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Uranus stared at X’s back as he stared into the distance, tension visible in the stiffness of his posture—his smile wavered just a tad, the ever-present sensation of something feeling off curling around him like a physical presence.
He’d wanted to speak to him. To him, Uranus thought, his smile returning. He was finally being included… as more than an after-thought. More than just an incidental inclusion because he happened to be one of the planets. It felt… nice.
It felt good.
“X,” he finally coughed, an unbearable awkwardness welling up in his core. “Mate, you needed to speak with me?”
X whirled around; the movement was so quick that it barely registered. He was smiling, a grin that was ever so slightly too many teeth; it sent alarm bells up in his mind, but Uranus smothered them, too excited for the possibility that he’d finally be seen as something more than… something more than what he was.
“Of course I did!” X clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward. “Now that Neptune’s gone, we can finally speak truthfully.”
His smile faltered again. What did X mean by that? “We could speak truthfully with Neptune there, mate. He’s not—”
“Oh, no,” X interrupted him, his eyes widening, his grin strong as ever. “I didn’t mean Neptune was anything bad. He’s a… good planet. But you and me… we have a lot more in common than we have with Neptune, don’t we?”
Uranus furrowed his brow more. “Mate… I just met you. What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing bad, I assure you.” X moved closer, every step dragging something sharper out of his core, making Uranus feel just a bit more unsettled. “I just meant that we both… we feel in similar ways.” X eyed him for a few silent seconds, and a horrible weight built up in his throat, strangling back any of the words Uranus thought he might say. “You know. I’ve been watching you for a while, Uranus. I don’t think you’re appreciated as much as you deserve.”
What? The word blazed like fire in his thoughts, blowing away everything else—even the burgeoning uncertainty, the unsettling feeling deep in his core. It felt like X had just torn a hole open in his chest, shoved the words straight through and left him with nothing but them. I don’t think you’re appreciated as much as you deserve. X stepped closer… and this time there was no corresponding anxiety, just a startling emptiness. He stared, his eyes a fathomless dark blue, like black holes embedded in his face.
“I think you deserve far more than you’ve ever received. I just want to make that clear, you know?” His expression drew a little in, something like pity blooming across his face. It made Uranus shift in place, his smile faltering entirely, replaced by an uncertain thin line. “Don’t you ever think that?”
He didn’t expect the direct question, but it dug deep inside his core. “Think that… I deserve more?” He frowned slightly. “I don’t know what you mean, mate. I’m…” The words weren’t coming up to describe the deep well of shame that tunneled straight through him, that colored every single one of his thoughts and feels. “I’m fine,” he finally said, the words sharp with untruth, dragging out of his mouth slowly.
“Are you?” X stared at him, his smile dropping into something smaller. There were no teeth in this smile. It felt… real. It felt right. “Do you really think that, Uranus?” He said his name slowly, stretching out the syllables… and he said it right. “Can I tell you something?”
Uranus swallowed back something sharp, feeling like a hand had wrapped itself around his throat. “Of course,” he finally said, the words almost croaking out of him. “What is it?”
“I think you’re talented, Uranus. At plenty of things.” X moved even closer, until now they were so close it felt like all Uranus could see was him. “I think you just need to be reminded of that.”
“That’s a lot of ‘I think’, mate,” Uranus said, staring straight into X’s eyes. Much as they looked like black holes, they almost felt like them as well, like he was being dragged closer with every second that passed. “What do you mean?”
X cracked a smile—and then laughed, throwing his head back slightly. It tore a responding, automatic smile from Uranus, the feeling soaring straight down to his core. “I mean… you’re talented! Have you seen your paintings?” X leaned forward, throwing an arm around his shoulder and dragging him closer, their faces side-by-side. The pull only grew stronger. “And I’ve seen you use your bow. You’re good at that, too. Why does nobody ever seem to recognize that?”
Uranus stared at the pinprick stars in the distance. “I—” The word croaked from him and was immediately eclipsed by X tugging at his braid, the sensation like someone had dumped a bucket of ice over his head. X continued speaking, every word like a physical strike.
“You care, too. You apologized to your moons for that joke you made, didn’t you?” Uranus frowned. Neptune had to give me the idea to do that. I never would’ve done it otherwise. I was too in my head about how they should’ve seen it as a joke. “And you care about Neptune staying in his orbit for so long, so far away from everyone else. And you—”
“Alright, mate,” Uranus interrupted him. “I get it.” He swallowed hard, struggling to get his thoughts in order, his eyes suddenly burning. “But what’s so important about that? So what. I’m good at painting, I can shoot with my bow, I can try and apologize to my moons… but what does that matter if I’m the last planet on anyone’s mind?” He tugged hard at his own braid, hard enough that it made his eyes water from the pain (at least, that’s what he wanted to think). “What does it matter? If I’m never included when it matters?”
X stared at him—the briefly shocked look he’d worn melted away completely, replaced by a growing smile, the darkness of his eyes feeling somehow much stronger. “Exactly.”
Uranus knit his brow. “Exactly?” X suddenly whirled around him, standing on his other side, one hand drawing over the rest of the Solar System in the distance.
“Exactly,” he repeated. “What does it matter if you’re always the last? But…” He leaned in, his eyes widening, the tiniest of frowns on his face. “We can change that, Uranus. We can change that. Everyone else can see how talented you are, how much more you deserve… you just have to stick with me. I…”
He paused, tilting his head to the side—and then he leaned in more, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes unfathomably dark, drawing Uranus in until his thoughts felt like distant reminders, everything replaced by X and the words he spoke. He felt hands cradling his face a moment later, the affection tearing up even more of him inside. “Let me tell you something that I wish someone had been able to tell me.”
Uranus swallowed hard; he wasn’t even breathing now, his chest tightening up, everything besides X a misty, distant thought. “What?”
X smiled. “I understand you. I’m there for you. We’re going to stick together, you and me. We’re going to change things.” He closed his eyes finally, and like he was tied to him, Uranus did as well, the inky darkness beyond his eyelids such that now he was only focused on X’s voice, the grasp of his hands. “I see you.”
He took in a sharp inhale—and then let out a shaky breath. This was all he’d ever wanted. Someone who saw him before anyone else. “You do?”
“Of course I do,” X replied, his voice low. “I’ve been watching you. I think I know you better than any of these other planets. Even Neptune. I’ve seen how frustrated you feel with him sometimes. I’ve seen how left-out you feel. I’ve seen how everyone ignores you and looks at Saturn. I’ve seen you.” His eyes burned more, and Uranus could only think that he hoped he didn’t start crying in front of X. “And I’ll keep seeing you. If you stay with me. And help me make sure this Solar System changes for the better.”
Uranus felt flayed—like X had dug straight down to his core and left his chest open. Like… like everything he’d ever felt had been dragged into the open, and someone was offering a solution. And he was. X was.
X finally leaned away from him, and Uranus blinked his eyes open, his vision slowly adjusting to see X’s wide, teeth-bared grin. It felt dangerous. It felt…right. “So, Uranus…” He tilted his head to the side, reaching out one hand, palm-up. “Are you with me?”
Uranus didn’t even have to think about it.
He squeezed their hands together. “Of course, mate.”