Work Text:
Kabru had more memories of being out in the wilderness than he did of his childhood apartment in the heart of the city. Every holiday, every birthday, and sweet summer day had been spent on park trails under the hot Florida sun. His mom would pack the cooler with pop cans, water, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It would be one quick stop at the bar to fill it with fresh ice and then they were flying out of the city in his mom's old blue sedan. The windows would be rolled down, the music loud around him as Kabru let the wind whip through his hair until they finally reached the endlessly green expanse of the Everglades.
The best memories he had were when his mom had enough days off and they'd bring a tent out to the camp. Surrounded by the quiet calls of birds and frogs, they'd lay together and count the stars through the tightly knit screen as the insects swarmed just outside. Kabru would complain that he wished the bugs would all disappear as he scratched his bitten arms, but his mother would only draw him closer. Every part of the ecosystem was important, she would remind him, even the insects. Even us. She'd soothe her hand over his skin to stop his insistent itching and guide his eyes back upwards to the galaxy of stars staring down at them. She'd let him find the north star before directing him slowly towards the big and little dippers, Cassiopeia, and if the time of year was right, his favourite, Gemini. His stars.
And then she died.
It was a freak accident. They'd just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. There was nothing anyone could have done.
The stars never shined in the suburbs.
He didn't see the Everglades again for years either. Milsiril warned him that he should stay away from the wetlands after the attack, cradling him close to her chest and warning him how dangerous the natural world could be. She couldn't protect him out there, and she couldn't bear the idea of anything happening to him.
Despite her worries, Kabru could never stop thinking about going back. He couldn't help it; the memories of the endless chorus of birds and crickets sang softly in his ears as he fell asleep. He'd dream of dark waters dappled with hundreds of lush green lily pads and the flicker of life just beneath the current as he finally let himself dive beneath the surface. There was nothing that could hurt him here beneath the quiet of the waters. He had belonged there just as much as the quickest otter, the fiercest alligator, or the prettiest spoonbill. In his dreams, he was finally home, his mother's voice familiar in his ear as she whistled along to the songs of nature.
Kabru never learned to whistle the way she could, but he picked up every book he could on the Everglades instead. He read every brochure, every map, and every article he could find online about the wetlands cut off from him, only a few hours away. He needed to know why it had happened, why she had died. Why could nature turn its back on her when she'd never done anything but love it? His mother had never treated the earth with anything less than reverence and it still killed her. He doesn't know what she did wrong, what she did to deserve it. What had he done to deserve it?
Even now, fifteen years later, he felt no closer to knowing why it happened than he had before. In all his studies and all his research, he could find no answer that he could accept. If his mother had been here, she surely could have figured it out. She had been clever, more clever than he felt even with an undergraduate in ecology degree under his belt. There had to be something hidden out in the wetlands that could possibly give him the answer he needed, but he very well doubted he would find it out today. He could forget his true purpose for now when there were more pressing matters to deal with.
"Professor Kerensil," Kabru sighed, crossing his arms as he watched Mithrun clutch the frog in his hands. "Are you stuck again?"
Mithrun does not respond immediately, wiggling his hips as though the mud was going to release him now that he had captured his prey. It was an answer in itself, but Kabru would not let him get away with not admitting to his error. He'd told Mithrun not to go in the mud, that it was deep, and they didn't know what might be underneath it, but had his supervisor ever listened to his advice? Of course not. Not that Kabru should have expected him to. From what the rangers had said, before Kabru came about Mithrun still trudged into the mud and waters of the area without a thought for his own safety. It seemed having to shimmy out of his waders and crawl back to solid ground through the muck was not enough of a deterrent for him not to do it. If anything, Kabru was enabling him by being here as a safety net. One of these times he wasn't going to help him get out of his mess.
Seeming to realize Kabru was not going to offer his assistance and Mithrun was effectively trapped here, he ignored Kabru in favour of looking at the squirming creature in his hands. Thoroughly covered in mud, it was hard to make out the iconic green colouring that had drawn Mithrun into the mud to begin with, but Kabru would recognize a tree frog anywhere. They were abundant in the state, but depending on what markings hid under the mess it might be invasive. It was an uphill battle to try to spot and dispose of every invasive creature they found during their work, but Mithrun never seemed to tire of the endless game of identification.
"Just a green treefrog," Mithrun said finally, leaning down to gently release the creature back into the mud.
It croaked an unhappy sound as it hopped away from his pale hands, moving with much more grace than Mithrun could through the muck. Kabru watched the frog flop its way back into the treeline and staunchly did not look at his supervisor. Mithrun said nothing more, making a small effort to squirm a bit in the mud before accepting his fate as a new resident of the park. They both knew that if he asked, Kabru would help him, but Mithrun never asked for help even when he should. Instead, after a moment, there's the distinct click of his wader's straps being undone.
"No!" Kabru said, lurching forward as though he could stop Mithrun from stripping off his only protection from the filth around him. "You're going to drag all that mud into the tent if you try to crawl out of there- just. Stay there."
Mithrun huffed a soft sound as though not crawling through the mud was of great inconvenience to him, but stayed where he was. Even with his back turned, Kabru swore he could feel a smugness radiating off him as he did exactly what Mithrun wanted him to without having to ask. Kabru would scold him if he thought it would have any effect on his supervisor, but instead resigned himself to the fact that he cared too much about his own peace. Even if Mithrun did not care about getting dirty, Kabru was the one who had to share the tent with him tonight.
Pacing around the mud, Kabru tested the first few feet carefully before stepping into the pit and letting himself sink down a few inches. If he was careful, he could get close enough without risking also getting trapped. Not that he was likely to get trapped if he made the mistake of stepping into the depth Mithrun was in. Thigh deep for Mithrun was barely knee deep for him, which was truly another reason Mithrun should be more discerning while out here. If he wasn't careful, Kabru was almost certain a shallow puddle could swallow his professor whole.
"You need to relax when I pull," Kabru told him when he managed to get his hands under Mithrun's arms. "I don't want to hurt you."
As though a puppet whose strings had been cut, Mithrun went fully limp and slumped backwards into him without a thought. Kabru nearly stumbled from the sudden drop of weight before he secured his grip around his chest. It would be endearing that Mithrun trusted him enough to catch him if Kabru didn't know that Mithrun wouldn't have cared if he had dropped him into the mud.
"Mithrun," Kabru exhaled, as though all his exasperation could be packaged into a single word.
"You said to relax," Mithrun said, tilting his head back to peek up at Kabru and crushing his hat into his chest. "I did."
Kabru did not dignify with him a response as he took a step backwards towards solid ground and pulled. The earth squelched beneath his feet as Mother Nature fought with him to keep her prize, the mud clinging to Mithrun as though it was trying to pull him deeper into the depths. Maybe in another life, Mithrun was destined to be an eternal fixture here in the middle of the wetlands. He would certainly be happy with that in this one, but Kabru refused to let that happen today. He needed a living supervisor to finish his thesis after all.
Kabru grit his teeth, and with a couple more good pulls, the mud released Mithrun's legs with an unhappy gurgle. He considered letting Mithrun slide onto the ground since he was still being fully unhelpful and lying lifelessly in Kabru's arms, but instead he just sighed and pulled his supervisor to solid ground. Letting him down gently onto the grass, Kabru put his hands on his hips as he looked down at where Mithrun was leaning back against his legs.
"That's the last one today," Kabru told him, even if it wasn't technically his call to make. "You're a mess and we should set up camp before it gets dark."
"We'll set up a camera here then," Mithrun agreed, finally moving to get up off the ground. "The rain might flood the area and bring in more activity."
Kabru didn't think the coming storm would raise the nearby river's tide enough to swallow the area, but it was the last camera they'd brought so he knew it wouldn't hurt. They'd already placed the other devices in enough high-traffic areas that they could afford the risky decision. Besides, if he refused and Mithrun was right, he was certain they'd be making a trip back to the area just so his supervisor could make his point. Mithrun might hide it well behind his neutral mask, but Kabru knew he was a creature of pride.
When the camera was set up and they were trekking back through the loose animal trails they'd followed, Kabru let himself relax enough to let Mithrun be his guide. If they had been in the city, he would have insisted on taking the lead and kept a close eye to make sure his professor didn't get sidetracked. Mithrun could barely make it from the university to the McDonald's they frequented if a single road was closed, but out in these woods Kabru was nearly certain Mithrun could find his way back to where they left the car with his eyes closed. This meant the only tool Kabru bothered carrying anymore was a compass, long having given up on bothering with a map when it was just another obstacle to rummage around in his bag. Kabru had stopped carrying a lot of tools since he'd begun his graduate studies. Fifteen pounds of supplies felt like a hundred at the end of a twenty-mile hike through the oppressive weight of a humid day.
Now he just carried the bare necessities of what he needed and a medical kit for when Mithrun inevitably got hurt. Patching up Mithrun had quickly become just a part of the job. Kabru had stopped flinching when Mithrun came to him with bloody hands from sharp branches and unhappy snakes after the first few expeditions. At least he did come to Kabru on the field now, rather than letting the wounds fester until he got back to camp to be discovered when they rinsed off. At this rate, Kabru was nearly certain that his supervisor was going to be the reason he prematurely greys. There were too many venomous creatures out here for him to be walking around like he hadn't a care in the world.
Not that Mithrun had ever been bitten by a venomous animal, but Kabru was still worried. They were miles into the middle of nowhere with no cell reception and no way to call for help beyond a flare. He did not think his concern was unwarranted when Mithrun could barely be bothered to wear a hat to guard against the sun, let alone resist grabbing wild animals with his bare hands. Kabru had tried to sell him on wearing gloves multiple times, but Mithrun would just slide them off the minute his back was turned. Kabru had conceded this battle in favour of winning the war on slathering them both in sunscreen and insect repellent.
As the sun dipped in the horizon, Kabru was grateful for the latter. There were enough insects out here that if he breathed too deeply, he was certain to swallow a few, instead keeping his lips pressed together and head down. He loved it out here more than anything else, but he had no interest in the extra protein. Unlike a certain man he had met one too many times out here. Now that was someone who was a little too comfortable tromping through the wetlands like it was his backyard. Better not to speak of the devil.
When they reached the area they had marked out for camping in the daylight, Kabru could barely feel his feet. He was grateful to the rangers for directing them to a clear spot deeper in the Everglades, so they didn't need to walk all the way back to where Mithrun had parked the car, but that didn't make the spot close to the water by any means. They were still a few miles away from their last stop, and since they'd been on the move since daybreak Kabru could admit to himself that he was exhausted. Mithrun might hide his needs well, but Kabru's brow felt as though it had become permanently furrowed in the last mile. He could barely wait to lay down, but first—
"Take your waders off," Kabru said, when Mithrun moved to pull their supplies out from beneath the tarps. "You're not going anywhere near that tent until you've cleaned up properly."
"You're also dirty," Mithrun pointed out, but let the tarp hit the ground without moving any closer to it.
"Because of you," Kabru reminded him, as he pulled the big blue jug of water out from where he'd stashed it. "I didn't want to take a mud bath."
"It's part of the job," Mithrun said as he began to undo his belts.
Kabru looked over Mithrun meaningfully but began unclipping his own belt and straps. It was part of the job because Mithrun could not resist climbing into the Everglades like it was a cold pool on a hot day. It was less a part of the job because they had no tools to catch specimens and more than Mithrun caught frogs, snakes and whatever else was too slow to get away, in his hands with the same calm as someone picking up a stick. It was like working with a very calm cat who escaped from the house. It was a mercy that Mithrun didn't drop any creatures on Kabru’s face in his sleep.
While Kabru resented exposing any more of his skin than he needed to for the insects to get at, he had no interest in sleeping with dried mud caked to his blankets tonight. He shimmies out of the ensemble and gives it a quick shake to get rid of some of the muck. There would be no sense in cleaning it fully; it would only get dirty again tomorrow, but he could at least stuff it into their gearbox for the night. Mithrun surrendered his waders over and they made quick work of getting their equipment put away.
"Wait—" Kabru said, when Mithrun moved back towards the tent. "You're not done, you have to wipe down first."
Mithrun looked resigned, but when Kabru lifted the water jug, he held his hands out to be rinsed and accepted the wet cloth to scrub down. It was hardly the intensity of a shower that either of them needed after today, but being out in the wetlands deteriorated any sense of cleanliness. They'd spent one too many days hiking through blistering heat to worry about looking, or frankly, smelling, like their ideal selves. It would do for tonight. As warm as the water had gotten, it still felt good to wipe away some of the sweat and dirt from his body as Kabru finally conceded to letting the tent get set up.
It had been over a decade since his last camping trip, but the motions were familiar. Setting out the tarp, putting in the rods for structural support and then finally inserting the pegs into the soft earth. They work in amicable silence to get everything situated, blankets, pillows, and other necessities stuffed into the tent as quickly as possible. They were reckless to have left their belongings out so blatantly, but there weren't many who dared to go this deep into the wetland that would bother messing with their equipment.
When they're done, their effort leaves them with a solid, if small, safe haven for the night. Despite their efficiency, Kabru could feel the exhaustion pulling him down to the earth as they put away the odds and ends. He wanted off his feet more than anything in the world right now. As he pulled the secured cooler out from where they'd hidden it, he was grateful to hear the telltale sound of ice still clattering around inside.
"We should eat in the tent," Kabru suggested, hoping that Mithrun wouldn't argue. "Unless you want the mosquitos to eat your sandwich before you can."
"They're going to get inside the tent anyway," Mithrun shrugged, swatting fruitlessly around his head. "Scraps might attract the bears."
"Just make sure you eat everything then."
Mithrun looked down at the cooler with a wrinkled nose before he silently ducked into the safety of the tent. As the one who had packed the thing, Kabru would be more offended if Mithrun's doubt wasn't a reflection of experience. Arguably, bad food was better than no food, in Kabru's opinion, but he had packed some truly bad food in the past. It had turned out that some grocery store packaging was not waterproof and that had resulted in some rather… wet sandwiches. There had also been the time with the frozen oranges, and the other time with the hardened gummies… Either way, Mithrun never volunteered to be the one to pack the cooler so its contents were up to Kabru and whatever he could find in the premade section of the Publix. It's not as though he had anywhere to cook it in the dorms and he'd sweet-talked his way out of sneaking things from the cafeteria one too many times.
Luckily, as they cracked open the cooler, everything seemed to be relatively unharmed, albeit with wet packaging. Kabru had elected for the simplicity of some water bottles and firmly sealed turkey sandwiches from the deli. He'd grabbed a plastic container of cheese and grapes that had seemed like a good idea at the time. Adding a little diversity to their diet after eating almost exclusively protein bars and trail mix since a late breakfast wouldn't hurt. It wasn't special any other day, but after all their work, it looked near divine.
Mithrun examined the sandwich he'd been handed for a minute before deigning it edible enough to eat. Kabru hadn't waited for him, tearing into it as though if he waited any longer his joke might come true, and it would be carried away from him by the storm of insects outside. It tasted as good as a sandwich living in an ice bath for eight hours could and he couldn't imagine anything better in this moment. After he'd torn through most of his sandwich, Kabru finally reached down to crack open one of the waters and breathed.
"Any good?" Kabru prompted, watching Mithrun pick at the edge of the bread and trying not to think about how they were certainly going to be sleeping with crumbs tonight.
"It's soggy," Mithrun said, though it didn't stop him from taking another bite. He chewed for another minute before he conceded, "It's fine."
"Anything is fine after all that work," Kabru said, setting his water bottle aside to grab a grape from the assortment. It was cold against his teeth as he hummed, pleased with the sourness. Idly, he picked up another grape, this time holding it out to Mithrun in offering. "We made good time today, didn't we?"
"Mhm," Mithrun nodded, accepting the fruit with careful fingers. "You have sharp eyes for tracks. The camera location choices were easy."
"We'll see how the footage turns out," Kabru told him modestly, but smiled to himself as he finished his sandwich. This was high praise coming from his supervisor, especially unprompted. It was hard to tell how Mithrun felt about his work most days, even with eyes as keen for emotion as his. At least he could be sure that if Mithrun said he did well then he meant it. There were no cheap compliments from his lips. They had to be earned. And Kabru certainly felt like he earned some praise, if for nothing else but not collapsing from heat exhaustion hours ago.
"We'll see," Mithrun agreed as he stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth, cheeks rounded with the effort.
If not for how often they'd eaten together, Kabru would assume that he was trying to rush through the meal. In reality, Mithrun seemed wholly unaware that he even did it, which Kabru could admit was endearing if he did not have to worry about his supervisor choking every time.
In the silence that followed, Kabru leaned comfortably back on his hands and marvelled at the simple pleasure of not being on his feet anymore. Despite that luxury, the tent was a tight fit with both of them inside, their knees bumping as they sat around their impromptu table. Kabru had to hunch down to stop his head from pressing into the screen much more than Mithrun did, but that was likely why Mithrun deemed the tent big enough when they were making their preparations. There was not much in this world that was too small for Mithrun. This probably felt spacious to someone barely taller than five feet. If Kabru had not spent the last three years sharing a space with the man, he was certain he could not last the night with someone so close to him in this heat.
"Remember to drink some water," Kabru said, leaning forward to nudge Mithrun's bare arm with the bottle.
Mithrun jumped from the chill, squinting at him like he knew that Kabru had done it on purpose.
"Finish the cheese," Mithrun countered as he accepted the bottle. "Or we will end up with unexpected guests tonight."
"You should eat it," Kabru said, even as he sat up to take the plastic tray off the cooler. "You could use the extra energy."
"I'm not hungry."
"That means nothing, you’re never hungry," Kabru reminded him, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth.
Mithrun doesn't dignify him with a response as he stuffs the plastic bag from his sandwich into the cooler and falls backwards into the blankets. It was not becoming of an esteemed professor, but it was exactly the type of behaviour that Kabru had come to expect from a friend. As much as strict professionalism mattered on paper, the boundary had been crossed too long ago to worry about now. Somewhere between scooping Mithrun out of the Everglades after he hooked a particularly unhappy fish and forcibly rubbing sunscreen on his supervisor's face before every expedition, Kabru stopped seeing him as an authority. If this bothered Mithrun, he gave no indication.
Tonight, Kabru wouldn't push the issue, eating the last of the cheese before he moved to pack up the cooler properly. They'd had this exact debate more times than he could count and even if he wouldn't fight this battle, he was certain that he was winning the war. As capable as Mithrun was, Kabru had long learned that once he hit the field or got too engrossed in his own research, he was not going to break his focus for anything.
When they first met and Kabru was only his TA, Mithrun would just brush him off when he reminded his professor how late it had gotten. Subtly reminding him had no effect and it hadn't felt appropriate at the time to fuss over it. It had taken Kabru a while to learn the loophole that if Mithrun was focused enough to forget his hunger, he'd also eat anything put in front of him. After that, the routine formed and Mithrun gave Kabru permanent custody of his credit card to buy them both lunch. This was certainly another breach of policy, but no one cared enough to notice. The university was just grateful that Mithrun hadn't scared off another student.
Kabru shoved Mithrun's legs out of his way as he made his way out of the tent to put the now empty cooler with the rest of their supplies. It would take a lot more than a neutral affect and bluntness to scare Kabru away.
In the dark of the Everglades, the sounds of frogs and crickets were endless. If he closed his eyes, Kabru could marvel at the beauty of the sounds, the chorus ever so briefly broken by the distant call of a bird. If he focused, he could identify the species of each call, but through the addled fog of his brain, he just let himself enjoy it for a moment. Only a moment, too, because the bugs were still insufferably bad.
The supplies secured, he surveyed their surroundings one last time, taking in the dark shapes of the trees and foliage around them. He had admittingly mediocre night vision, but nothing had seemed out of place. He knew very well that if something was out there, even a flashlight wasn't going to reveal it to him. The predators of the Everglades were profoundly good at hiding themselves.
The idea made cold fear squirm in his chest, turning to head back to the tent. He reasoned that they were well centred in the clearing, a few meters from the surrounding treeline, but through all this noise would they hear anything if it approached them? There were very few species that would be of true concern this far from the water, and even fewer that would be curious about a near-camouflaged tent. With nothing in the way of food left and no lights lit, they shouldn't become a great point of interest to the wildlife.
And yet… the risks were never zero out here. He'd much rather hear or even see something approaching than be caught by surprise. The tarps they tied would defeat either option and as he chewed idly on his thumbnail, he considered their options. The tarp cover would obscure them from sight and protect them from the elements if the weather turned sour, but it also muffled every sound that tried to pass through it. The quiet could help sleep, but Kabru doubted he was going to sleep well either way and Mithrun would sleep through a hurricane if he took his medication. Tilting his head back to look up at the stars above them, Kabru reasoned that if it was going to be up to him to keep an eye out tonight, he'd rather the tarp off.
"It's pretty clear out," Kabru said, aiming for some levity. "The storm isn't until tomorrow night; we could do fine with just the screen top."
"If you take it off and it does start raining, you'll be the one putting it back up," Mithrun said through the cover of the tent.
"Yeah, yeah," Kabru conceded lightly, knowing that the threat was empty. Not even Mithrun would tolerate a wet blanket.
Kabru pulled the tarp off the tent as quickly as possible, folding it under the weight of their equipment tote before heading back into their insect safe haven.
"You let the bugs in," Mithrun pointed out immediately, reaching up to clap his hands around one of the invaders. He had laid out their bedding more formally while Kabru was gone, the sleeping bags softening the hard ground beneath them.
"They let themselves in," Kabru said, grabbing a tissue and stuffing it into Mithrun's hands before he could wipe the guts on their blankets. "I'll catch them, but we should sleep, the sun will rise early tomorrow."
Mithrun nodded, moving to rummage around in his bag before popping open the small bottle he carried. Kabru looked away from him, refusing to watch him take the sleeping pills dry as he always did. The very idea made Kabru want to gag. That wasn't normal.
Kabru tucked his shoes in the doorway as he went about pulling off his protective outer layers. As much as it mattered to cover every inch of skin when outside, he was not going to be able to sleep in any of it. He always ran so hot that even in the office he felt warm, let alone out in the humidity of the wetlands. The relief of stripping down was immeasurable, but he had enough sense left to know that sleeping in his boxers was not an option. However, he also had enough foresight to have packed pyjama shorts at the bottom of his bag and he'd never been more grateful for his past self.
Mithrun had stripped down to a looser set of pants and made himself comfortable under the loose sheet he carried as a blanket. Kabru couldn't imagine still being in pants, but if the heat was bothering his supervisor as badly, Kabru couldn't tell. It wasn't fair at all, but as he downed the last of his water he crawled under his own blanket. It felt childish to say goodnight, so he bit his tongue as he settled in, forcing himself to just close his eyes and sleep.
Time moved slowly around him as he tried to force his aching body to loosen enough to give in to the exhaustion that clung to his every muscle. Taking slow breaths, he guided himself through the motions of counting each one in an attempt to trick his body into unconsciousness. He then tried systematically tensing his already sore muscles in an attempt to coax them into relaxation. He even tried to list every species of frog he could think of in hopes of boring himself. He started on his back and then tried either side for a while, twisting his legs around in search of some semblance of comfort before resigning himself to laying on his back once more. It was helpless.
Despite how raw his eyes felt from the day of intense focus, he forced them back open to stare up at the night sky as he sighed softly to himself. It wasn't that he wasn't unfamiliar with insomnia, but this was one of the worst places for it to have decided to rear its ugly head. Unlike Mithrun, he didn't have a prescription to shoulder through it, so he just pulled the blanket down a bit more and accepted that he was going to be groggy on their walk back to the car tomorrow.
Now that he wasn't so focused on trying to sleep, he could feel his ears straining for every twitch of movement in the foliage around them. Through the screen he could see the insects still swarming, and past that, the limber sway of the trees. The breeze lifted the tarp beneath their tent enough to crinkle it the faintest amount and Kabru wished it wouldn't. The sound surely wasn't enough to draw anything to their location, but he had no way of being sure when most animals had far sharper hearing than he did. If something got curious about them, what were they going to do? He had read the ranger's guides front to back about how to deal with dangerous animals, but if they were caught off guard their options floundered. His heart raced at the idea as he swallowed down his unsteadiness.
Nothing was going to happen; they'd been out here together a hundred times in the daylight, and nothing had ever happened. If the animals out here didn't care about them when they were stomping through the water and foliage, surely the quiet of their presence tonight would make no difference in their risk levels. Besides, if something did happen, surely Mithrun would know what to do. Even now, his supervisor was the picture of calm beside him, unafraid of a single threat that prowled through the thin layer of their tent.
Kabru took a deep breath, rolling over to watch the steady rise and fall of Mithrun's chest as though he could trick his body into mimicking that level of peace. Without thinking, he shifted closer to him, swallowing down the uncertainty as he stopped himself a few inches away. He just wanted— something. It was hard to articulate the emotion coiled tight in his chest. The way Mithrun laid here with an air of such causal confidence slowed the unsteady pounding in Kabru's chest. If Mithrun wasn't worried, there was nothing to be worried about. Kabru could make it through the night without needing comfort like a scared little kid.
As he slowed his breath, Kabru let his gaze trace the gentle lines of Mithrun's face in the dark. In sleep, his supervisor looked ten years younger. His lips were parted around each breath, and the heavy bags under his eyes softened without the weight of life to drag them down. Even the scar that had been carved across his face seemed fainter in the dark, no longer reminding Mithrun of the memory with every blink. He looked at peace like this, even as he turned onto his side to bury his face into his pillow more, pulling the blanket up higher as though he could possibly be cold in this heat. A wayward curl fell down over his cheek during the movement and as careful as Kabru could manage, he reached out to tuck it back behind the jagged edge of his ear.
Kabru's heart stops in his chest as he sucked in a deep breath in surprise when Mithrun's dark eyes snapped open at the contact. A foolish part of him wanted to close his own and pretend that he hadn't just gotten caught, but instead, Kabru just offered a wobbly smile as his face flushed with warmth.
"Sorry, your hair fell, and I thought it would bother you, so I was just… trying to help," Kabru fumbled, turning back onto his back to avoid Mithrun's gaze. "I can't sleep— I didn't mean to wake you."
"I'm not sleepy yet," Mithrun mumbled despite the rasp of his voice.
Kabru felt his smile turn fond as he closed his eyes, knowing that Mithrun was lying and grateful for the attempt. He should let him get back to sleep, but as Mithrun watched him with half-lidded eyes, he wagered that he might as well make the disturbance worth it to him.
"Do you know any of the constellations, Mithrun?" Kabru whispered, staring up through the screen at the stars winking back at him.
"A few," Mithrun said, opening his eyes wider to look at him.
Kabru kept his eyes forward as he caught his teeth around his bottom lip and idly bit down. From where they were lying the trees blocked parts of the sky, but he could still see the bright light of the North star winking down at them. Following up along the curved handle, he finds the familiar shape of the celestial spoon.
"There's the Little Dipper," Kabru whispered, reaching a hand up to trace the shape of it with his finger.
"It's a bear," Mithrun told him, shifting closer to peer up to where he was pointing. The meagre inches that Kabru had left disappeared as their shoulders pressed together. "Not a spoon."
Kabru scoffed at the correction but tilted his head down to rest against the soft hair beside him. It was comfortable to have Mithrun close despite the heat still clinging to them. They'd both end up sweating tonight anyway, there was no reason to move apart now.
"What about that one? The Big Dipper?" Kabru asked, tracing his way upwards.
"The great wagon," Mithrun told him, sounding miffed as he squinted up at the night sky. "Why are they all spoons to you?"
"They're not all spoons," Kabru said, smiling softly as he scanned for the distinct collection of stars in the shape of a 'w'. "That one is Cassiopeia, a woman from myth."
Mithrun considered the shape of the stars for a long time, lips pursed like he was searching the awkward arrangement of stars for meaning.
"That is not a woman," Mithrun concluded, closing his eyes as though coming to a firm decision.
Kabru laughed, letting his hand fall down against the blankets as he considered the night sky above them. He never learned many other constellations over the years. Most of their expeditions had been during the day, and the college town's lights swallowed any hopes of the stars reaching them.
"It really isn't," Kabru agreed, as his eyes traced in search of the familiar shape of Gemini.
The constellation was fainter tonight than it had been the last time he'd seen it, but Castor and Pollux shone as bright as always. The twins, never to be separated or changed thousands of years after they were named. Kabru would recognize them in his sleep, but he couldn't help but wonder if they'd recognize him in turn. He was not the same child he had been when he'd last laid beneath their light, and he never would be again. If his mother could see him now, would she recognize him either? The sky offered him no comfort as he pulled his gaze away from his stars, eyes catching on the shape of Taurus staring back at him in their place.
"I used to camp out here alone when I came to America," Mithrun murmured as he tucked deeper into Kabru's shoulder. "When I was still learning about the Everglades."
"What?" Kabru exhaled sharply, struck by the image of Mithrun wandering these lands alone as his thoughts scattered. "That could have been dangerous."
"I wasn't scared," Mithrun whispered, his breath warm against Kabru's skin. "Nothing scared me after the trial."
Kabru swallowed around the lump that rose to his throat, nodding as he finally closed his eyes. He knew that Mithrun had no trouble with the subject of his near-death all those years ago, but it never stopped Kabru from wincing. He still regretted now not just asking Mithrun what had happened. His late-night curiosity had found him knee-deep in articles of academic fraud and murder trial details, learning far more than he deserved to know. It still left a sour taste in his mouth remembering how he'd read out Mithrun's past across dozens of news articles rather than hearing it from his own mouth. While Mithrun rarely spoke of it, Kabru thought of it more than he wanted to admit.
"Is there anything that scares you now?" Kabru asked softly, trying to brush the memories away.
"No," Mithrun said immediately, which would have made Kabru scoff if he was any other man. With Mithrun, he knew that he truly believed what he said. "But you're scared of something."
Kabru exhaled a long quiet sound like a laugh as he nodded, gesturing dismissively as he deflected, "Of course, who isn't? Heights, hurricanes, those giant mosquitos outside… there's a lot to be scared of."
"No," Mithrun sighed, his brow pinching as though Kabru was being intentionally difficult. "You're scared of something right now."
Kabru pressed his lips together as he felt himself deflate, tilting his head back into his pillows as he opened his eyes to stare out into the night sky. Despite his own ability to see through people, it never stopped being unnerving when Mithrun directly addressed emotions Kabru thought he'd hidden well.
"I haven't been out here overnight in a while," Kabru admitted after a moment. "I guess I'm just worried about what might be out there."
"You know what's out there," Mithrun reminded him. "And we are not the typical diet of any of those animals."
"Animals attack for many reasons other than hunger," Kabru countered, even though he knew that Mithrun knew that. "Self-defense for one."
"We are not threatening them by sleeping here."
"Accidents happen," Kabru argued, tensing beneath him as the words began to spill out. "Not every attack can be predicted based on behavioural history because there are too many factors that play their role in how an animal reacts to human presence. For all we know we're a hundred feet from a new bear den the rangers missed during their last trip. There could be—"
"Kabru," Mithrun whispered, pushing away from him to sit up. Kabru's heart stilled, eyes widening at the idea that he might have made him angry. Swallowing down the rest of his worries, Kabru waited in anticipation until Mithrun spoke, his voice low and serious in the dark. "We are safe here. Nothing is going to happen to us tonight."
Kabru took a deep breath. If Mithrun was saying it, it would have to be true. Exhaling slowly, Kabru nodded.
"I'll hold that to you," Kabru said lightly as Mithrun watched him with heavy-lidded eyes.
Mithrun, seemingly content with being the bearer of the blame, laid back down beside him. Despite the opportunity to move away from Kabru's invasion of his space, Mithrun made no effort to escape the warm press of their shoulders together. Instead, Kabru felt a hand find his beneath the blankets, clumsily lacing their fingers despite how sweaty Kabru knew his must be.
"Get some sleep," Mithrun murmured against him as he tucked his head against his shoulder.
"Of course," Kabru whispered, letting his eyes fall closed as he squeezed the smaller hand in his. Sleep seemed much closer than before, the tension finally easing from his shoulders as he sighed. "Goodnight, Mithrun."