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“What would you like to eat, Travis?” Malcolm picked up two trays, handing one to Hoshi and retaining one himself as Travis hobbled up behind them, a crutch tucked under one arm, the other arm in a sling across his chest.
“I don’t really care. Whatever’s easiest to eat with one hand, I guess.” The young helmsman sounded grumpy, and the look Hoshi shot him evidently made him realise he was sounding ungrateful. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated that I can’t do anything myself, but that’s no reason to take it out on you.”
“It’s not, but we do understand,” Malcolm said sympathetically. “I’ve been stuck with the crutches, too, and to have that compounded by a broken arm at the same time must be hell for you.”
“Yes,” Hoshi agreed, “which is why I’m not biting your head off. Flying is your life, and having to wait for your arm to heal before you can sit at the controls again? I can only imagine the sheer frustration.” She laid a gentle hand on Travis’s unbroken arm before turning back to the food cabinet. “Now - there’s gnocchi, which should be simple enough to eat one-handed, and your favourite apricot chicken, which we can easily cut up for you.” Not even looking, she held up a hand to forestall his objection. “No one is treating you like a child, or an invalid, Travis. We’re helping you because you’re injured, so I don’t want to hear it.”
Travis, who’d indeed opened his mouth to argue, subsided as Malcolm coughed into an elbow to hide his grin. Emerging, the lieutenant arched an eyebrow at him. “You’d better choose wisely. You don’t want Hoshi to lose her temper, do you?” The speaking glance she shot Malcolm had him compressing his lips to hold back an outright laugh, his gaze studiously innocent as she narrowed her eyes at him.
Travis chuckled, his bad mood evaporating at their antics. “You two,” he said affectionately. “Yes please to both your suggestions, Hoshi. I’m not burning off energy at my usual rate, though, so I’ll forego dessert in favour of comfort food.”
“Fair enough.” Hoshi put two plates of apricot chicken and rice on her tray and the gnocchi on Malcolm’s, adding another as he nodded at her. A large salad to share followed, and two bowls of chocolate mousse, before the three made their way across the room to their favoured table in the corner.
Malcolm and Hoshi put down their trays before Hoshi pulled out her preferred seat under the window, at Malcolm’s left. “Take my seat, Travis,” she suggested. “You can turn and stretch out your leg without fear that someone will stumble over it, and at least you’re able to use your right hand to eat.”
“I’ll be sitting with my back to Malcolm, though,” the helmsman said worriedly, glancing between his partners.
Malcolm chuckled. “I think I can live with that in favour of your comfort, love.” The fondness in his voice sent a pleasant burst of warmth through Travis’s chest, and without further discussion he hobbled around the table, handing off his crutch to Hoshi. A strong hand slid beneath his uninjured elbow as Malcolm guided him down and into the chair, his injured leg stretched out straight in front of him, alongside the table, where no one could accidentally bump it.
Having checked that he was comfortable, Hoshi passed behind Malcolm’s chair on her way to Travis’s usual seat, Malcolm courteously pulling out her chair. “I’ll get drinks,” he offered, as she sat. “What would you like?”
“Mango juice mixed with a little water, please,” Hoshi requested. “It’s too thick otherwise.”
Grinning, Travis winked at Malcolm. “I’ll take passion fruit and soda water, please - no need for extra dilution.” Malcolm winked back as Hoshi stuck out her tongue at her partners, squeezing her shoulder as he headed to the dispenser. When he returned, she was busy cutting Travis’s apricot chicken into neat slices. Taking his seat after handing out the drinks, Malcolm dished the salad into three smaller bowls before the three raised their juices to each other.
“To swift healing,” said Hoshi.
“And doing what you love,” Malcolm added, nodding at her in agreement.
“And to partners who care, even when I’m being a grump,” Travis said softly. Smiling, the other two gently tapped their glasses against his before taking a sip.
“It’s unlike you to be a grump, love, which is why we know things must be bad. You’re uncomfortable and frustrated and unhappy.” Picking up his fork, Malcolm laid his other hand on Travis’s wrist reassuringly.
“Yes,” Hoshi agreed, stretching across the table to place her hand on Malcolm’s while touching Travis’s wrist. “You don’t have my temper, or Malcolm’s tendency to brood. You’re our gentle sunshine. So it must be bad for you to be in a bad mood.”
“And I take it out on you because, well—you’re the ones with whom I feel safest,” Travis admitted, then sighed. “Which I know is unfair, but my head says you have to love me so you’ll do it anyway.”
“We do love you, and we’ll keep loving you even when you’re out-of-sorts and snappy and unlike yourself. It’s like kids pushing boundaries; they know their parents love them, so they can.” Hoshi patted Travis’s wrist, then gripped Malcolm’s hand. “Most parents, anyway,” she amended, and Travis turned his own hand to grasp hers and Malcolm’s, squeezing lightly.
Malcolm gazed at both his partners, allowing regret to spill through him at the thought of his emotionally distant father, then smiled at them. “And we can all push boundaries because we know we can rely on each other,” he added. “If you know why you’re doing it, so much the better. Now,” he gestured at the table, “let’s eat before the food gets cold, shall we?”
Their table was visited throughout the meal, concerned members of the crew coming to check up on and commiserate with Travis. By the end of supper, almost everyone not on shift had come to exchange a few words with him, and he was beaming from ear to ear, clearly invigorated by the social engagement.
“Your extrovert battery’s filled right to the brim!” Hoshi commented, and Travis turned his smile on her.
“It is,” he agreed, “and it’s nice to know people care. But,” he glanced at both his partners, “I know it was probably a lot for my ambivert and introvert partners, so maybe it’s time to head for our quarters?”
“We don’t want to cut short your fun, Travis,” Malcolm objected, though his smile was looking a little strained around the edges.
“I’ve had my fun,” Travis reassured him. “And now I want to spend some quiet time with my partners so your social batteries can reach equilibrium. Otherwise neither of you will sleep properly, and we can’t have that.”
As they walked into the corridor, Malcolm and Hoshi letting Travis set the pace, Malcolm looked thoughtful. “Would you like to go straight to your quarters, Travis? I can’t see that it’s going to do you much good to go to one of ours, and then have to hobble back to your own. It’s some distance from either of ours.”
“Well…” Travis hesitated. For all his social tank was filled, his body still craved rest to heal, and he was starting to feel decidedly like he needed to lie down. His partners looked at each other when he didn’t complete his sentence, and moved in closer on either side of him.
“Come on, love,” Hoshi coaxed, using Malcolm’s term of endearment for them. “You need to rest, and unfortunately you won’t be able to do that in our quarters - not for a while yet. The bunks are too small for us to share without hurting you. So let us get you to bed, and we’ll stay and keep you company until you fall asleep.”
Smiling gratefully at their understanding, Travis nodded. “That’s probably the best idea,” he agreed. “Especially if you stay for a while. I won’t be foolish enough to ask if you’re sure; you wouldn’t offer if not.”
“Indeed not.” Malcolm looked affronted at the very thought. “A quiet night in with my two favourite people, after the excitement at supper? Now that sounds like my idea of a good time.”
Without further ado, they made their way to Travis’s cabin, taking their time and chatting idly as they walked, helping keep Travis distracted so he didn’t feel like he was slowing them down. Upon reaching his cabin, they carefully helped him out of his uniform and then guided him into the bathroom to help him wash everywhere he couldn’t reach, with a promise to return the next morning to take him to breakfast.
Ablutions completed, they dressed him in his softest, most comfortable sleepwear and tucked him into bed. Travis submitted to their ministrations without demur, simply enjoying being cared for and pampered by his partners, treated like a precious being deserving of special treatment, even though he was bigger and younger than either of them.
Malcolm and Hoshi pulled up Travis’s armchair close to the bed, dimmed the lights, and bundled into it together, taking turns reading aloud until the helmsman’s breathing slowed into a deep, regular rhythm. Smiling at each other, they closed the book, laying it aside. Malcolm moved the chair out of the way in case Travis wanted to get up during the night, while Hoshi made sure his crutch was within easy reach.
“Good night, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing her lips across Travis’s forehead.
“Sweet dreams, love,” whispered Malcolm, kissing his temple softly.
Taking each other’s hand, they gazed at him fondly for a moment before turning out the lights and quietly leaving the room.
In the darkness of his quarters, Travis smiled in his sleep and murmured their names before the sandman pulled him under once again.