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Art done by the amazing oldowlshollow
The beach was the best place for stargazing.
Harvey could attest to that.
He didn’t mean to take it up as a hobby, but when you worked with someone like Maru for as long as he did, sometimes interests migrated between people like birds winging between two fixed points.
That’s why, when he got the weather report from his old ham radio, he knew he had to make the trip tonight.
Possible aurora sightings.
Strong solar activity.
Clear skies, new moon.
The reports kept swirling through his head as he trekked over the bridge, dusk kissing the last candy-coated licks of sunset from the horizon. The stars were already coming out in droves. Little pinpricks of light just waiting to be discovered.
“Ahh, my good doctor, I see you were also called to the sea and sky by siren song and promise of exploration!”
Elliott is seated on the freshly constructed pine bench just outside his cabin, pretending like the perfect gentleman he is, that Harvey’s arrival had been nothing more than mere happenstance and not the culmination of a summer’s worth of stargazing together.
The bench still smelled of pine; bright and sharp in the cool air of autumn as he took up his seat next to the writer.
“Do tell, my good doctor, what marvels do the celestia hold in store for us tonight?”
Harvey unlatches the case, setting up his tripod and telescope as he speaks.
“Possible aurora sightings,” he says, excitedly rambling on. “And judging by the time of year and absence of moonlight, we have a good chance of locating that distant planet usually obstructed by our closest heavenly neighbour.”
“A veritable feast for the senses,” he hums back happily. “I shall fetch the warm beverages.” Elliott stops at the door, looking back with a smile. “Coffee as usual, I presume?”
Harvey looks up from his telescope, nodding. “Yes. Thank you, Elliott.”
He wonders – not for the first time – if the butterflies in his stomach are in anticipation of the night sky, or the familiarity of Elliott’s proximity. In this small, easy ritual they’ve created between the two of them. It truly has been a lovely summer getting to know him better; discovering just how much the two of them share in common.
His suspicions are confirmed with the soft press of a mug into Harvey’s cold hands. The warmth of Elliott’s fingers brushing lightly over his, send little shivers through his body that have very little to do with the cold.
Taking a sip, he sighs in bliss. The coffee – as always – is perfection. Or perhaps, it is merely his growing affinity for the writer.
Elliott reaches into the telescope case and produces Harvey’s sky charts, while Harvey hands him over his new purchase; a small red light flashlight.
He explains it’s to prevent them from having to readjust to the dark every time he has to refer to the charts.
Elliott clicks on the soft red light; his hair temporarily illuminated like a wildfire before pointing it down on the papers.
“Marvellous!” he exclaims, leaning in at the same time Harvey does, both wanting to take a closer look at the maps.
“Ahh, my sincerest apologies,” he chuckles as their shoulders brush, though Harvey notes with a little thrill, that Elliott doesn’t back up.
Neither does he.
“Perhaps,” Harvey begins, swallowing down the nervous butterflies kicking up in his chest, “you can assume the role of navigator to the stars for me tonight? It’s a very important task,” he says with a grin, heart quickening when he realizes Elliott has a droll, dreamy smile plastered on his face in return.
“It would be my greatest honour,” he declares with a light mock-sternness to his tone. “I shall endeavour to faithfully chart our course.”
Those butterflies from earlier feel like a stampede now, as he explains the basics of reading a star chart, drawing Elliott’s attentions to the quadrant of sky they’ll be focusing on tonight.
“I will need you to read out the numbers as I adjust the telescope.”
Elliott nods as they begin.
It takes a few moments of fiddling with the tripod before Harvey is fully satisfied. All the while he continues making minor adjustments to the telescope and lens as they chart the celestial body through the night sky. Soon enough, Harvey finds what he’s looking for.
The planet has a red tint to it, surprisingly vibrant despite its distance, coupled with the modest power of the telescope. He ushers Elliott over with a wave of his hand, moving out of the way so he can take a look.
Harvey remains close as Elliott leans in, his hair falling in curtains around his face as he peeks through the telescope, a soft gasp of wonder escaping his lips. “This is quite inspiring. It makes me want to compose a sonnet or write an ode. Something to capture the memory of this moment and preserve it in my mind forever.”
Elliott stills and looks up at Harvey, who suddenly has a very hard time remembering how to breathe.
His face is close. That gentle half-lidded gaze from earlier has returned, and is aimed directly at him. Harvey doesn’t mean to be so obvious with the way his eyes wander down to his lips, before coming up to meet his expression once more, but it’s like he can’t help it. They look like they would be incredibly soft.
“My good doctor,” he says, low and quiet. “I believe you’re staring.”
Flustered, Harvey tries to recover. “I.. I apologize. I don’t know what came over me. Forgive me for overstepping—”
He’s cut off by the soft press of Elliott’s lips against his.
The kiss is by all accounts chaste – more testing the waters than anything – yet Harvey still melts into it. Elliott smells like sea salt and parchment, tastes like coffee, and feels like home. Like the start of something too big to name.
“I must admit, I have wanted to do that since the early days of summer,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Harvey’s. “I hope you didn’t mind. I thought the signals were present—”
Now it’s Harvey’s turn to cut him off, kissing him back as Elliott chuckles against his lips. This time his arms wrap around Harvey’s waist, and when they come up for air, they don’t let go.
Harvey is about to say something more, but Elliott’s gaze is looking past him, wonder in his eyes as he looks to the skies.
“I think the heavens may approve of this match,” Elliott muses as Harvey joins him in a laugh.
“And I think,” he says as he watches the aurora with Elliott in his arms, “I may have a newfound appreciation for the beach.”