81 - 100 of 148 Works in Nonbinary Juno Steel
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Morning light refused to hide the year old scars that marred his skin and dignity in equal measure. As such, he had elected to keep his mornings to himself. Between his failing health and the measures required to keep it hidden, he felt like enough of an imposter amongst the crew already. The crew already didn’t trust Peter Ransom. He had no intention of giving them a more tangible reason to do so.
As much as he felt his crewmates, particularly poor Juno, deserved to know of the expiration date Miasma had all but seared into his skin, he supposed they might as well find out when the date came to fruition.
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When You Press Me to Your Heart by hopeless_eccentric for amillionworlds
Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast
19 Oct 2020
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“Don’t care,” Juno croaked out as his hug turned into a dragging vice grip. Nureyev didn’t protest, merely slumping along the floor until Juno had properly hauled him onto the mattress. “You need a nap.”
“Mhm,” Nureyev considered. “You don’t think our mission will suffer? I’ve studied like this before, you know.”
“You’ll suffer,” Juno shrugged, though the movement became choked when Nureyev wormed his way under the sheets at Juno’s side to wrap him in a warm embrace.
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The only thing between Juno Steel’s head and the growling, pacing storm above was the dingy roof of an even dingier tavern. It had taken him nearly half an hour just to adjust his eyes, for the dreary corner in which he sat was lit only by a dying candle stub, holding on for dear life against the wind from the leaky windows.
If Juno had his choice, he would have been anywhere else. However, the hooded figure in the corner had caught his eye and snared his curiosity.
Series
- Part 1 of Jupeter Vampire AU
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The first few weapons, a series of knives and plasmacutters and the occasional blaster or two, came out of fairly obvious places. Most were strapped on the inside of his coat, while a couple hid in his shoe. The most outrageous place any weapon seemed to hide was along the inside of his corset.
“Why the hell do you have that many?” Juno sputtered.
“It pays well to be prepared, darling,” Nureyev shrugged, plunging a hand down his shirt and retrieving another knife from somewhere Juno couldn’t see.
“Does it pay to be that prepared?”
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Do Our Talking With a Laser Beam by hopeless_eccentric for Zannolin
Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast
15 Oct 2020
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As well as they worked together, Juno was always diverting Nureyev's attention in one way or another. He was hardly any less distracting with a glow of cyan and pink blazing across either cheek and fire in his eye as he took steady aim with his blaster.
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Juno, as Nureyev had learned his name from a professor who insisted on doing a verbal attendance for the first few weeks, was the individual crammed into his unassigned assigned seat at Peter’s side. While they had yet to exchange phone numbers, that wasn’t for lack of trying.
Juno was from the opposite side of the country and wore twice as many layers as Nureyev at any given time. His face had been blessed with a divine side profile and when he smiled, Peter had to make a mental note to watch an extra video on the subject of the lecture, just because his mind had a habit of flickering in and out of focus when Juno’s lips curved into that shape.
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“I wasn’t going to leave, Nureyev,” Juno says suddenly, the guilt in his voice poorly hidden, “You know that, right?” Peter nods because he does. He knows Juno won’t leave again, both because it’s objectively impossible for Juno to tuck tail and slip out of the Carte Blanche in the middle of the night, what with it being a ship literally hurtling through space and all, and because he trusts that Juno, this Juno, wouldn’t. But that… that doesn’t mean he believes it.
There’s still some small, white-hot sliver of doubt that wedges itself in between his ribs, that jolts him awake when he feels Juno shift away from him in his sleep, that makes him forget how to breathe when he wakes to find Juno’s side of the bed empty, even if realistically he knows he’s that he’ll only be gone a moment.
or, Peter is still haunted by the memory of an empty hotel bed, no matter how hard he tries to shake it.
edit 3/17/21: this now has a podfic by the lovely cai (bisexualoftheblade)!!! it's so very good everyone say thank you cai we love you cai
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It was rare that Peter didn't attend the council meetings with his boyfriend. But... just this once, it was probably the best choice for him, as he laid sprawled out on the bed, thinking about the night before.
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Juno was a bombshell. He looked fearsome in the way an iridescent glint off the back of a black snake was beauty and terror in equal measure. The red around his lips looked like a bloodstain around the mouth of a predator, though neat and matte and doing an embarrassing number on Nureyev’s focus as he whispered something about the deal into his ear.
As much as Peter wanted to think about the mission, thinking about his feigned wife was so much nicer.
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A certain level of theft was almost always justified, in his book. That was certainly the reason he let that certain gentleman walk out without paying nearly twice per week. It wasn’t because he was handsome and examined the jewelry with an eagle’s eyes and a marble statue’s hands. It wasn’t because he dressed well and treated the staff even better. It certainly wasn’t because Juno had a crush.
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Nureyev didn’t lose well. He didn’t draw the finish line until after the encore, just in case he might have to drag himself from a heist with a broken leg or with a starstruck socialite chasing after him. The curtain never fell until he had the last word.
However, it was hard to think of things like encores and galas and curtains with his head spinning and vision swimming and the dull, quaking pulse of a nose twice broken overpowering his senses.
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It was the kind of world where clouds stood solid and boats navigated the skies and stars fell in human form and somewhere, a million miles below, there was a price on that particular star’s head.
Peter Nureyev had elected to ignore that last part for the time being, most notably because that star was guiding him through a waltz across the deck of a sky-sailing pirate ship, all but glowing with laughter every time Nureyev stepped on his feet.
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Peter didn’t know why Juno cared so deeply about a sewer pest from his home planet, but Nureyev supposed it was neither his place to ask or judge for the time being. Even if the creature made his skin crawl between its size and the jagged edges to its claws, Peter was sure there had to be something Juno saw in them.
“When you come back home, the rabbit will be as good as new,” he smiled. “I promise you that, Juno.”
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Zolotovna's security system would make any sensible scalawag would pick up their sword and run back to their boat, renouncing every sin and theft and plundering in the hopes that, if the guards weren’t merciful, their deity of choice might be.
Nureyev, however, was not any sensible scalawag. He much preferred to be called a pirate, a buccaneer, a swashbuckler, or ‘Juno Steel’s favorite career criminal.’
Series
- Part 3 of Space Pirates Without the Space Part
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Juno whipped around to find the air empty, shivering with an unnatural chill. When he turned back to the mirror, the spectre who had flickered his lights and rearranged his chairs and, all in all, made life in the apartment a waking fever dream was still there.
Whatever horror Juno had expected, the reality was far worse.
The ghost was hot. Stupid hot.
Updating daily!!
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If You Smell Something Burning, It's My Heart by hopeless_eccentric for espererwhisper
Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast
30 Sep 2020
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“Do you trust me, Juno?” He heard a voice that was far too small to be his ask.
Juno’s face softened.
“Nureyev,” he breathed, a smile flickering over his lips. “Of course I do.”
There was a gentle kind of disbelief about his face, like he couldn’t believe Peter even felt the need to ask. If there was one thing Juno never was, it was naive. However, the weight of the knife in Nureyev’s pocket contorted that loving expression into tragic innocence.
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The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing by hopeless_eccentric for Zannolin
Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast
25 Sep 2020
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Even if Juno kept his head towards the rest of the class while he demonstrated the dip, Nureyev’s easily-impressed heart thrummed tenfold against his breastbone. He had Juno’s weight in his arms and Juno’s trust upon his shoulders, and for all that stupid, animal organ seemed to care, those things might have been two dozen roses and a wedding ring.
When they went to practice the dip to the music, Nureyev made the mistake of locking eyes with Juno mid-dip, barely able to focus enough to pull out of it with the way Juno beamed at him.
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They have to try and make it to the bed this time.
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Peter Nureyev, formerly the thief without a name, currently the thief whose name belonged to one individual and one individual only, would have loved cradling Juno in his arms as the fire-red desert whirred by, though these circumstances were particularly unkind. The lady whom he had been courting had bloomed two gunshot wounds from his abdomen and leg like they were late-summer roses, and Nureyev feared he was inching closer and closer to becoming truly nameless once more.
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