't breathe... hurts..."

Curly's expression turned into one of alarm as he heard the pain in Daisuke's voice and saw the discomfort in his trembling body. He could sense that something was seriously wrong. "Your chest hurts? It’s hard to breathe? What's making it so hard to breathe, son?" he asked urgently, his grip on Daisuke's shoulders tightening slightly.

Curly knew Daisuke’s breathing would only get worser if he tried to verbally reply. So he decided to rattle off some options for Daisuke to agree or disagree with so Curly could get an idea of what’s going on.

“Do you feel sick? Sore head? Sore throat?” Daisuke shook his head, managing to form the words. “No, not sick.” The pain in his chest and the difficulty breathing was the primary concern.

Curly nodded, taking in the information and trying to figure out what was going on. "Okay, not sick or sore. You feel tight in the chest? Like someone standing on you?" he asked, his gaze still fixed on Daisuke's face, looking for any signs of pain or discomfort.

Daisuke nodded, his expression pained as he confirmed the tightness in his chest. "Yes…tight. Can't breathe… hurts..." he gasped out, his voice growing even more labored with each word. “Did this just start tonight? Does it hurt more when you lie down?” curly asked.

Daisuke managed a weak nod, confirming that the pain and difficulty breathing had started that night. He also managed to answer Curly's second question, wincing as he agreed, "Hurts more when I lay down."

“Okay. You might have twisted something the wrong way a bit more than you should have. Can I take a look at your chest and listen to it to hear anything incase?”

This idea made Daisuke panic more and immediately deny Curly’s request. He didn’t want him to see his chest, the bruises, see the bandages and scold him. Then see his real chest, the one he wishes he can just slice off with a knife and be done with even if it killed him.

Curly picked up on Daisuke's immediate denial and the panic flashing in his eyes, and he knew that something more was going on. The young man's reaction to his request to look at his chest was more than just fear of pain.

"Daisuke, please," Curly said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "Let me look. I won't hurt you, I promise. I just need to check and see what's going on. Please, son." Daisuke shook his head rapidly. “No, I don’t want…..I don’t….I don’t want….I don’t…” His panicked speaking only worsened his breathing which Curly held him by the shoulders to try calm him.

Curly could feel the panic growing in Daisuke as the young man tried to refuse, his breathing becoming even more labored as he shook his head and denied Curly's request. Curly gripped him gently but firmly by the shoulders, trying to calm him down.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said gently, his voice steady. "Calm down, calm down. Your breathing isn’t gonna get any better like this, okay? I need to check your chest, son. If it hurts to touch I won’t go near it, I just need to see if anything is wrong or maybe something inside is wrong and you’re just not sick yet.”

Tears started to pour down Daisuke’s cheeks as he shook his head violently whilst shaking like it was automatic to response. Curly rubbed his shoulders, feeling his own tears prick at the sight of the boy sobbing from both pain and fear.

Curly's heart ached as he saw the tears streaming down Daisuke's face, and he could feel his own eyes starting to tear up as well. He continued to rub soothing circles on the young man's shoulders, trying to calm him.

"Sshhhh, it's okay," he said gently, his voice soft and low. "It's alright. Please, son, let me take a look. I promise I won't hurt you. I just need to hear your breathing, okay? You're really scaring me."

Daisuke’s voice was all choked up from both the inability to breathe and the sobbing combined. “I’m….I….I’m…I’m sorry…..”

Curly moved his hand to the back of Daisuke’s neck bringing his head down to kiss the boy’s hair and hold his forehead to Curly’s shoulder stroking the back of his head. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re alright, you’re gonna be just fine.”

He tucked a hair behind Daisuke’s hair. “It’s just a little look, it won’t take two minutes, you can time it. I don’t want anything to be wrong with you, my son.”

Curly could feel the tremors running through Daisuke's body as the young man sobbed onto his shoulder, and he held him close, the gesture both comforting and protective. He gently rubbed the back of the young man's head, his palm stroking the soft hair soothingly. "I know, I know," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's okay, son. Don't apologize, please, don't be sorry. It’s okay.”

He pulled back slightly so he could look into Daisuke's face, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness, his eyes wet with tears. "I just need to make sure you're alright, okay?" he said gently, his voice firm but reassuring. "Please, let me take a quick look. I won't touch anywhere that hurts, I promise. Just let me hear what your lungs sound like, okay? Just a few seconds, that's all."

Daisuke struggled to control his breathing, his body still trembling under Curly's touch. He could feel the fear and anxiety coursing through him, but the way Curly held him, the kindness in his eyes and the gentle tone of his voice, were soothing and reassuring. He took a deep, shaky breath and hesitantly nodded, his voice choked. "O-okay…."

“Yeah?” Curly wiped away a few of Daisuke’s tears and rubbed his cheek with his thumb. As Daisuke nodded again, Curly kissed his forehead again and rubbed soothing circles in shoulder. “That’s my brave boy, it’s okay.”

With Curly's reassurance and gentle touch, Daisuke felt himself slowly calming down, the pain in his chest and the panic he was feeling starting to gradually fade. Hearing Curly call him "his brave boy" made his heart feel all warm and soft inside, and he had to bite back another wave of tears. It felt like he had a father, one that seen him for him and could comfort him perfectly, a parent that really cared about him and his wellbeing and was helping him through this difficult decision.

He managed a weak nod, still trembling with emotion, but trying to put on a brave face for Curly. "I'm scared," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I don't want you to see…."

Curly nodded, his expression understanding. "I know, I know you're scared," he said gently, still rubbing comforting circles on the young man's shoulder. "And I get why you don't want me to look, I really do. But I need to make sure there's nothing wrong so you don’t need to go see Anya. It won't take long, and if it hurts at all I won't touch you, alright? Can you trust me on that?"

Daisuke felt himself slowly nodding again, the fear and anxiety starting to recede a bit.

Trust.

That's what Curly was asking. Trust, something that Daisuke had a hard time giving.

He'd been hurt too many times, betrayed by people who he thought he could trust, but looking into Curly's eyes, he felt something different. Something warm, something safe. He found himself nodding again, his voice slightly more steady now. "Okay," he whispered. "I…I trust you."

Curly's expression softened even more as he heard the young man's words. "I'm glad you trust me," he said gently, giving him a small smile. "Now, let’s go sit down in the lounge. We won’t wake up Jim, yeah?” Daisuke nodded again, his heart feeling just a little lighter. He let Curly lead him into the lounge, his steps a little more sure now, though the pain and difficulty in breathing was still there. He let Curly help him sit down on one of the couches, his body feeling weary and spent from all the emotion.

“Now just to see if I can hear anything without listening to your chest first. Best you can try take a deep breath for me, yeah? Make sure it's a deep one." Daisuke nodded again and took a deep breath, or at least, he tried to, but the tight feeling in his chest protested fiercely, and he ended up coughing instead. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his chest, his hand coming up to press against his ribs involuntarily. "Owww....It hurts..." he gasped, his voice tight and raspy.

Curly winced in sympathy as he saw the pain etched on Daisuke's face. He could see the young man trying to breathe deeply, but coughing instead, the sharp pain in his chest evident. "I know it hurts, I know it does," he said softly, his expression filled with concern. "You're doing so well, my son. Now, here’s the difficult part. I need you to take your shirt off so I see and listen better.”

Daisuke's eyes widened slightly as he heard Curly's request. The thought of taking his shirt off, letting Curly see his battered chest and the bandages that covered it made him feel vulnerable and exposed, even more scared. He'd been trying to keep that secret for so long, and now he was being asked to bare it to someone. "Wait, I...." he began, his voice shaking again. "I can't..."

Curly saw the look of fear and hesitation in Daisuke's eyes and felt a pang of compassion for the young man. He knew that whatever was going on with his chest was probably something serious, but he was also aware that the young man was deeply uncomfortable at the idea of taking his shirt off. He had to find a way to convince him, to make him understand that he was just trying to help. "Please," he said softly. "Please, son. It's just for a minute, I promise. I just need to see and listen to your chest, that's all. Just a quick look."

Daisuke's internal debate raged on. He didn't want Curly to see the truth, but he also knew that he needed help and that Curly was offering it. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his chest and the bandages covering it. He looked away, feeling vulnerable and ashamed, his hands clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. "Here..." he muttered.

Curly's eyes widened slightly as he saw the bandages on Daisuke's chest, his heart hurting at the sight of seeing the young man in so much pain.

He could see the pain and shame in the young man's eyes, and he felt an overwhelming wave of compassion and protectiveness. "Oh, son..." he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "Thank you for trusting me enough to show me. I think I see the problem, evidently.”

Curly’s stomach dropped at the angry, fierce bruises blotches of black and blue covering Daisuke’s torso, most were concealed behind the cause; ACE bandages wrapped tight as a vice around the young man’s torso to act as a flattening device for his chest. The bruises he was seeing were peaking out under the bandages and around them, he knew the really bad ones were concealed beneath them.

"Oh my stars," Curly breathed, his eyes growing wider as he took in the extent of the damage. The angry blue-black bruises around the young man's ribs were shocking. He realized that the ACE bandages were being used as a form of binding, to try and flatten the young man's chest, but they were causing far more damage than good. "Oh, my son," he said again, his voice shaking.

"We need to get these off immediately. I’m gonna grab a pair of scissors because they’re thick bandages and they’re layered. I’ll grab one of my shirts too alright so they be big and baggy in you." Curly smiled softly, only wanting to make the young man comfortable as possible.

Curly smiled reassuringly at the young man, his eyes filled with understanding and sympathy. "You're very welcome," he said softly, standing up and walking over to the first aid kit. He rummaged through the kit, looking for a pair of scissors, and finding them on the bottom.

He also went and grabbed a clean pyjama shirt of his from him and Jimmy’s room, it would be big and comfortable, just in case the young man wanted to cover up after they got the bandages off. He returned to Daisuke who was still sitting on the couch, his chest still bare and the bandages wrapped tight around his ribs.

Daisuke waited for Curly to return, still feeling exposed and vulnerable. He fiddled with his fingers, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. When Curly returned, he saw the scissors and the shirt in his hand, and his heart skipped a beat. He knew what was coming next, and the thought of having the bandages removed terrified him.

Curly sat down beside Daisuke, placing the scissors and shirt beside them. He could feel the young man's anxiety radiating off of him, it was obvious that the idea of having the bandages removed was making him afraid. He reached out and gently touched Daisuke's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Now," he said softly, his voice soothing. "This is gonna be a bit uncomfortable so bear with me, okay son? We'll go slow and easy, I promise."

Curly was gentle as he cut through the bandages, thinning each layer until they came loose, freeing Daisuke’s chest and restoring his breathing to him for the time being. He didn’t look anywhere but the bandages and when they came free, he didn’t inherently look at Daisuke’s now bare chest just a quick glance over of the worser bruises that were previous hidden.

Each cut through the bandages made Daisuke wince, the pressure around his chest gradually loosening. He could feel his breathing improve, and the pain in his chest easing. He felt a mixture of relief and vulnerability as the bandages were removed, his chest now bare for Curly to finally see in full. He looked away, feeling self-conscious and exposed, hoping that Curly wouldn't stare too long or make any comments.

Curly could see the way Daisuke had turned away, trying to shield himself from view, and he felt a pang of sympathy. He knew how uncomfortable and exposed the young man must be feeling, and he wanted to reassure him. "It’s all done, son," he said softly, his tone gentle. "It’s all over.”

Daisuke let out a shaky breath, finally feeling some relief now that the bandages were off. The pressure on his ribs was gone, and his breathing felt easier now, though he still felt vulnerable and exposed with his chest bare. He still avoided eye contact, unsure what Curly was thinking now that he could see the full extent of the damage on his torso. "Can I...put on the shirt now?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Curly nodded, reaching for the shirt he had grabbed from his and Jimmy's room. "Yeah, of course, you can.” He said softly, holding out the shirt for Daisuke to take. "Here you are, slip it on."

He tried to keep his gaze neutral, not wanting to embarrass Daisuke any more than necessary, but he couldn't help but notice the extent of damage on Daisuke's torso. The bruises on his chest were ugly, dark and angry looking. He’d have to speak to Anya about how they could sooth and calm the bruises for the time being, as well as searching for a much safer way for Daisuke to bind his chest while still aboard the ship.

The shirt slipped over Daisuke's head easily, feeling the soft material against his skin. It was comfortable and big, just like Curly had promised, and it did a good job of concealing the bruises on his chest. He adjusted the shirt, making sure it was covering him properly, and sighed in relief. Curly watched as Daisuke put on the shirt, relieved to see the young man feeling a bit more comfortable now. But his thoughts were elsewhere, worrying about the bruises on Daisuke's chest and how they would heal.

Curly knew that the bruises would take some time to heal, and he couldn't help but worry about how long it would take. He also knew that Daisuke would need to find a safer and more comfortable way to bind his chest while they were on board the Tulpar. He made a mental note to talk to Anya about it, hoping that she would be able to provide some helpful suggestions.

"You feel a little better now, yeah?" Curly asked gently, his gaze flicking back to Daisuke's face. He could see that the young man was still fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable and perhaps a little anxious, but he hoped the shirt had provided some small measure of comfort at least.

Daisuke nodded, feeling a bit more comfortable with the shirt on, even though the bruises on his chest still ached. "Y-yeah," he replied quietly. "It's...it's better now." He avoided looking directly at Curly, still feeling a bit self-conscious and vulnerable.

“I’m proud of you. It took a lot of guts to come to me for help. I’m glad you did. Now we’ll discuss this in the morning, okay? I’ll take a discreet talk with Anya to see if she can help. She’s the medical one here.” He knew Daisuke wasn’t keen on anyone else but him and Jimmy knowing but Anya is medically trained and she’ll know how to sooth bruises and pain.

Daisuke nodded again, still feeling a mixture of relief and vulnerability. He knew that Curly was right, and that he had been brave to come to him for help. But the thought of anyone else, especially Anya, knowing about his situation made him uncomfortable. He fidgeted awkwardly with the hem of the shirt, the idea of someone else knowing about his secret was frightening. "Um...do we have to tell Anya?" he asked tentatively.

“I won’t tell her anything specific if you don’t want me to. I’ll just ask her how we can calm down some bruises and see if she can give you some pain relief for strained muscles, yeah?” He winked.

Daisuke nodded, feeling a little relieved at Curly's reassurance. He didn't want anyone else to know the truth about his binding or the reason for his bruises, but he needed some relief from the pain and soreness in his chest. "Okay," he said quietly. "That...that sounds okay." Curly smiled, glad that Daisuke was agreeing to let Anya help, even if he didn't want her to know the whole truth. "Great," he said softly. "I'll talk to her tomorrow and see what she can do. In the meantime, you just take it easy, okay? Try not to strain yourself or do anything too strenuous, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me, alright?"

Daisuke nodded again, appreciating Curly's kindness and concern. "I will," he replied, his voice quieter than usual. He was tired and sore, and the idea of taking it easy sounded tempting. "Thanks...for everything, Cap. And I’m sorry for waking you up so late.”

Curly waved away his apologies, dismissing them with a gesture. "Don't apologize; you did nothing wrong," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I'm just glad you came to me for help. I don't want you suffering in silence. Now get some rest, alright? You look beat."

Daisuke nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over him. The events of the evening had taken a toll on him, and all he wanted to do now was rest and try to forget about what had happened. "Yeah, I think...I need some sleep," he said quietly, his words punctuated by a soft yawn.

Curly nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, go crashout. Sleep as long as you need. And you know you don’t need to call me Captain or Cap. Curly’s fine.” He smiled.

Daisuke managed a small smile in return, feeling a little more at ease now. Curly's friendly tone and reassuring words helped to ease some of his anxiety. "Okay, Curly," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Goodnight."

Curly gave him a warm smile, feeling a surge of affection for the young man. "Goodnight, son," he murmured, patting him on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, alright? I'll take care of the rest."

Daisuke smiled weakly, feeling a wave of tenderness at Curly's words. Even though he was a grown man, he couldn't help but feel a little like a child in Curly's presence. It was strange how the older man could make him feel safe and comfortable, like a paternal figure. He felt like his damaged inner child was restoring with having Curly and Jimmy as father figures.

He nodded quietly, his eyes starting to droop with exhaustion. "I will," he whispered, his voice drowsy and soft. Curly noticed the tiredness in Daisuke's eyes and knew it was time for him to rest. "Good. Now off to bed with you,"he said firmly, giving the young man a gentle nudge towards the door. "You look like you're about to pass out."

Daisuke couldn't help but laugh softly at Curly's words. Even in his drowsiness, he found the old man's manner endearing. He stifled another yawn, his eyelids feeling heavy with sleep. "Yeah, you're right," he muttered, reluctantly rising to his feet. "I'd better get some shut-eye before I fall over."

“I’ll head back to bed too, Jimmy’s probably not even realized I haven’t been in bed for over an hour. The ship could explode and he wouldn’t notice.” He laughed before giving a final nodded and walking tiredly back to his and Jimmy’s room.

Daisuke laughed softly, imagining Curly's partner blissfully asleep while the ship was in crisis around him. "Sounds about right," he muttered, a fond smile on his face. He watched as Curly disappeared down the corridor, disappearing into the darkness.

With Curly gone, Daisuke stood alone in the hallway for a moment, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable once again. The fear and anxiety he had felt earlier came creeping back, and he found himself fidgeting nervously with the hem of the shirt he was wearing, feeling self-conscious about the bruises that were hidden beneath it. He shivered a little as the cold air from the ventilation system hit his skin.

He went back to his own room and crawled into bed feeling a little relief when he laid down and there wasn’t excruciating pain.

For once, Daisuke felt like he was in good hands and just maybe everything would be better tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Curly had crawled back into bed and Jimmy crawled into his waiting arms. Jimmy mumbled something in his sleep as Curly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Curly couldn't help but smile at his partner's sleepy mumbling, finding the sound adorable. He buried his face in Jimmy's messy black hair, inhaling the familiar scent that was uniquely Jimmy.

As he lay there, holding him close, Curly couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The events of that night were still fresh in his mind, the image of Daisuke's injured chest and bruised ribs flashing through his mind again and again. He couldn't stop thinking about the young man and the pain he was in.

How long had Daisuke been suffering in silence? How many times had he hidden his injuries, putting on a brave face and trying to carry on as if everything was fine? Curly felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness, a deep-seated desire to make sure Daisuke was safe and cared for.

He knew that Daisuke needed help. The bruises on his chest were not superficial, and they needed to be properly treated. Curly knew that Anya, as the onboard medic, would be best equipped to help, but he also knew that Daisuke was hesitant to let anyone know about his secret. He was torn between wanting to help the young man and respecting his boundaries.

He lay there sleepless, lost in thought, the image of Daisuke's bruised and battered chest still fixed in his mind. He felt a sense of responsibility for the young man, a desire to protect him from harm and to help him heal. But he also knew that he couldn't force Daisuke to accept help, no matter how much he wanted to.

Curly closed his eyes, trying to push away the thoughts and doubts that were swirling through his mind. He needed to get some rest, to clear his mind and focus on helping Daisuke in the morning. Jimmy shifted again in his sleep, mumbling something indistinguishable before settling back into Curly's arms once more. Curly couldn't help but smile at his partner's adorable sleeping habits, his heart filling with affection for the younger man.

But even as he lay there, holding Jimmy close, Curly's thoughts kept returning to Daisuke and the pain he was in. He knew he had to talk to Anya in the morning, to try and find a way to help the young man without violating his trust. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the negative thoughts and just focus on the feel of Jimmy's warm body against his, the comforting weight of him in his arms. It was strange, how caring so much about someone could be both a blessing and a curse. He felt a fierce protectiveness towards both Jimmy and Daisuke, a desire to keep them both safe and sound.

He held Jimmy a little closer, running his fingers through his soft, messy hair, and tried to let the steady sound of his breathing soothe his troubled thoughts. It was going to be a long night. But for now, Curly just had to hold on, to trust that everything would work out in the end. He closed his eyes and tried to push away the images of Daisuke's bruised chest, the memory of his pained gasps and shallow breathing.

Tomorrow, he would talk to Anya. But for now, he was just going to hold onto Jimmy, like he was the last anchor to the real world.

*********************

The following day, Curly found Anya in the infirmary, working on some medical reports at her desk. She looked up as he entered, her piercing green eyes narrowing a little as she took in his appearance. He must have looked a bit rumpled and tired.

"Morning," he said gruffly, trying to sound as casual as possible. Anya gave him a small smile in greeting, her gaze flickering over his tired face. "Morning," she replied, her voice smooth and cool. "You look exhausted. Rough night?"

Curly shrugged, hands in his pockets of his jumpsuit. “Eh, I slept a bit but I’m looking for some advice….medically.” Anya raised an eyebrow, sensing the serious tone in his voice. She sat back in her swivel chair, gesturing for him to take a seat across from her desk. "Alright, shoot. What seems to be the problem?" she said, folding her hands in her lap.

Curly took a seat across from her, trying to find the right words. How do you ask for medical advice for someone without breaking their trust? "Well, it's...it's not for me," he said carefully. "It's for...for someone else."

"Oh?" Anya's eyes flicked over him, curious now. She shifted in her seat, a little more alert. "Who's the patient, then? Jimmy?” Curly shook his head. "No, no it's not Jimmy," he said, his expression growing a little more serious. "It's..." he paused, trying to think of the right words. "Promise you'll keep this to yourself, alright? Can't even let Jimmy know about this."

Anya frowned a little at that, her curiosity growing even more. She could tell this was something serious. She nodded, her gaze never leaving his face. "Alright, I promise," she said softly. Curly took a deep breath, knowing he could trust Anya's discretion, but also knowing that Daisuke might not like him sharing this. "It's...it's Daisuke," he said quietly. "He came to me last night...he said that he's had some bruises on his chest and ribs and it's hurting him. Wanted to know if you could take a look, give your two cents on it and maybe a solution until we’re back to earth.”

Anya's expression turned serious at that, her mind immediately switching into medical mode. "Bruised ribs, huh? How bad are they?" she asked, her tone all business now. "Did he say how he got them?" A thousand things and ideas were going through her mind, most likely a few possibilities.

Curly nodded but didn’t say anything. He knew Daisuke wouldn’t be keen on Anya knowing the truth but he has to help him. Anya could see by the look on Curly's face that there was more to the story, something being left unsaid. But she didn't press, knowing that Curly was trying to protect the young man's privacy. "Alright, I'll examine him," she said simply. "When do you want me to see him?"

“Could do you do now if I go get him? Whilst Swansea and Jimmy are still asleep.” Anya nodded, her mind already focused on the task at hand. "Sure. Bring him here now," she said, her gaze still fixed on Curly. "I can start the initial examination and see what I can do right away." Curly nodded, giving her a small grateful smile. "Thanks, Anya. I'll go get him now."

Curly left the infirmary and walked through the ship's corridors, making his way to the room where Daisuke was staying. He felt a hint of guilt for going behind the young man's back, but he knew that Anya could help him. He knocked on Daisuke’s door gently, calling out softly. "Daisuke? You there, son?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of stirring inside the room. The door opened a crack, and Daisuke peered out at Curly, still looking tired and bleary-eyed. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Curly standing there, and he pulled the door open a little wider. "Curly? What is it?" he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep.
He was till wearing the big baggy shirt of Curly’s he slept in given to him by the older man and a pair of sleep shorts.

Curly couldn't help but feel a pang of tenderness as he saw Daisuke standing there, disheveled from sleep and wearing his shirt, which was several sizes too big for him. He resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair affectionately. "Sorry to wake you, son," he said softly. "Can you come with me for a minute? Anya wants to see you."

Curly didn't miss the look of fear in Daisuke's eyes. He could guess what the young man was thinking, and he understood his hesitation. He tried to keep his voice as gentle and reassuring as possible. "She just wants to check you over, see how bad those bruises are," he replied. "She won't judge, I promise you. She just wants to help."

Daisuke felt a wave of anxiety wash over him at Curly's words. The thought of having Anya examine his chest and seeing the results of his binder was terrifying, but he knew that the bruises were not healing on their own. He could feel the ache in his ribs with every breath he took, and the pain was constant and sharp. He hesitated for a moment longer, then finally nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay..."

Curly noticed the way Daisuke's body tightened with tension, the way he fidgeted with the hem of the old shirt he was wearing. It was obvious that the young man was feeling scared and vulnerable, but he was also trying to be brave. Curly felt a deep sense of affection for him, a fierce protective instinct rising in him. "Come on, son," he said softly, holding out his hand. "It'll be okay. I'll be right there with you the whole time."

Daisuke's hand trembled slightly as he took hold of Curly's hand, his body still feeling tense and anxious. He trusted Curly, though, and he knew that the older man would not let anything happen to him. He let Curly lead him out into the hallway, feeling vulnerable and exposed in the big shirt he was wearing, the bruises on his chest hidden beneath the fabric.

Curly could feel the young man's hand trembling in his, his heart aching at the thought of the pain he must be feeling. He gave his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he led him down the hall towards the infirmary, his steps slow and measured to match Daisuke's smaller stature. "You're doing so good, son," he murmured softly. "We're almost there. Just a little further."

Daisuke nodded, his mind racing as they walked. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with anxiety and fear. But he held onto Curly's hand tightly, feeling a sense of security in the older man's presence. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves as they approached the infirmary door. As they entered the infirmary, Anya looked up from her work, her eyes falling on Daisuke's small form standing shyly behind Curly. Her gaze flicked over him, taking in his appearance - the big shirt, the shorts, his bare feet. "Good morning, Daisuke." she said in a cool, professional tone. "Come here, please."

Daisuke felt a shiver run down his spine as Anya turned her attention to him, her gaze cool and professional. He could feel her eyes moving over him, taking in his small form and the oversized shirt he was wearing, and he felt suddenly conscious of how vulnerable he must look. He took a hesitant step forward, standing in front of her desk, his eyes fixed on the floor. "G-good morning," he mumbled, his voice quiet and shaky.

Anya's gaze softened a little as she saw how timid and nervous the young man looked, his eyes fixed on the floor. She beckoned him with a gentle gesture. "Come sit down here, for me," she said, indicating the examination table that sat in the middle of the room. "I just want to take a look at those bruises of yours our captain mentioned."

Daisuke nodded, his body still feeling tense and anxious as he approached the examination table. He climbed up onto it, feeling small and exposed as he sat there in his big shirt. He could feel Anya's eyes on him, studying him intently, and he fought the urge to curl up protectively.

Anya took a moment to pull on a pair of surgical gloves, snapping them into place with a crisp sound. Then she moved closer, her expression focused and professional as she looked at Daisuke. "Can you lift your shirt up for me, please?" she asked gently. "I need to take a look at those bruises on your chest." Daisuke felt a surge of panic at her request. The thought of lifting his shirt and revealing the bruises on his chest, and the binding that was causing them, made him feel sick to his stomach. He fidgeted nervously with the hem of the shirt, hesitating, his voice shaky as he spoke.
"I...I can't," he whispered, his heart racing.

Anya nodded, her expression softening a little as she saw the fear and panic in Daisuke's eyes. She knew she had to tread carefully. "I understand, it’s scary." she said quietly. "But I also know it hurts, and can't examine you properly unless I see the bruises.“

Daisuke swallowed hard, his mind racing with fear and anxiety. But he also knew that Anya was right. The bruises were still as bad as last night worse, the pain still practically constant despite the break his chest has had from restrictions. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and slowly lifted up the oversized shirt, revealing his bare torso.

Anya watched as the young man slowly lifted up the shirt, exposing his bruised and battered chest. She let out a soft sigh, her expression sympathetic. "It looks like you've had pretty tight pressure on here." she said quietly, gently touching the area around the bruises. Anya nodded, keeping her touch gentle and careful as the puzzle pieces started falling into place. "Your binder is caused this," she said softly. "I understand. But these look deeper like they weren’t caused by just a binder.”

Daisuke nodded with a sigh. “I…um…I used ACE bandages instead of a binder, I don’t own a real one….” Anya felt a pang of sympathy for him, hearing his confession. She could imagine how uncomfortable and painful it must have been for him, using ace bandages instead of a proper binder. "Ah," she murmured, her tone gentle. "That would explain the deeper tissue damage. I’m going to check to make sure your ribs aren’t in danger of being broken."

Daisuke nodded, wincing as Anya began to gently palpate his ribs, her fingers finding their way over the bruised skin. He could feel the pressure and pain with each touch, his breathing ragged and shallow. "Y-yeah...hurts when I breathe...hurts right here," he gasped, pointing to a particular painful spot on his chest.

Anya could see the pain etched into his face as he pointed to the spot that hurt him the most. She carefully felt around the area, gently applying pressure, her touch precise and thorough.

"Mm, looks like you have most of the deeper bruising to to your intercostal muscles and the rest around the surface.” she said quietly. "It's no wonder that it hurts to breathe." Curly crossed his arms against the wall. “What can you do for the bruises till we get back to earth?”

Anya pulled her hands back from the young man’s chest, her expression serious as she thought about his question. She knew that the bruising would need time to heal, and there was only so much they could do on the ship.
"Well, the best thing I can do for you is to recommend that you refrain from any strenuous activity, including wearing those makeshift binders and I’ll give you strong painkillers.” she said finally, her gaze flicking over the young man’s bruised chest.

Daisuke nodded, feeling a sense of dread at her words. He knew that refraining from wearing any kind of binding, even the makeshift ones, was going to be hard for him. He was used to keeping his binder on at all times, even during the night, to keep his dysphoria at bay. But he also knew that the bruises on his chest weren't going to get better if he continued to wear the bandages. "That...that’s going to be difficult," he admitted, his voice soft.

Curly rubbed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. I can give you a few of my shirts.” He said handing his shirt back that Daisuke wear last night for the young man to cover ups again. Daisuke felt a wave of gratitude for Curly, touched by his offer to give him some of his shirts. He took the shirt from the captain, pulling it on over his bare torso, the oversized shirt falling halfway down his thighs again.

The fabric was soft and comfortable, and the feeling was a welcome change from the rough and uncomfortable feeling of the ace bandages.
"Thank you, Cap.” he said quietly, his voice still shaky and weak.

Curly gave the young man a small smile, his gaze flickering over his figure. The big shirt made him look even smaller, his thin frame swimming in the fabric. It was obvious that it swallowed him up, the shirt hanging off his shoulders.

Curly couldn't help the pang of affection and protectiveness he felt for him, seeing him looking so small and vulnerable in his shirt. He reached out, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"You're welcome, son."

Daisuke felt a wave of warmth wash over him at Curly's gesture, the affectionate title sending a shiver down his spine. The captain's hand on his shoulder felt comforting and protective, and he felt a sense of safety and security in the older man's presence.

He gave Curly a small, grateful smile, his eyes still a little scared and vulnerable. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice soft and quiet. "Really, Dad…” He tried out hesitantly.

He knew Curly knew Daisuke viewed him as a Dad but he had never called him as such before. Curly's heart swelled at the sound of the young man calling him 'Dad.' It was a small thing, a simple word, but it meant the world to him. It was a sign that Daisuke trusted him, felt comfortable with him, and saw him as a father figure. He gave the young man's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"You're welcome, kiddo." he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. "Anything for you, son." Daisuke smiled at Curly's response, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He felt safe and cared for in the captain's presence, and the sound of being called "son" and "kiddo" made his heart swell.

He took a deep breath, his mind shifting back to the reality of his situation, and the pain in his chest. He fidgeted nervously with the hem of the shirt.

“Um, do you think we can get breakfast? I’m kinda hungry.” Curly smiled wide and nodded. “Sure thing! Come on, let’s go to the lounge. Anya, meet you there?”

Anya nodded in agreement, giving the two a small smile. "I'll join you shortly, I just need to write up the report." she said, gesturing towards the papers on her desk.

Curly nodded in return, patting the young man's shoulder lightly. "C'mon, kiddo." He said, starting towards the door. Daisuke followed behind Curly, walking slowly and gingerly due to the soreness in his chest. He fidgeted with the hem of the oversized shirt, still feeling self-conscious and vulnerable in the big shirt.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and comfort, walking next to Curly. The older man's large, muscular frame made him feel safe and protected, and he felt like he could relax a little bit. When they reached the lounge of the ship, the clock reading near 10AM. Swansea and Jim would be getting up soon, maybe a little later for Jimmy.

Daisuke sat on the couches as Curly walked into the small corner kitchen starting the coffee machine, one for him and one for Jimmy. “You drink coffee, son? Or you want something else?” Daisuke watched as Curly moved around the small kitchen, starting the coffee machine. He fidgeted nervously on the sofa, shifting awkwardly on the cushion. The thought of eating made him nauseous, but he didn't want to say anything.

"Uh...coffee…coffee is fine..." he mumbled, trying to ignore the pain in his chest whenever he moved too much. Curly looked at him, pouring milk into his own coffee and one tablespoon of sweetener after setting Jimmy’s black coffee aside. “Come on, son. You don’t have to have it. Coffee’s not for everyone.”

Daisuke shook his head, trying to force down the feeling of nausea that was rising in his stomach. He knew that Curly was right, but he didn't want to be a bother.

"No, really...it's fine." he said softly, fidgeting with the hem of the oversized shirt. "I...I like coffee." He knew that was a lie, but he didn't want to appear to be difficult. Curly appeared to read his mind, not pouring another cup and instead pouring an orange juice from the stacked coolers above the sink.

Daisuke felt a wave of relief wash over him as Curly pour him a glass of orange juice instead of coffee. He knew that the man had seen through his lie, and he felt a little sheepish for trying to pretend he liked coffee.

He gratefully accepted the glass, taking a long sip of the cool, tart juice. It felt refreshing and soothing on his dry throat, and he felt a little more comfortable as he sat on the couch. Just as he was taking another sip of the juice, Jimmy entered the lounge, his eyes still half-closed and his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked like he had just woken up, his eyes bleary and his movements sluggish.

He stopped in the doorway, blinking at the sight of Daisuke sitting on the couch, drinking orange juice and wearing Curly's shirt, which hung off his thin frame like a sack.

"What the..." He mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. “Good morning, love. Made you a coffee.” Jimmy grunted in response, stumbling over to the counter to where Curly handed him the cup of coffee. He took a long sip, nodding at the bitterness he always liked.

"Mornin'..." he muttered, still eyeing Daisuke suspiciously. "What's the kid doing in your shirt?" Oh. Curly forgot Jimmy doesn’t know. “I’ll tell you later but he’s alright.” He smiled at Daisuke.

Jimmy squinted at Curly, sensing the undertones in his voice. He could tell that there was something the captain wasn't telling him. "Later?" he said, taking another sip of the coffee. "Why can't you tell me now?"

“Jim.” Curly warned taking a sip of his own coffee, seeing Daisuke had picked up his gameboy thankfully only half listening to the conversation. Jimmy sighed, feeling a familiar sense of exasperation coursing through him. He knew that look in Curly's eyes and the tone of his voice. It was the captain's 'no questions asked' voice.

He set his mug down on the counter with a small clank, nodding grudgingly. "Alright, alright..." he muttered. "Later it is." Curly nodded. “Thank you, now can I get a morning kiss?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew that Curly was using the morning kiss as a diversion, trying to distract him from the topic at hand. But he couldn't resist the other man's boyish charm.

"You're insufferable." he mumbled, moving closer and giving Curly a brief, affectionate peck on the lips. Curly chuckled, his lips curling into a sly smile. He loved how predictable Jimmy was around him. The man was tough and gruff on the outside, but a softie on the inside.

"You love me." He said, giving his partner's shoulder a firm squeeze.

Jimmy rolled his eyes again, taking a sip of his coffee. "Unfortunately." Curly chuckled again, shaking his head. He knew Jimmy didn't mean it, he was just grumpy in the mornings. "Sure, say that now. But I know you'll be all over me later."

Jimmy huffed, shaking his head in faux annoyance. He knew deep down that Curly was right, he was a complete mess for the other man. He just wouldn't admit it out loud.

"Don't push your luck." he grumbled, taking another sip of his coffee but with a smirk on his lips and affection in his eyes pointed at Curly.

Chapter Text

The ship had settled into that early-night quiet where even the walls seemed to be holding their breath. Moonlight began to slide in a thin, forgiving sheet across the corner kitchen and the lounge.

Curly stood at the sink with his hands on the rim, shoulders lined with sleep and something heavier. The kettle clicked off; steam ribboned the air.

Jimmy came in like a storm that had decided, at the last second, to be a drizzle. Hair still damp from the shower, sleep T-shirt wrinkled, he paused in the doorway as if he’d walked into a room full of glass and wasn’t sure where to step. He shot Curly a sidelong look and went for the mugs.

“How’s he doing?” Jimmy asked, voice kept casual like he wasn’t checking a pulse.

Curly took a beat. “Slept,” he said, and it was true enough to say out loud. He turned, palms flat on the counter. “Two days make a difference. Doesn’t hurt less, just… hurts honest.”

Jimmy handed him a mug. “That a medical term?”

Curly huffed a smile and let the heat of the ceramic bite his palms. “Anya says the bruising’s going yellow at the edges. That’s something.”

They drank, standing there, the way they always did when they had to look at something together without flinching. Outside, the cold darkness and silence of space outside.

“Tell me,” Jimmy said, and it wasn’t sharp, not this time. Permission, not a demand. Curly watched the steam drift off his tea. “He’s been using ACE bandages,” he said, soft and clean. No hedging. “To bind.”

Jimmy’s blink was small, just a shutter pass over something quick and pained. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. “He—why?” Jimmy asked, and the word landed like a pebble dropped into deep water. “We could’ve—there are—hell, there’s safer—”

“I know.” Curly set the mug down and rubbed a thumb over the ring of condensation. “He didn’t. Or he did and it didn’t feel reachable. Said he couldn’t stand how he felt without something binding.”

Jimmy’s mouth did that tight, treacherous soften it did when he tried not to show that he did in fact know how anything went. He looked at the window. “Anya say how bad?”

“Deeper tissue,” Curly said, and the words tasted metallic. “Not just surface bruising. Tight compression like that, wrong angles, too long. She told him no more. No lifting heavy. No running. Painkillers. Rest.”

Jimmy exhaled through his nose, long, like he’d been holding it since Tuesday. “He’ll hate that.”

“He already does.” Curly’s laugh was a little crooked. “He’s got that brave face, the one that says ‘I’ll be fine’ and means ‘I’m going to white-knuckle this until my teeth crack.’” He dragged a hand down his beard. “I told him he could have my shirts. The big ones. He tried one on and… stood a little taller. Not much. Enough to breathe.”

Jimmy’s eyes flicked to Curly’s chest, then away, as though the shirts were a territory he didn’t know how to name. “Good,” he said. It came out rough. “That’s good.”

Down the hall, the floorboard with the split in it murmured under a careful step. There was a pause, then another. The cold corridors of the Tulpar swallowed it.

“Daisuke still asleep?” Jimmy asked, softer. Curly’s gaze shifted briefly toward the hallway and back, a habit as old as fear. “Said he might nap. He’s not great at letting other people hold the reins.”

“We can’t let him keep doing that.”Jimmy muttered, and then, more deliberately, A breath caught in the space between the rooms, cheap and sharp.

Curly lifted his head. “Doing what?”

“Hurting himself to get through the day,” Jimmy said, and his voice didn’t quite trust itself. “Binding like that. Starving himself of air just to feel like—like he fits into his skin. We can’t let him. Not under—” He searched for a word and found one he could live with. “Not under our roof.”

The corridors’ air cooled more. The doorframe shadow tugged tighter.

Curly nodded, slow. “Yeah. I know.” He folded his arms, not defensive—containing. “I keep thinking about… what it means to be a father figure. We don’t get to pick the easy parts.”

Jimmy leaned his hip against the counter, knuckles pale against the mug. “He’s not ours,” he said, as if rehearsing a truth that felt like a lie.

Curly’s mouth twitched. “And yet.”

“And yet,” Jimmy echoed, weary, maybe a little resigned to the way his heart had the worst taste in projects.

“I didn’t tell you this morning because I didn’t want him to feel objectified if I told you in front of him.” Curly said. “But we need to be on the same page. No more bandages. We help him find a safe binder when he’s healed enough. When we’re home. We make it easier for him.”

Jimmy’s jaw clicked. “How?”

Curly shrugged one shoulder, a slow tide coming in. “Distraction. Company. Clothes that don’t ask questions. Keep him busy with things that don’t pull at his ribs. Remind him he’s not a problem to solve.”

Jimmy looked at Curly and something like gratitude flashed, then hid. “You always make it sound simple.”

“It’s not,” Curly said, because he refused to lie about this part. “It’s just… doable, if there’s more than one pair of hands.”

Footsteps skimmed the stairs beyond the hall and stopped, spider-light. The ship waited.

Jimmy’s voice lowered. “What if he—what if he thinks we’re telling him who he gets to be?”

“Then we say it better,” Curly replied. “Say that we want him to be who he is without paying for it in pain.”

Jimmy stared at the floor and took a swallow that didn’t want to go down. He set the mug aside and rubbed his palms together once, a man warming his fingers over coals. “We can’t let him stay like this,” he said, and the words, stripped down, sat heavy between his teeth.

A small shift in the hall—the brush of fabric against paint—made the silence flex. Then nothing.

Curly’s eyes flicked up, then softened on Jimmy again. “Hey,” he said, gentling his voice like he did with spooked horses and tired men. “We’re not throwing him to the wolves. We’re building a fence.”

Jimmy huffed a laugh that wasn’t one. “You and your metaphors.”

“They help me think in pictures,” Curly said, amused for a heartbeat. “Come on. We’ll talk to him after dinner. Softly.”

“Softly,” Jimmy agreed. He ran a hand over his face. “You’ll do most of the talking. He likes you better.”

“He likes that you pretend not to care so he doesn’t have to be grateful,” Curly said. “It’s a service.”

Jimmy shot him a look that had fondness disguised as a threat. “Shut up.”

They stood there a moment longer, both men looking someplace only they could see: a home of their own, a living room with the curtains open, a couch that did not bite, a young man in an oversized shirt trying to balance on the knife-edge of comfort and terror. Curly reached for the bread, the butter, the ordinary.

In the hallway, Daisuke let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been saving.

The words had slotted together badly in the spaces he couldn’t hear: can’t let him keep doing that, not under our roof, he’s not ours.

They clicked into place like a lock he was on the wrong side of.

You’re a problem, whispered the hard old voice that lived in his bones. You’re a mess someone has to mop up.

From the kitchen, Curly’s laugh lifted again, low and warm. Jimmy’s reply was a mutter, softened at the edges. A chair scraped. The kettle, thought better of, didn’t sing.

Daisuke took a silent step back, toe to heel, folded himself into the corner where the corridor met the stairs and sat very still, knees to his chin and head resting on them.

The ship’s hum pressed against his ears like static, like silence trying too hard. He tucked his chin down, breathing shallow to keep the ache in his ribs from blooming too wide.

The words kept replaying, jagged and wrong.

“We can’t let him keep doing that.”
“Not under our roof.”
“He’s not ours.”

He hadn’t heard the rest. Didn’t need to. The pieces had already arranged themselves into something sharp and certain.

He’s too much work.
He’s a burden.
He’s not theirs.

The shirt he wore—Curly’s—felt suddenly too big, too soft, too borrowed. Like wearing someone else’s kindness. He’d called Curly “Dad” the night before. Quietly. Like testing the weight of a word he hadn’t used in years. Curly had smiled, pulled him into a side hug, said, “That’s a good fit.”

It had felt like breathing for the first time in two years.

Now it felt like a mistake.

He pressed his forehead to his knees, trying to disappear into the fabric. His chest throbbed—not just from the bruises, but from the way hope had cracked open inside him and now threatened to rot. He’d let himself believe he belonged. That maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a guest in someone else’s life.

But guests overstayed. Guests made messes. Guests got sent away.

He thought of Curly’s voice—gentle, steady, the way it had said “no more bandages” like it was a promise, not a punishment. He thought of Jimmy’s face, unreadable and tired, and the way he’d said “He’s not ours” like it was a fact, not a wound.

Daisuke bit down hard on the inside of his cheek until the sting gave him something to hold onto. He didn’t cry. He didn’t move. He just sat there, folded small, trying to shrink the version of himself that had dared to believe he could be someone’s son.

The corridor lights dimmed to night mode. The Tulpar kept flying. And Daisuke stayed curled in the shadow, waiting for the ache to pass, knowing it wouldn’t.

The corridor lights dimmed to night mode, casting everything in a soft, bluish haze. Daisuke stayed curled in the corner, the metal wall cool against his back, the hum of the Tulpar vibrating faintly through his spine. It felt like the ship was trying to soothe him, but it didn’t know how.

He’d called Curly “Dad” last night.

It had slipped out in a moment of warmth—after Curly had helped him change into one of those oversized shirts, after he’d tucked the blanket around Daisuke’s shoulders without asking if he needed it. Daisuke had whispered it, barely audible, testing the shape of the word in his mouth like it might vanish if he said it too loud.

Curly had paused, then smiled. Not the kind of smile people give when they’re humoring you. The kind that says, I heard you. I’m here.

And now—now he was hearing something else. Something that felt like the opposite of that smile.

“He’s not ours.”
“We can’t let him stay like this.”
“We make it easier for him.”

Easier. Not better. Not safer. Just easier to manage.

He pressed his face deeper into the crook of his elbow, trying to disappear into the fabric. The shirt smelled like Curly—coffee and engine grease and something warm, like cedar. It made the ache worse.

He didn’t know what he’d done wrong. He’d tried to be good. Tried not to complain about the pain, even when it made him dizzy. Tried not to take up too much space. Tried to be useful, even when his body felt like it was turning against him.

He’d let himself believe he could belong here.

And now it felt like he’d misread everything. Like he’d taken a temporary kindness and mistaken it for permanence. Like he’d said “Dad” and Curly hadn’t corrected him—but maybe he should have.

Maybe he was just another project. Another stray someone had picked up and didn’t know how to put down.

The thought made his throat tighten. He bit the inside of his cheek again, harder this time, until the sting bloomed sharp and metallic. He didn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Crying felt like asking for something, and he wasn’t allowed to ask anymore.

He stayed there, folded small, trying to shrink the version of himself that had dared to hope.

And then—soft footsteps. Not rushed. Not heavy. Just deliberate enough to mean someone had noticed.

Daisuke didn’t move.

Curly’s voice was steady, but not casual. “Hey, kiddo.”

Daisuke didn’t look up. He couldn’t. If he did, he might unravel.

There was the soft sound of Curly settling down across from him, knees creaking, back against the opposite wall. Not too close. Not far. Just enough space for Daisuke to feel like he could breathe without being cornered.

“I didn’t know you were out here,” Curly said. “You okay?”

Daisuke’s fingers curled tighter around his knees. His voice came out hoarse. “I heard you.”

Daisuke shrank back into himself, pressing harder against the cool metal wall. His voice trembled when he spoke, low enough that only Curly could hear.

“Not under our roof,” Daisuke whispered, mimicking Jimmy’s words. He folded his arms tighter, as if he could hold himself together by force. “You said I couldn’t keep doing this… not under your roof.” The syllables tasted like ash.

Curly swallowed. “Jimmy meant he can’t watch you hurt yourself, not that—”

“Just like my parents,” Daisuke cut in, eyes squeezed shut. “They said I couldn’t be me at home. That I’d have to leave. You two—you don’t want me here being… being me….” His voice cracked on the last word, a tremor of old fear bleeding through. “I’m just a problem. A mistake you’re stuck with.”

Curly’s hand finally settled on Daisuke’s arm, gentle but firm. “Listen to me,” he said, voice soft but unwavering. “It isn’t like that. You know that. Jimmy and I—we want you safe. We want you here, exactly as you are.”

Daisuke pulled his arm free, head dropping so his hair hid his face. “But you said—”

“I said we can’t let you keep hurting yourself,” Curly countered, kneeling to meet Daisuke’s eye level. “I said you’re not technically ours, because we didn’t create you. But I want you as my son. Our son.” He paused, letting the words hang between them. “I want you under this roof. All of you.”

Daisuke’s breath hitched. He looked up, jaw trembling. Curly’s eyes were steady—no pity, just fierce care. The corridor hummed around them, a reminder that the Tulpar would carry on whether he stayed hidden or let himself be held.

Curly waited, hand extended. “I know it hurts to believe it,” he said. “But you’re safe here. I promise.”

Daisuke hesitated, torn between the echo of his old wounds and the warmth of Curly’s promise. The air crackled with everything unsaid. Finally, he reached out, fingertips brushing Curly’s palm—small, uncertain, but real. Curly closed the gap, pulling him into a hug that didn’t demand anything in return.

And for the first time, Daisuke let himself feel a fraction of the safety he’d been denying.

Daisuke’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of his borrowed shirt, knuckles pale. His voice was barely audible, but it cut like glass.

“Not under our roof,” he repeated, hollow. “That’s what Jimmy said.”

Curly didn’t speak right away. He didn’t rush to correct or soothe. He just let the words settle, let Daisuke hear the echo of them in his own head. Then, gently:

“He didn’t mean it like that.”

Daisuke shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. “That’s what my parents said. When I came out. When I asked for a binder and to cut my hair short. They said if I wanted to be like this, I couldn’t do it under their roof.”

Curly’s breath caught. “Daisuke…”

“I thought you were different,” Daisuke whispered, voice cracking. “I thought—I thought maybe I could be safe here. That maybe you wanted me.”

“I do,” Curly said, and the words came out fierce, like they’d been waiting in his chest for days. “I want you here. I want you exactly as you are.”

Daisuke flinched, like the words hurt more than silence. “Then why did Jimmy say that?”

“Because he’s scared,” Curly said. “Scared of watching you hurt yourself. Scared of not knowing how to help. He’s not good at saying things gently, but he’s trying.”

Daisuke looked up, eyes rimmed red. “You said I’m not yours.”

“I said you’re not technically mine,” Curly replied, voice steady. “But I want you to be. I want you to know that when you called me ‘Dad’ last night… it meant something. It still does.”

Daisuke’s breath hitched. He looked away again, jaw clenched. “I shouldn’t’ve said it.” Curly’s brow furrowed. He reached out to tilt Daisuke’s chin up, gentle but firm.

“No. Kid, look at me.”

Daisuke did, reluctantly, eyes glistening.

Curly sighed, trying to soften his voice. “I didn’t correct you because it didn’t need correcting. When you called me that—you had it right. I want to be your dad.”

“But you’re not,” Daisuke said, and the words came out like a plea, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Curly. “Not really. Legally. Not really. You don’t have to… pretend.” He muttered. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Daisuke looked away again but didn’t pull back. Not this time.

Curly exhaled, trying to slow down his thoughts.

“I may not be your father in a legal sense,” he said. “But I want to be. And Jimmy does too. And that’s real, Daisuke. We’ve told you that since you were brave enough to come to us in the first place.”

“And I am grateful for that.” Daisuke bit his lip. “It’s not that I’m—ungrateful. I just… it felt so good to call you that. I got used to the idea. It was stupid.”

Curly shook his head. “It wasn’t stupid. I told you we’d be your fathers, I told you you’d have a home with us and I mean it. When we get home, you can have your own room in our house Jimmy and I will have, you could have anything you want.“

Daisuke blinked back tears, a faint hope breaking through the fear. “Seriously? Anything?”

Curly huffed a laugh and ruffled Daisuke’s hair, feeling the weight in his heart easing a bit. “Of course. You have any idea how many rooms that house has? You could fill it with anything you want.”

Daisuke let himself relax into the touch a little more, almost against his will. His voice wavered, a mix of hope and hesitation. “Anything?” he echoed. Curly nodded, hand lingering on Daisuke’s shoulder. “Anything. A whole room just for your drawings. A garden on your balcony. An entire closet full of clothes that actually fit you.”

A half laugh, half sob escaped Daisuke’s lips, and his eyes dropped to his hands, still clenched tight around his own arms.

Curly exhaled, shifting so he could catch his eye again. “The only thing I wouldn’t give you is a binder.”

Daisuke’s head shot up. “What? Why?”

“Because why would you need a binder when you could get surgery?” Curly asked with a tilted head. Daisuke opened his mouth, then closed it again, speechless.

Curly watched his expression soften from confusion to cautious hope like he was seeing the first rays of sunrise.

Daisuke swallowed, throat dry. “You—you mean top surgery? You’d—you’d do that for me? That's—it’s really expensive.” Curly smiled, gentle but unyielding.

“Not for you, kiddo. I told you: if we're your fathers, we're going to look after you. And one of your fathers is a Captain of freighter ships for a big company." Daisuke felt a wave of emotions crash over him all at once—hope, uncertainty, gratitude. Nobody had ever offered him anything like that. A permanent father figure. Permanent parents that care. A home. A room of his own.

A body of his own. His way. In his mind. He swallowed, trying to find his voice again.

“You would spend money on me for that?” he asked. There was a hesitancy in his tone, like he was still half-expecting the offer to be a joke. Curly nodded, and there wasn't a hint of condescension in his tone. Just certainty.

"Yeah, for you, we would. We'd pay for everything. We'd make sure you got the best surgeon there is. We'd make sure you got the best damn result in the world."

Daisuke was quiet for a moment, still trying to absorb the idea that this man—that both these men—were offering him not just a place to stay, but a shot at being himself. "And…" Daisuke hesitated, a shadow of doubt clouding his eyes.

Curly raised an eyebrow, silently nudging him to go on. “Do you think I could start testosterone?”

Curly couldn't help a soft huff of laughter, half disbelief and half affection. He reached out a hand to squeeze Daisuke's shoulder.

"Of course, kid. If that's what you want."

A pause, while Daisuke absorbed that. His gaze was still on his knee, but his shoulders were less tense. Still, he sounded hesitant when he spoke again.
"You'd really be there, right? When I get top surgery and start T? You wouldn't—you wouldn't get tired of me?"

“Why would I get tired of the most amazing son in the world? And any education you want you can do. I know you left school to get this job.” Daisuke's throat bobbed, his eyes watery. He was fighting so hard to keep it together, to keep his walls in place. But it was like Curly could see through all the defenses he'd built to protect himself and reached straight into his soul. It was terrifying and amazing and he'd never felt safer.

The words came out in a strangled whisper. "Promise me."

“I promise. Now, you gonna come get some dinner and listen to Jimmy complain about the food?” He smiled.

Daisuke hesitated a moment, biting his lip, then finally managed a shaky nod.

He leaned forward, the tension flooding out of his body all at once, and flung his arms around Curly's neck. A second later, Curly hugged him back fiercely, holding him close as he felt Daisuke's body shake with a suppressed sob.

"I gotcha," he whispered, smoothing a hand over Daisuke's hair. "I gotcha, kiddo." They stayed like that for a long moment, in the quiet hum of the ship's engines and the faint glow of the night-mode lighting. When Daisuke finally pulled away, his eyes were a bit red, his voice still a bit shaky.

Curly smiled at him, ruffled his hair one last time. "Let's go. Bet Jimmy's wondering where we are." Daisuke nodded, wiping at his eyes with a sleeve with a small laugh. "I'm surprised he hasn't come looking for us."

Curly chuckled, pulling himself to his feet and reaching out a hand to pull Daisuke up. "Probably too busy trying to salvage the food," he said, and the warm, familiar banter felt like a blanket wrapping around them both.

As they headed toward the kitchen, curled together, all Daisuke could think was one thought:

Safety.