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[youwereameteor]

The camping trip had been Reid's idea - in the days after wherever the fuck he'd been with Bones and the others, Jim had a hard time focusing, a hard time coming back and his husband had suggested a trip to the other side of the island, something to clear his head. They'd ended up camped on a stretch of deserted beach, the tent pitched, a blanket

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[percevalian]

From inside the tent there comes a great deal of rustling and some quiet cursing before Reid comes stumbling out, still trying to shake his foot free from sleeping bag straps. After nearly falling over, he finally pulls himself free and strides over to Jim with a slightly evasive expression.

"Not one word," he warns as he plunks himself down onto the blanket.

[youwereameteor]

To his credit, Jim maintains silence for a long moment before he reaches out, curling his fingers around Reid's knee and gives it a quick, warm squeeze. He raises both eyebrows.

"Do I even want to know?"

[percevalian]

"I took care of it," Reid swiftly answers and wiggles further down the blanket so he can lay back with a low oof. For a moment he simply lies like that, hair fanned out around his head, eyes wide as he gazes up at the sky.

"I find it disorienting that the constellations here make no sense," he admits, shifting until his hip is butted up against Jim's.

[youwereameteor]

"The further you go, the more different they get," he says, only half aware of how wistful he sounds, right then. He shifts to curl one arm so that he can play with Reid's hair, sifting long strands between his fingers as they both look up, touching all along their sides.

"They only look this way because we're grounded."

[percevalian]

Obviously Reid knows this, given that it's fundamental astronomy, but he actually manages to keep his mouth shut on that count. "I just meant that they're Earth constellations, but they're out of place," he clarifies instead, turning his head to peer at Jim beside him in the darkness. "Ordinarily, you could pinpoint where on Earth we are by the constellations. It's like someone threw the stars up there all haphazard, because they knew we expected stars but didn't really consider that they have an order they should be in."

[youwereameteor]

"Maybe we're a million miles away from anywhere we've ever been before," says Jim, his expression distant, only peripherally aware that Spencer's watching him at all.

"So far away that their different stars altogether."

His lips purse.

"I used to have a hard time picturing all of that distance."

[percevalian]

"That's not what I mean," Reid counters with a shake of his head, literal-minded and motivated. "Look," he begins again, lifting a long, skinny arm to point at the sky. "That's Canus Minor, and over there is Antlia, and there is Pegasus. They look just like they would from Earth, but they'd never be visible at the same time, and they're in the wrong place in the sky. Yet it's unmistakable." Reid was not raised with a belief in a higher power, but he can't help feeling like someone is trying to put one over on them, here.

[youwereameteor]

"It's not like it matters," says Jim, feeling the tug of something that he shoves down as hard as he can when he's at home, when he's around this man that he loves unreservedly. It's a feeling of separation that he doubts that he'll ever be able to shake.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe someone just put them there because we expected them. But they're there and they're never going to get any closer, so does it really matter if they're right?"

[percevalian]

Too late Reid realizes his misstep, falling conspicuously silent as he drops his gaze from the sky and swallows hard. He'd known this was coming, of course; you didn't have to be an expert on human behavior to intuit that Captain Kirk could only be grounded for so long before getting restless. If anything, it's overdue, but that doesn't make it any easier to come to terms with with Reid already struggles with abandonment issues.

"Maybe you'll get back there someday," he softly suggests, almost meek, knowing that the possibility of Jim going back home only allows for him to return alone.

[youwereameteor]

Which isn't something that he wants to think about, right now; yes, there's a chance that he could one day walk through a door and end up on the Enterprise again, but then there'd be a loss of a different kind to measure, and he is not ready to consider that. He rolls, instead, reaches out and pulls Reid into a brief, warm kiss.

"I'm fine here," he says.
And, in some ways, that's true.

[percevalian]

"Don't lie to me," Reid quietly replies into the warm space between them, his wide, concerned eyes fixed on Jim's face. "You don't have to pretend that things are okay when they aren't, Jim. I know it's not me." Not that knowing as much helps assuage his fears. Jim can be fickle; the whole world knows this.

[youwereameteor]

"Right here, I'm fine," says Jim, reaching up to cup the side of Reid's face, stroking his fingers against his skin. Before he met Reid, he was never really in love with anybody - he was never expecting it to be this thorough.

"Sometimes, you're the only thing that makes it okay."

[percevalian]

Which begs the question of what Jim would do should anything happen to Reid, but one of them being paranoid is more than enough, so Reid bites his tongue.

"I love you," he says instead, earnestly, brow knit in concern. "And I'm worried about you, Jim. I'm your husband and I know you depend on me, but I shouldn't be the only thing that makes it okay. You're never going to get past this if you don't let go and give yourself permission to have a life here."

[youwereameteor]

"I said sometimes," says Jim, eyes fixed on Reid's face. He shifts his hand, combing his hair back behind his ear, just for the joy of touching him. It's a little rush; enough of a hit to get him through.

"I fucking love you," he says, and then he kisses Reid, because he hasn't quite worked out how to say I'm figuring it out.

[percevalian]

Frustrating though it can be, by now Reid understands well enough that Jim communicates by touch much more efficiently than he does verbally. In a moment like this one, when he's undoubtedly feeling more than a little adrift and discouraged, surely it's practically compulsive, that need to put his hands on Reid. And so Reid does the only thing he knows to do, and goes with it.

"I know," he breathes into the humid air between them, one hand tugging Jim forward by the bicep, the other at the back of his neck. "I want to make this better for you."

[youwereameteor]

"You do make this better for me," says Jim, leaning forward, their mouths just grazing together again. Sometimes, he tries to hold himself back from Reid, just to see what will happen, but he never lasts very long. "And I'm figuring the rest out. I will figure the rest out."