Work Text:
The buzz of the overhead lights drone overhead as Craig focuses on the task at hand. It’s long past midnight and the lab is quiet now, his only company is the crackling voice of the late night host emitting from the small transistor radio on the counter next to him. With nimble fingers, he carefully turns the sample over in his hand, admiring the branching patterns the bacteria colony has produced on the bed of soil. It’s sprouted tendrils are nothing short of beautiful, albeit still delicate in this stage. Craig is no stranger to all-nighters, and his aching back howls from sleeping on the uncomfortable break room couch this week. It would be nice to get a solid eight hours, but not when every new discovery from this sample has led him to more questions than answers. If he’s correct- the implications from its interactions with sulfur could change the course of the experiment completely, and get them closer to a breakthrough. It’s been a tough few months with the board breathing down the backs of their necks, and a new advance could get them another push in research funding, and perhaps time to let them catch their breath, and cash in on those accumulating vacation days.
Vacation. A welcome fantasy if not a far fetched one. Truthfully Craig isn’t even sure where he would go, and the most appealing idea might just be a week curled up on the couch watching old racing highlights with a beer. He lets his mind wander as he methodically places the sample back in the cooling tray and records the new metrics. The beach never appealed to him, and would traveling even be relaxing? He could always—
A sequence of forceful knocks and shouts break his concentration.
“Dude get the fuck OFF, you know me!! Come on, man,” whines from the other side of the door.
Ah. Perhaps he won’t be left in peace to finish his work tonight. Craig sighs and finishes his label, taking his sweet time while Kenny cries on the other side.
“DOC, please open the door, and tell this asshole to get his hands off—”
“Language. That’s no way to talk to your superior.” Craig rubs his eyes. “Let him in, Mars; I’ve got equipment for him to clean anyway.”
The heavy metal door swings open, and in stumbles Kenny, forcefully pushing himself from Mars’s strong grasp as Mars unceremoniously turns on his heel and leaves.
“Cleaning? I’ve literally got a Masters.” He huffs, eyes fixed on Craig with indigence.
Craig smirks, “Well aware. Do you want the work or not?”
Kenny rolls his eyes, and lets a small grin escape his lips, “Of course I do; any chance to be closer to you, Dear.”
“Just go clean the damn beakers, please. I’m being generous enough by letting you in.” Craig rolls up his sleeves and heads back to his work bench, ignoring Kenny’s dramatic bow.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The exhaustion settles back into Craig’s bones, the temporary adrenaline from the surprise commotion dwindling as he focuses his energy back on the spreadsheet in front of him. The blue glare from the computer washes over his face as he types, careful to record everything observed before the interruption. His brain churns over the numbers as he watches them steadily rise from where they began, an interesting development over the last few days. The chemical mixture might finally be on the right track, and if it is, then they are one step closer to the nutrient retention in their artificial soil significantly increasing.
Time passes in relative silence between the two. The sound of running water and clanging of metal and glass isn’t pleasant, but as far as disruptions and Kenny go, it’s relatively minor. Craig continues his data entry, noting a minor discrepancy in the work. He’s bound to run into errors eventually, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating when the answer is so close. Kenny hums in the background, and he’d be dead before he admitted it, but maybe having company is…nice, as long as they stay on the task at hand. Of course, this is too big of an ask with said company.
Craig notices that the water has stopped running, and groans when he hears Kenny’s footsteps come closer.
“I’m boredddd, Doctor Tucker. So very bored. It’s a tragedy wasting my genius on washing dishes. Insulting, even.” He sprawls his upper half over the counter next to Craig’s computer, turning his face to meet Craig’s exasperated gaze. Craig thinks the pose must hurt, those elbows are too pointy to rest comfortably on any hard surface, especially cold resin.
“Oh, now I’m Doctor Tucker, huh? Have I finally earned your respect?”
“Something like that.” Kenny says with a wink, “Maybe I’m just buttering you up so I can get into your pants- or at least get a real paycheck. This under the table stuff is making taxes kinda confusing.” He peels himself from the laminate, scrunching up his freckled face and reaching his arms high above his head in a stretch. Craig doesn’t miss the way his baggy sweatshirt rides up, exposing the tanned skin underneath. He’s skinny, too fucking skinny, but the sight of flesh only previously imagined stirs something deep in Craig’s gut. He doesn’t like where his mind wanders sometimes, to golden skin stretched out over an angular body, blond hair fanning out on Craig’s dark pillows. Listening to how his voice sounds when it’s whining and begging for release instead of challenging Craig’s every word. His mind taunts him even worse when instead of wanton desire, it’s slow kisses and soft touches floating through his imagination. That seems most unfair of all. And so as soon as the thought enters his mind, he forcefully shoves it out. Kenny’s a looker, there’s no use denying it, but relishing in it would be even more stupid. Nothing good has ever come from hooking up with a coworker, especially one fresh out of grad school, even if he doesn’t even actually work for you in the first place. Kenny catches him looking and smirks, like a cat with a fucking mouse, Craig thinks, feeling his neck grow hot.
“Looks like you’re not immune to all my charms then, huh Doctor?” He coos, before yanking the sweatshirt down. “Just wait until you see the rest,” Kenny says, tossing a grin before leaning over to peek at Craig’s computer.
Craig grimaces. “Please don’t fucking touch anything. I don’t know where your hands have been, and I really don’t need those pathogens contaminating my work.”
Kenny’s eyes graze over the spreadsheet, “Mine? They’re squeaky clean baby,” but his heart isn’t in the quip, distracted. Instead he’s scrolling through the data, absorbing all the new information and turning it over in his head. Craig watches his eyes track every line, and surprisingly finds himself feeling self conscious— gun to his head, Kenny is smart, but Craig is an expert, right?
“You’re missing something.” Kenny says, mostly to himself it sounds like.
As if it’s not enough to hear echoing in his head all day, now Craig has to deal with the brat telling him the work is wrong.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t need to be reminded of my failures from you of all people.”
Kenny laughs, “I know you treat me like one, but I’m not an idiot, okay? Besides, it’s not a failure, you’re close. I don’t know what the hell you’re missing, but you’re close.” It’s shockingly genuine, and if Craig wanted to be delusional, he would swear there was almost a hint of admiration. Kenny looks back at him, taking his eyes off the computer screen. “You’re like…really changing the world out here, Frankenstein.” Craig feels his temperature rise and embarrassment flood his body. He’s not changing the world, he’s helping one massive company make changes to some fucking dirt. It’s not like they’re landing people on other planets or establishing world peace.
“Ugh, relax Ken. You sound desperate. It’s just dirt. I’m just here to make sure the investors get their money back.” Craig mumbles, turning his eyes downcast.
Any moment of sincerity flies out the door as soon as the words leave his mouth, because Kenny pretends to swoon, placing the back of his hand to his forehead akin to an antiquated stereotype of a Southern Belle.
“Saying my name again, Doctor Tucker? Goodness gracious, I must be the luckiest girl in the world! I’ll have to save you a dance at the debutante ball!” He says through laughs, and collapses into Craig in a dramatic sweep. As much as Craig wants to shove him to the floor, he finds himself laughing as well, only holding his balance by gripping the countertop. It’s the exhaustion getting to him. Surely. Kenny’s laughs begin to subside, but he hasn’t left Craig’s side, and maybe Craig is too tired to tell him to fuck off this time. This might be the warmest he’s felt since he stepped into this frigid, temperature controlled lab all those years ago. He feels Kenny shift slightly, unconfident in his movement, but closer into his space still. Craig doesn’t dare move.
“Hey. I know that you’re—” Kenny begins before he is cut off by a loud “BRRRRIIINGG!!”
“FUCK!” Kenny yelps, hastily reaching his hand into his hoodie pocket to find his phone, and shut off the intense wail of the alarm. Whatever he was going to say is clearly no longer of importance, as he looks to Craig with a grin.
“You know what time it is, right?” Kenny says, voice lilted with excitement.
Craig doesn’t. Somewhere around three in the morning maybe? Tuesday? It’s easy to lose track.
“I- uh. No. I don’t.” Is he supposed to? Or is this another one of Kenny’s nonsense games with made up rules?
“Time to see Tsuchinshan-ATLAS enter orbit. Brightest comet of the last decade, but I’m sure you knew that already.” He says with a wink. “You have rooftop access, right? I ripped my jeans scaling the building last time, and i’m down to like, two pairs.” Kenny locks in on his phone, “We have about ten minutes to get up there.”
Craig feels like an idiot. Not because he had forgotten about the comet, but rather because he hadn’t even known that it was going to be in view. He remembers being a child, staying up past his bedtime to sneak out into the backyard, bundled up in his comforter to track the astral bodies as they hurled their way through the stars. Now he doesn’t even look up when he takes out the trash at night. Some fucking spaceman. He does have roof access though, and it’s both a safety and security risk to not escort Kenny up there, because if Craig has learned anything, it’s that when Kenny wants something, he’s going to have it. Besides, he’s been in the lab since this morning, his legs are sore, and maybe some fresh air will clear his mind. He scoops his keys from the counter top. “Let's go.”
Craig leads the way through the halls, their sickly mint green color illuminated by the fluorescents above. Their footsteps echo through the facility, and spare the security guards- it’s likely that they are the only ones there. Craig isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. Kenny blabbers on in the background about the comet, about the potential mineral makeup, the orbit, about how it may wind up completely ejected from our solar system millions of years from now. Craig listens, but he hides his smile- can’t give the brat the satisfaction. It’s nice though, he thinks as they exit the fifth floor elevator doors, maybe he forgot how exciting it is to fully embrace passion instead of making yourself numb to it. The twists and turns of the halls continue, and Craig doesn’t interrupt once. The door to the storage room creaks open, rusty from lack of use. Dust covers old boxes with near illegible labels, and shelves filled with mysterious liquids loom in the dark.
“Did you just bring me here to murder me?” Kenny whispers, eyes darting to a tray of metal tools.
“Wouldn’t that be fun? But no. This is where the ladder to the roof is. No one ever really uses it, so they wound up filling the place with unused junk.” Craig flicks on a light, and pulls the long chain of the insulated ceiling hatch. A metal ladder unfolds and extends, rusted but functional nevertheless. Craig places on foot on the bottom rung and gives a slight bounce, it’s sturdy enough, he supposes. Slowly, he begins the ascent; he looks back to Kenny.
“You coming?”
Kenny laughs, “Hell yeah, after I make sure you don’t fall and break your neck on this death trap.”
Craig ignores his quip, and continues his climb. When he reaches the top he is greeted with the chilly night air, one security light flickers but it’s no comparison to the bright light shed by the full moon. He exits, stands still, and listens. The breeze is subtle, enough to make the leaves shake and whirl on the rooftop. A dog barks in the distance, and the metal ladder creaks with Kenny’s footsteps. It’s a perfect October night. Kenny appears shortly after, and for once he doesn’t ruin the silence. Rather, he pads over quiet as a cat, and joins Craig at his side, careful not to ruin the delicate equilibrium of the forces that led them there.
Finally Kenny speaks, his tone however is hushed.
“It should be appearing within the next three minutes. To the north.” He pulls out the compass on his phone to confirm the direction they’re facing before shoving his cold hands back into his hoodie pocket. When he steps closer to Craig for the body heat, Craig pretends not to notice. Maybe he even leans in a little, that windchill is pretty bitter. The minutes tick by in near silence, and the anticipation makes it a little awkward. He can tell Kenny feels it too, the way he shifts his weight and darts his eyes around the northern portion of the sky.
Then, quietly as a ship appearing on the horizon, she makes her debut into the night sky. A sharp elbow digs into Craig’s side and Kenny’s hand points to the glowing ember in the inky vastness above. Craig barely even notices the jab- his can’t take his eyes off the little celestial body now fully realized in the stars. Comets aren’t like meteors, and Tsuchinshan-ATLAS will be visible for a few weeks. There isn’t any dramatic whizzing or fiery ball illuminating the night like in movies, she’s infinitely more elegant than that. A ballerina on point across the stage, a bride making her way down the aisle. A different kind of man may have even cried. Instead he lets the silence breathe around him, awe drowning out the barking dog and the cars on the freeway. The minutes tick by, and as far as Craig is concerned, it’s just him and the interplanetary ice ball in the sky.
And Kenny.
To Kenny’s credit, he’s been silent for once in his life. Maybe all hope isn’t lost on him. Craig can feel Kenny begin to shiver next to him, and he realizes he’s been observing the comet much longer than he imagined, his perception of time melting under the long golden tail arching through Libra.
Craig finally speaks, “It’s cold” is all he can manage.
“Twenty one degrees, nineteen with windchill.” Kenny whispers.
“We should probably go in.” Craig finally looks over at the man next to him, Kenny’s thin arms huddled around his waist to preserve heat. Their shoulders remain touching.
“I’ll stay out here with you as long as you like, Doc.”, Kenny smiles and locks his eyes on Craig, his breathe visible in the air when he speaks. Craig wants to throw himself off the roof, surely that would be less painful and embarrassing than acknowledging the flip in his gut. He’s an intern. Sure he’s not an official one, but it still goes against everything in the human resources training manuals and orientation week information videos. Craig is supposed to be a mentor, an educator; he’s not supposed to be thinking about how easy it would be to press Kenny against the rooftop railing and kiss him under this once-in-a-lifetime comet. He absolutely shouldn’t be picturing how Kenny’s cold-flushed cheeks would redden further, and how his frozen lips would open up to a fevered mouth. About how those thin and icy hands could make their way under layers of fabric and into much warmer places.
But he’s selfish. Always has been. Which is why he doesn’t immediately pull away or politely decline when Kenny closes the distance between them. Despite Kenny’s usual bravado, it’s not a particularly confident kiss at first. It’s tentative; sweet even. It’s actually very…un-Kenny like behavior. He must be just as unsure about the ethics of this whole situation. Unfortunately, Craig is a monster, a terrible, manipulative, sleazy monster that wants nothing more than to take advantage of every second of this pretty blond’s lips on his. As the kiss deepens, he realizes that he can’t even remember the last time he’s kissed someone with this much heat. Kenny’s confidence has returned with a vengeance, desperate to show that he’s not some blushing flower that makes a move without the conviction to back it up; he can even feel a smirk fighting suppression against his mouth if he concentrates. There’s much more interesting things to concentrate on though, like pushing Kenny back against the parapet and slotting a knee between his legs, earning an intensely gratifying moan from his intern.
His intern, fuck there it is again. A disgusting wave of guilt crashing through his more rational synapses. Almost on cue, distraction again comes as a whine from Kenny, as his hands begin to wander underneath the back of Craig’s jacket, pulling their bodies together in a desperate bid for more friction. He can feel Kenny’s growing erection grinding against his thigh now, and it’s even better than his bedtime fantasies. He must have run variations of this state of affairs through his head hundreds of times by now, but nothing could even close to the real thing. He could have never accurately conceptualized Kenny’s glassy eyes and breathless panting when he demands air, the way his flaxen hair feels under the grip of Craig’s frozen fingers. Kenny’s hand moves from his lower back, around his waist to the front of his jeans, he fumbles with his belt before snaking his hand down Craig’s jeans, and it’s all too much to fast. Craig shoves him away, pushing them apart with more force than he intended.
He stands there in the freezing night, holding his jeans up like an idiot with a raging hard on. He’s able to mumble out a humiliating “I’m so sorry” before adjusting his dick and fixing his belt.
“Wait what?” Kenny rushes out. “Why are you apologizing?” The confusion in his voice just makes him feel even worse. His wide eyes boring holes right through Craig’s as he stands there like a deer in the headlights.
“For whatever the hell that was. You’re my fucking intern Kenny. I’m supposed to help you, not take advantage of you and get into your pants!” He can barely get the words out without his voice breaking. A six story fall would kill him instantly if he went head first right?
Kenny’s eyebrows knit together, and the confused look on his face guts Craig like a knife. “Weren’t we like…having a moment? I don’t get it. I don’t have to jerk you off or anything, we can just kiss.” Kenny says quietly; Craig casts his eyes to the concrete ground so he doesn’t have to meet Kenny’s gaze. “I’m crazy about you.” Kenny says, unable to conceal the smile in his voice.
Craig squeezes his eyes shut. He’s really fucked up. He’s been incapable of setting boundaries and now he’s just another pervert that’s taken advantage of a power dynamic. He might as well have fucked his secretary. He hasn’t dated much since Tweek, a few hook-ups here and there, some flings that lasted a couple of months, but no one has really gotten close.
However, Kenny’s been a constant. A thorn in his side that slowly wormed it’s way through his system, and found it’s way to his vital organs. A better man would have shut it down on the first instance of flirtation, but he’s been so fucking lonely the last few years, and Kenny’s just so damn warm. Yeah he’s annoying, he’s never on time, and steals way too many snacks from the break room, but he’s smart, he’s a relentless problem solver, and he’s got more passion than anyone he’s ever met. To pretend Kenny is anything other than a blessing these days would be a lie. Frankly, with how the board has been breathing down his neck in the recent months, he probably would have lost his mind weeks ago if it wasn’t for the steady companionship. And yes, Kenny is gorgeous, but that’s not enough to keep Craig from calling security every time he intrudes, although it certainly doesn’t hurt (he’s just a man, after all). It’s affection. The acceptance of the fact that Kenny’s company is something he really doesn’t want to lose.
Kenny speaks up. “I can be patient, you know. I don’t do a great job of showing that in the lab, but I like you. I can take things slow.” He’s so gentle it hurts, empathetic beyond his years. “You’re not taking advantage of me, Craig, I’m twenty four. I know what I want.” He makes his way closer again, “We’ll have rules, I’m not trying to ruin your life. I just think it’d be a shame not to give it a shot, right?” He sounds so hopeful; Craig’s chest hurts. He looks up at the comet again.
Craig’s not a risk taker. Never has been. Sure he likes race cars and rockets, but usually enjoyed through a screen or a safe distance. He drives the speed limit, and the last rocket he built was in elementary school out of a soda bottle. He likes things safe. Boring even. But maybe in his thirty three years, he’s earned a little recklessness, one divine leap of faith in a life otherwise played by the rules. The comet sits in the sky; she’ll be visible for a few more weeks. It’s not a bright brilliant blink-and-you-miss-it meteor hurtling into earth and leaving a gaping crater. It’s a returning visitor. A lifetime between visits, but never-the-less, she’ll return. And while she’s here, she takes her time in her journey across the stars.
He turns to face Kenny. “Have you eaten?”
Kenny grins. “I stole a few of your granola bars from the break room, but I haven’t had like…real food if that’s what you mean.”
Craig sighs. “There’s a twenty four hour diner down the road. Go close up the lab. Meet me by my car when you’re done. My treat.”
“Sir yes sir.” Kenny says with a sarcastic little salute and a smile. “See you soon, Doctor Tucker.”
“Craig is fine, Ken. We’re off the clock.”
Kenny stops in his tracks, and beams. Even amongst the full moon, comet, and flickering old security lamp, he’s the brightest thing in the night as far as Craig’s concerned. Sure, they’ve got time, but suddenly dinner really can’t wait any longer.