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They’d spent the better part of a week engaging in battles, losing several of their newest crew members to the improved Gaia soldiers, and racking up extensive damage to Arcadia. They mourned their loses quietly while taking inventory of their diminishing supplies. As the ship struggles to repair herself crew members eat increasingly unappealing meals. Mr. Bird watches from the rafters as they’ll turn to tell someone something only to find the seat next to them gone.
Moral was wearing thin and nothing Harlock or Yama said could lift it without a successful raid on a Gaia ship or two. Crew were thirsty for payback (despite how many of Gaia Sanction’s men they’ve already killed) and hungry for more than watered down meals.
Glancing about, the long necked bird quickly notices his main humans missing from the mess hall. Immortal or not, especially in the younger man’s case, they needed more than wine to keep them going strong. With a put-upon warble he glides down from his perch. He’ll find them and caw annoyingly until they make their way to the serving line.
It takes him only forty minutes of searching to locate his missing humans. He could have found them faster if he didn’t need to stop every once in a while to nuzzle at a miserable looking crew member. A quick nuzzle and chirp lifted their spirits enough for him to be confident enough to continue on.
Forty minutes to reach his favorites.
Unacceptable. But forgivable given the state of the rest of the crew. He’ll have to reprimand the two men for that as well.
They were huddled together in the main computer chamber. Harlock resting with his back on one of the thick cables coming out from the central hub. He had his head down, red haloing his dark hair, resting on top of Yama’s. The younger man was safely ensconced within the older captain’s embrace, arms and legs and cloak wrapped around his thinner frame as he sits sideways facing Tochiro’s “face”. Mr. Bird could just see the bumps in Harlock’s cape from where Yama had his arms wrapped around the older man’s waist.
Neither man spoke as they sat there. Tochiro kept a comforting hum going, lights pulsing in a soothing pattern for them to breathe to. Every time someone’s voice echoes down the long hallways Harlock turns his head just enough for his eye to watch the doorway.
Mr. Bird lands on the cable behind Harlock and nibbles at his unkempt hair in exasperation. It certainly wouldn’t due to have the crew seeing their captain so messy right now. Below, Yama huffs out a weary laugh when Harlock grunts at his grooming.
“Hmm, he does needs to shower, doesn’t he, Mr. Bird?”
Both men turn their heads to watch as Miime finally graces them with her glowing presence. Mr. Bird just continues his preening in the new patch of hair presented to him.
“We tried earlier. All the hot water’s gone,” Yama half-heartedly whines when Miime stops by their feet. His face’s still covered in soot streaked with sweat. The right cheek managed to get a little clean by being wiped off on Harlock’s cloak when he’d turned to look at her.
“And you couldn’t even bother to clean up in the sink before hiding away here?” She raises an eyebrow at the two men. Gracefully she kneels down, sparing a second to reach over their shoulders to scratch the disapproving bird under his chin. Mimicking an action she’s seen humans do, she licks her thumb and reaches out to wipe some of the soot away.
“Gross!”
Both immortals chuckled as he quickly hid his face against Harlock’s chest before she could get close enough. Harlock shifts enough so she can pull his face free. Vaguely he can feel the ache in his face from smiling at their antics. Behind him Mr. Bird caws in approval as she finally manages to spit wipe most of Yama’s face clean.
“With all the things we do you find that gross?” Harlock punctuates his question by rubbing his hands sensually up and down Yama’s torso.
Unfortunately, the motion was at just the right pressure to set him off giggling instead of moaning. Instead of leaning back into Harlock’s embrace he jerks away. Right into Miime’s arms.
Miime, who easily cradled him happily in her arms, shifting down to sit on the floor. “You are still in need of a shower,” she murmurs, nuzzling her nose against his forehead. Slyly she glances up at Harlock, sitting just feet away from them, with only Mr. Bird for company now.
“Mmm, maybe later.”
Both look down as Yama uses weary legs to tug Miime back towards the warmth of Harlock and his large cloak. Knowing how exhausted the younger man must be, she lets him have his way.
With a groan he settles back into Harlock’s embrace. Bracketed from both sides with warm bodies, Yama gradually relaxes, the warmth easing sore muscles, and sleep reaching out to welcome him. Miime’s thin fingers carding through his hair, gently untangling it, tips him over.
The three huddle close together in the central computer chamber, one asleep and another on his way. As Yama relaxes into a light sleep Harlock isn’t far behind. Surrounded by a recovering crew and his closest companions allowed him to step down a moment and rest.
Soon they’d have to regroup. Gather more and better intel for a supply run. Assist where they can to help Arcadia get back in fighting shape. But for now, they can lower their guard, here on the farthest outskirts of space.
With Miime and Tochiro watching over them the two captains sleep. Tochiro keeps the temperature at a sleepy warmth to keep them at rest. Miime never stops running her hands over their bodies, fingers trailing trough hair, soothing over cheeks. Mr. Bird keeps vigil, glaring at anyone hesitantly trying to enter to bother the slumbering men.