Chapter Text
Juno's head dropped onto Ransom's shoulder sometime during act two of Pirates Love-Fight Pirates. At first, Ransom thought Juno was just practicing casual physical intimacy like they'd talked about—and he was excited. But then he saw that Juno had fallen asleep—and a host of warm emotions seized Ransom so strongly that, unbidden, he forgot his surroundings utterly.
It was dangerous for a thief to block out the world. Peter Nureyev was supposed to rely on his senses before anything else. If he didn't have those, then... then...
Well, that was something he should probably think about, anyway, but wouldn't—not right now. It was difficult, sometimes, to regard anything else as important when Juno Steel was doing something lovely. And Nureyev couldn't fault himself for being overcome by something stronger than he.
Nureyev's fingers brushed against the soft skin exposed by the hiked hem of Juno's shirt, fingertips grazing slow arcs up and down the top of his hipbone, and if he could have reached Juno's forehead to kiss it without straining their position, he would have. As such, he settled for just enjoying this little surprise. Between the two of them, Juno usually fell asleep last and woke up first. Nureyev didn't often get to see him like this, the lines on his face smoothed, the perpetual pinch in his lips finally relaxed. Peaceful looked nice on Juno Steel.
It wasn't until Nureyev heard the... breathing?... that Ransom's survival instincts kicked in. He felt the mask shift back into place like an automatic shutter. When he looked, there was Rita, cross-legged in a nest of pillows on the floor, staring up at her boss and his lover with wide, gleeful eyes. She was making a little hum-wheeze in the back of her throat with every breath, apparently enraptured by their closeness.
Ransom pointed to a blanket in her nest and mouthed, Pass me that?
Her giggle built like a wave, from barely-there to boisterous. She was clearly all too happy to offer her assistance. The blanket she chose was blue and fuzzy-warm and only partly marred by salmon dust fingerprints; Ransom was just able to spread it over Juno's sleeping form without disturbing him. On the contrary, the criminally-exhausted criminal detective cuddled in closer, lips parting slightly as his face pushed into Ransom's shoulder. The epitome of vulnerable. Ransom held his breath to make up for all the squirming, as well as for... previously-stated reasons.
He knew that he was still staring, but could not help himself.
Oh, Juno.
It was the only thought of any value that he had for the rest of the crew's watch night, but, over the span of that hour, he had it from just about every angle he could.
After the stream ended, the family dispersed—well, half of it anyway. The Cerberus Province trio went off to their rooms, while the Hyperion City three remained behind (Juno by default, Ransom by trapping, and Rita by volition).
"Can I take a picture?" she asked, bouncing on her knees. "Please oh please oh please? Because to tell ya the truth I'm still not used to seeing Mista Steel like this, and it's just so SWEE—"
"Shhh shh!"
"Oh, right," Rita whispered, hands flying up over her mouth (but stopping an inch or so from actually covering it, Ransom noticed with a hint of fondness). "Sorry! But is that alright?"
"Certainly," said Ransom, chuckling. "So long as you don't get my face in any of them, of course."
Rita's face fell. "Ohhh, Mista Ransom! Not even one?"
Ransom shook his head sympathetically. "Afraid not."
"Well, alright, if that's what you're comfortable with." She was only disappointed for a moment. The exceptional glee returned the moment she snapped her first picture, and only grew as she shamelessly clicked off several more. When she was finished, rather than leaving, she sat back on her heels.
"Mista Ransom," she began, looking from Ransom to Juno and back again. "You know I ain't never seen Mista Steel this happy before, right? Like, ever?"
If he were awake, this would have been the part where Juno said something mildly deflective or pretended it was all no big deal (while blushing profusely, of course). Ransom just smiled.
"So I just wanted to say," she went on, "ya know... if you hurt him, I destroy you, yada yada, whatever! I hate that part! It's so tacky. Ugh. But! Even tacky, it is a one hundred percent Rita guarantee!" She went from sweet to plucky to threatening at the speed which only Rita could travel. Despite himself, Ransom laughed again, and the snug Juno draped against his side drowsily mumbled something and shifted a little. He seemed not to wake, though.
"To tell you the truth, Rita," Ransom said softly, and maybe she knew the magnitude of that offer or maybe she didn't, "Juno makes me very, very happy, as well."
(Nevermind who had hurt whom last time... but the complexities of that situation were a bit more than he cared to explain.)
"Now, if you'll excuse us—" Ransom moved smoothly, as light on his feet as all his thieving experience would allow, and scooped Juno into his arms— "I can name at least one pretty lady who needs to get tucked into bed."
The excited bouncing returned full-force. "AWWW!"
"Shh!" he reminded her, though he had anticipated her reaction and was already halfway out the door. Either it was the right call, or Juno was truly too exhausted to be disturbed by anything at the moment.
Ransom couldn't help pausing his retreat at the last second, though. He checked over his shoulder to see their expert hacker twiddling away at her comms, no doubt storing her precious cargo somewhere safe. She looked up when she noticed him lingering.
"Do me a favor, Rita?"
"Anything, Mista Ransom! Waddaya need?"
Ransom's grin was cutting. "Don't let Juno forget this."