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“Nice one, Omega!”
It’s a gorgeous, temperate afternoon on the latest backwoods planet that you and the boys have scoped out to lay low on for a few days. You’re sprawled out on the cerulean grass, watching from uphill as Hunter teaches Omega to fish. She’s just reeled in a peculiar, coppery little creature; you cheer accordingly.
“And what about me?” Wrecker laughs boisterously, holding his own catch aloft; he’s been attempting to snatch the fish straight from the water with his bare hands, despite speed not being his strong suit. You clap with flourish, shooting him an impressed grin.
“Bolts?”
From behind you, Tech’s clear voice descends the gangplank of the Marauder . You twist in your seated position to see him.
“What’s up?” you ask, smiling sweetly.
Tech is by far your most kindred spirit amongst the Batch, but you haven’t been the only one to notice that he’s been… Different since Echo left with Rex a few weeks ago.
Uncharacteristically hesitant… And especially around you.
Knowing this, you force your features to be as open and welcoming as possible, even when all you want is to pull him aside and ask him what’s wrong.
To your quiet delight, Tech comes over to settle down on the grass beside you. It would only take a bend of your knee to press your thigh to his… The thought is as comforting as it is silly.
“I’ve finished the renovations I had planned for today,” he explains, a spark of satisfaction lighting up his deep brown eyes.
“That’s great!” You nudge his shoulder with your own. “I’ve always said the cargo hold could use a fresh coat of paint,” you tease.
Tech frowns at this. “You really think so?”
You laugh, resting a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “No, Tech. I don’t.” He hums thoughtfully in response. “So did you need me for something?”
He hesitates, and you try not to let him see you worrying your lip. Your ever-straightforward Tech rarely deliberates on decisions this long; is something on his mind? Did you mess something up during your last maintenance check?
Tech’s dark eyes are watching Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega’s continued activities down by the riverbank, but you have a feeling he’s staring straight through them and into his own thoughts.
“Some of the modifications. They’re… For you.”
Your breath catches, and you don’t bother hiding the way your smile lights up.
“ Me? ”
At last, he turns his steady gaze to you with a nod. Something moves in your peripheral, and you glance down—Tech holds a small length of dark fabric in his outstretched hand.
“What’s that, one of Hunter’s headbands?” You quirk an eyebrow.
“No, Bolts, it is for your eyes .”
Blinking owlishly, you fix him with a stare. “What are you doing with a blindfold? ”
A shy little smile overtakes his handsome features, and you suddenly don’t care what he’s suggesting, as long as he keeps looking at you like this—but he pleads regardless.
“Humor me, please?”
“Yeah, um.” Swallowing down your nerves, you rise to your feet alongside him. “Okay, Tech. Sure.”
You cast one last hesitant glance to the others, finding them still pleasantly occupied by the water, before you walk over to the gangplank.
“Okay,” you repeat, gesturing up toward your eyes. “The floor is yours.”
With dexterous hands, he ties the blindfold gently around your head. You wonder, for the briefest of moments, if you feel his fingers linger about the nape of your neck; but you must have imagined it.
With your vision enshrouded in darkness, you rely entirely on the feeling of Tech’s steady hands on your shoulders to guide you up into the Marauder . When you laugh nervously, you can practically hear the puzzled frown in Tech’s voice.
“You haven’t even seen it yet,” he chides.
“But I’m excited!”
Your footsteps clang against the durasteel flooring, but Tech doesn’t let you bump into anything on the way to his intended destination. Based on your vague sense of direction, you think he’s leading you to… The cargo hold?
“Alright,” Tech says at last. “You may regain your vision.”
You smile as he unwraps the fabric from your head. When you open your eyes, you blink for a moment to adjust to the dull light.
Sat atop the supply crate in front of you, sits… A box.
It’s comprised of brushed durasteel that is clearly hand-welded together in some places, with a smooth handle on top and heavy-duty latches on the front. It looks like—
“A box for your tools,” Tech explains as he steps into view. “See here—”
Undoing the closure mechanisms, he lifts the lid to open the container. Inside, two floating trays full of smaller dividers fan out to reveal plenty of empty space, perfectly sized for the myriad of tools and spare parts you most often use to help upkeep the Marauder . In the deepest recess of the main compartment, a small light even illuminates the space.
Warmth rises to your cheeks as you step forward to gingerly lay your hands over the unique work of craftsmanship.
“Tech, this is amazing,” you murmur, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his gaze. “Did you… Make this?”
“It was simple enough,” he reassures you. “As I’ve rearranged our work stations in the wake of Echo’s departure, I kept in mind your past complaints regarding the lack of space for your own belongings. I thought that this would be an elegant solution, should you… Choose to stay.”
Surprised, you look up at Tech at last, but his dark eyes are cast downward upon the toolbox as he fidgets with one of the latching mechanisms.
“What do you mean?” Your brow furrows. “You don’t think that I… Do you want me to leave?”
“ No. ” His dark eyes snap up to meet your own with a determination that makes your heart feel light in your chest. “Of course not.”
An impulse to reach out to him suddenly feels too powerful to withstand.
Slowly—giving him plenty of time to pull away—you move to lay your hand over his where it rests upon the thoughtful gift. Rather than reject the advance, though, he turns his palm skyward to meet your own. Your breath hitches in your lungs.
“Tech,” you murmur, voice suddenly hoarse with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His big, gorgeous eyes seem frantic as they scan your face… Your darling Tech, always seeking to understand what feels beyond his grasp.
But you’re not out of reach—you’re right here.
“Forgive my presumption, Bolts,” he says, the apple of his throat bobbing. You’re mesmerized by the movement. “There’s been much to… Adapt to, as of late. I’ve found myself thinking that your addition to our squad has become invaluable, and I—”
“Tech,” you repeat with a small smile. “I… I get it.”
Somehow, you’ve drifted forward to close the space keeping you from him. Even in the dim light of the cargo hold, you ponder, the inky depths of his eyes still catch the light behind his goggles. His expression is so open, so— fond , softening as your reassurance succeeds in dissolving some of the tension from his body.
“Can I kiss you?” The whispered words are out before you can think better of them. To your delight, Tech’s eyes go wide as moons—but he doesn’t pull away.
“I—” He inhales sharply. “I would like that.”
Before you can move, he’s pressing his lips to yours.
You reach up with both hands to cradle the sharp line of his jaw—the kiss is so hesitant, so shy, so distinctly Tech that you feel like you might melt where you stand. Boundless affection blossoms in your chest for the brilliant, honest, kindhearted man before you—your dearest friend, deserving of every star in the galaxy. His palms readily fit themselves to your waist, and all those months spent burying your burgeoning feelings suddenly seem impossibly foolish.
At last, you pull away to press your forehead to his. You both sound blissfully out of breath. When a small smile curves his flushed lips, you drink in the sight with hungry eyes.
“For what it’s worth,” Tech breathes. “Though I would respect any decision of yours… I’ve been desperately hoping for you to stay.”
A giddy laugh bubbles up out of you as you throw your arms around his neck.