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Rimbaud is tinkering with a telescope. The sky is clear tonight; bright, and full of stars twinkling overhead. He doesn’t stargaze. Never has, really. However, this old telescope has been collecting dust up in the attic for quite some time. He’d bought it on a whim, hoping it could provide some semblance of entertainment. Perhaps he’d pick up astrology as a hobby.
Though, he never quite found the time to put the thing to use. Until now, that is.
“Stars?”
The sudden breach of silence nearly knocks him on his ass, gripping the tail-end of the telescope with more force than necessary. Luckily, it didn’t break.
“You know not to sneak up on me like that.” He scolds.
“Sorry,” The voice, belonging to his partner Verlaine, replies in apology. “I didn’t peg you as the type to stargaze.”
“You would be correct.” Rimbaud leans down to glance into the finderscope. Everything is a bit blurry, which means he probably hadn’t adjusted it correctly— though it worked well enough.
“Then what’s the occasion?” Verlaine hovers by his partner's side, glancing up into the sky.
“None in particular. Come look.” Rimbaud leans back, gesturing to the finderscope. Verlaine shrugs.
“What’s the difference seeing them up close?”
Rimbaud huffs. “Will you just come look?”
“Okay,” Verlaine hunches down, a little more so than Rimbaud had to as the height wasn’t adjusted for him. “They still look the same.”
“No, no. Just wait.” Rimbaud moves the base of the telescope around, trying to accurately pinpoint where it needed to be. When he thinks he has the right spot, he lets go. “There, can you see about.. seven stars that look to be the shape of a spoon? Or.. a pot with a really long handle?”
Verlaine hums in acknowledgment. “Sort of… I don’t get it.”
“It’s called the big dipper. It’s a constellation.”
Verlaine leans back. “They all look like stars to me.”
“Have more imagination,” Rimbaud chides, leaning forward to brush Verlaine’s fringe away from his face. Verlaine gives him a puzzled look. “It came untucked.”
“Right,” Verlaine clears his throat. “how about we ditch the telescope and do something more fun?”
“Your idea of fun is rather broad..”
“You doubt me, mon amour?” Verlaine outstretches his hand, bowing ever so slightly. Rimbaud catches on rather quickly, this isn’t the first time they’ve danced.
“You know I’ll step on your feet.” Rimbaud whispers as Verlaine leads them into a gentle sway.
“Of course, you always do.” Verlaine jabs lightheartedly, guiding Rimbaud into a few slow spins. He does, in fact, almost step on Verlaine’s shoes. Verlaine moves out of the way before that happens.
They danced for a while under the moonlight. Fluid movements turned to a subtle rocking motion with both of their foreheads pressed together. They had no worries in the world, if only for a fleeting moment. No ex-spy history, no thoughts about that night, no….
“Chuuya.” Rimbaud suddenly interjects.
“Ah..?”
“You left Chuuya unattended in the house?”
Verlaine’s face goes pale. “Oh…”
Rimbaud leans in, plants a quick kiss to Verlaine’s lips. Too quick for him to kiss back. “I love you, but you’re very stupid. Help me take the telescope back? Before Chuuya wakes up.”
The brat wins again. Verlaine admits his defeat and helps Rimbaud fold the telescope back up. (To which he ends up carrying it back the entire way.)