One Giant Leap

by Kay Simone

I wanted a universe where two men could make one giant leap of faith and come out on top.

“Take a deep breath and solve a problem.”

Solving a problem had helped. It really had.

“Well good evening, Patrick Harte,” Curt says, bright.

And it’s not your fault that it fills you up. We evolved to do this — to make use of everything we see and to process it all — so even when you don’t realize you’re doing it, you’re taking it in.

There’s relief in that. I am no longer my accomplishments or my failures. I am no more important than any one molecule that makes me up — and my identity, my memories, my experiences, my shortfalls are a story that I invent on the fly every moment of my life

“Bad with sunrises, good with sass,” Curt says. “I take back what I said before. You’ll make a fine CAPCOM.”

“Oh, I just wanted your CAPCOM to see that not everybody in mission control is fucking geriatric,” Allan says, shrugging a little.

“I have a whole Pinterest board back home for zero-gravity hair,” K.C. says.

“Just fuck me up on egg rolls,” Amal says.

“And yeah, just fuck us up on egg rolls,” Curt says.

Patrick can’t imagine anyone wanting to see him at the landing.

Curt Larkin was Patrick’s very first crush.

He’ll find out his CAPCOM was a fanboy freak the whole time.

It’s like he didn’t know how much he wanted to know about Patrick until he realized at this moment how very little he’s starting with.

“I chose a hell of a day to return from the dead,” Wyatt says, sighing and massaging the bridge of his nose.

For so long Curtis has held his entire world within the boundaries of his own body. And now, abrupt and inexplicable, he feels a piece of himself down there. In Houston.

It’s stupid to think that someone so intelligent and so sensitive would be walking through life alone. Loneliness like that is, Curt thinks, reserved for assholes who have nicknames like “Launchpad.”

The laugh that bubbles up out of Curt’s chest is warm and pleasant and uncontrollable and he doubles over as he laughs. It’s just absurd. He’s up here chiding himself for thinking about the kid and here he is,

calling space from home just to check up. It’s impossible. It’s ludicrous.

“I wasn’t going to be able to sleep unless I talked to you.” The admission makes something go funny in Curt’s chest,

“I lived on Indian food for the whole of my undergraduate career. I can handle spice.”

They’d still see each other around Mission Control — and though their friendship really wouldn’t extend beyond the boundaries of NASA property, that would be enough for Patrick.

The guy continues to be a thorn in my side. But it’s not like I can blame him for the hateful headlines. (Wicked grin) Must be scary to suddenly see yourself represented as a minority for the first time in your whole life.

“You’re hearing the sound of cheeseburger notes.”

Curt almost has to fight tears at that statement. He cannot believe that Patrick lives in a world where he’s not routinely told how wonderful he is — how extraordinary. His depth of thought — and thoughtfulness. His dedication. How can he make Patrick see that without gushing?

“Humanity is nothing without the individuals who make it up,” Patrick says.

Well. Love is love.

“You know, I think we’re all a little in love with Curt, if it makes you feel any better,” she says through a smile.

“I’m in love with the CAPCOM,” he blurts.

“I know. I’m fucked. I’m completely fucked. I don’t even know what he looks like.” “Oh Curt you sweet, terrible man.”

“It’s not just you,” she says. “It’s like he doesn’t have a filter. It’s very refreshing, actually, to talk to someone that unguarded.” “Refreshing isn’t the word for it,” Curt says. “It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. It’s goddamn intoxicating.”

“Well, I’m not here to play orbital matchmaker,” she says. “You should probably cut out the middle man and tell him how you feel.”

He could not be more disappointed with himself — with who he is and who he pretends to be and how vastly different those two realities are.

He knows that Curt is far from infallible. He is the one person who makes Curt feel understood and known. He needs Patrick.

Eventually everyone tended to see it — whether they were friends or boyfriends or coworkers. Patrick tries too hard for too long and people just... well, they get tired of having him around.

It would be easy to let himself keep spiraling into self-loathing. But Patrick hasn’t made it this far dwelling on his failed social life, family life, romances. He’s a CAPCOM now and he’s doing a decent job — that is what’s important about Patrick Harte. Not friends or lovers. He begins to tick down the list of validating facts about his career.

No, Patrick would not be allowed to become an astronaut with a persistent vestibular disorder — but he would not walk through life without giving a job at NASA his very best shot.

Curt realizes now that he was already building a life with Patrick inside of his head — and a great part of that life included being able to protect Patrick, to care for him, to show him what a great wonder he is and to make him feel valued and loved and appreciated. Because no, he hadn't told Patrick yet, and yes, maybe he's been misinterpreting everything about the talks that they've shared — but even if Patrick doesn't want him when Curt is back on earth, Curt has decided that he will be there for Patrick. His friend, his coworker, his companion — and more if Patrick will let him.

They’re probably spoiling him rotten and making him watch my mom’s Bollywood DVD collection.”

"It's not about Jeanne. It's about Patrick. I really really care about him.

He finds himself drifting towards the backyard, as if pulled by an invisible tether. Patrick doesn't resist it, stepping out onto the porch, down the stairs, walking until he feels grass under the soles of his feet, his eyes drawn upwards and -- The stars. That's what his mind wanted.

"Allan, what in the everloving fuck is Sherman Wolfe doing in Mission Control?" "His job, I assume," Allan shoots back. "I can't keep splitting Lydia's job over two officer positions. And he understands the role." "I ought to," Wolfe says. "This'll be my third mission as CAPCOM." "Why are you still on the line?" Curt asks. "Why wouldn't I be?" "Privacy? My sanity?"

😂😂

"So you got a thing for this kid or what, Larkin?"

"Patrick Harte," Curt says. "Do you have any idea how much this asshole in space missed you, kid? 'Nice to hear your voice' does not begin to cover it." Patrick laughs. Curt is gazing seriously into the monitor. "Yeah, I heard you and Sherman Wolfe didn't exactly get along famously." Curt shakes his head. "I didn't miss you because of how much I hated having to deal with Wolfe," Curt clarifies. "I missed you because I missed you, Patrick."

Omg 🥹🥹

"I really like you, Patrick." Patrick puffs out a laugh. "I really like you, Curt. Is that what you wanted to tell me?" "That's not — you're not hearing me, kid. I'm falling for you. I've got a thing for you, I'm — choose whatever euphemism you'd like here, I guess but --" "You're kidding."

Ahhh finally!!!

How could Curt fall for someone he's never met?

"What do we do now?" Patrick asks. Curt laughs softly. "I wish I knew," Curt says. "If you figure it out, be sure to tell me." "You're back in five days." "I am." "And then what happens?"

"Then I want to see you," Curt says. "Immediately and as often as you'll let me."

The comms unit goes quiet, and the earth spins below — the same planet as it had been half an hour ago with an entirely different meaning, now, to the commander.