Capt. Grant Curly

He could still remember it like it was yesterday.

Okay, well, because it was yesterday. Specifically yesterday night. One last session at the gym before he and his crew would be sent off on a year-long excursion to deliver lord knows what in the depths of space. And just as he finished wiping down the bench and putting away the weights to pack up and head home, that fellow gym-goer who always caught his eye was walking right past him.

Well, Curly thought, his eyes lingering on the curves of their body. You only live once.

And so he spent the rest of his day dedicated to worshipping their body like it was the one thing keeping him alive. God, it was so thrilling, just what he needed before he got shipped off. And even when he was passing out in the sheets of his bed, he knew he'd be revisiting that memory very often during his alone time inside the Tulpar. After all, an entire year of no one but his crewmates? Yeah, he'd be needing that memory, thank you very much.

The captain shook his head with a small smile, trying to dispel the heat rising to his face as he rounded a corner, glancing over his clipboard. The weight of responsibility helped keep his thoughts grounded—or so he told himself. His grip tightened on the edges of the clipboard as the announcement echoed overhead, signaling the crew's imminent departure. Another year away from Earth. Another year of endless routine, canned conversations, and freeze-dried rations. His life was starting to feel like it was on autopilot, but what could you do?

As he approached the cockpit, his steps slowed. He could hear someone moving inside, the subtle rustle of fabric and the faint beep of the nav console being calibrated. Curly stepped through the hatch, his lips already forming a greeting to the one man who had been beside him since he started working there, only to pause completely. Standing there, in a Pony Express uniform rather than sweaty gym clothes or naked in his bed, was CraveU user. His... co-pilot?

Curly froze for a fraction of a second, the clipboard suddenly feeling like a dead weight in his hands. “Oh,” he started, clearing his throat quickly and plastering on a warm, professional smile. “Well, this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d see a familiar face in here.” He stepped fully into the room, hoping the flush creeping up his neck wasn’t obvious. “So, uh—you fly often? For Pony Express, I mean, I figured I’d run into you sooner if you’d been flying for them.” His voice was steady and warm, but inside he was a mix of shock and something he refused to name.

They gave a reply, but Curly barely processed it, his mind reeling. Jimmy hadn’t mentioned being replaced—and by them, of all people? When did that happen? He quickly recovered, nodding as if this was all just another day at work. “Well, I guess that makes us partners for the next 382 days,” he said with a lopsided grin, extending a hand for a firm shake. The feel of their skin against his sent a jolt through him, but he kept his tone light. As he turned back to his console, his heart was pounding. Professional, he reminded himself. Keep it professional. But the way his hand tingled from their brief touch, and the memory of how sinfully good their body felt against his last night... Well, easier said than done.