Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used)
Warnings: talk about death
Word count: 1 439
Kobra was kneeling in the sand in the shadow of the diner, his hands skillfully working on the delicate piece of technology resting in his lap. He had spent half of the day on it already, screwing it open, adjusting something, screwing it closed, trying it out, screwing it open again. All just to take his mind off things. Or more precisely: off you.
Yesterday evening he had still argued with you about a trip you had suggested making. Retrieve some information from a tiny BLI outpost out in zone 3. You had suggested to go alone; less people meant the chances to get noticed were lower and all the others had agreed with your plan. Only Kobra had been apprehensive. If something happened to you, there was no one there to help you out, and with two people you were more likely to spot any dangers. He had even offered to come with you himself, unable to bear the idea of something happening to you without him being there helping to prevent it. But you had been stubborn, and gotten the rest of the crew to agree that it was best you should go alone.
That had not stopped Kobra to sit in the front room of the diner all night, knowing you wanted to leave at first light. He had tried staying up, staying awake to catch you when you left, to convince you to let him join you. By Destroya, he did not need to convince you, he just would have tagged along, no matter what you would have said. But it seemed like he had fallen asleep, his chin dropped to his chest, because when he came to, the sun had already risen, and running outside, he found your bike missing. He had not even woken up to the sound of your motor.
Now, as he sat in the shadow, late afternoon sun drawing long shadows over the desert, he could not help but feel sick. Sick and helpless. He knew that if he had followed you, maybe hours after you had left, he would have endangered you, and still he could not shake the feeling he should have gone after you. Considering the distance and the theoretical simplicity of the plan, you should have been back hours ago, latest around noon. But still your bike was missing, there were no transitions on the radio, neither from you nor from anyone who had seen you, and Kobra could not shake the feeling that something horrible had happened to you.
He hated this, this feeling of helplessness, this waiting, the knowledge that you were out there, and did not even know how badly he needed you to return. Over the time you had already spent with the fabulous Killjoys, Kobra had grown attached to you, more than he had initially suspected.
It was not just a passing crush, he knew how crushes were for him; he had plenty of experience with them. They came suddenly, swallowing him whole, and keeping him dizzy for a few days or weeks, before disappearing almost as suddenly as they had appeared.
But with you it was so different.
It had started slowly, taking care of you when you had had a nightmare, or after you had been injured. Yet as time passed, his affection and focus on you grew. He found himself making sure you ate and drank enough, thinking about you all the time, wondering how to make you laugh, or when he was on a supply run, if there was something he could bring back to you as a little gift to cheer you up, maybe even get you to hug him.
At first he had not even noticed how close he was to you all the time, be it sitting next to you during meals, or while riding in the car, or stepping in front of you protectively if there was a conflict with other Killjoys. It felt natural to him, to always be close to you, and if he was not, he like he could not breath properly, but you had never commented on it or complained when he was close to you. Now the suffocating feeling in his chest increased by the minute. He would not know what to do without you here. He needed you to come back to him, alive and preferably unharmed. He could not take it if you did not.
Dropping the screwdriver into the sand next to him, he rubbed his eyes. The sun was dipping everything in red and golden light, and if he tried focusing really hard, he could even see the dust your bike was kicking up as you rode back to the diner, could even hear the sound of the motor-
No. This was not his imagination. Unless Kobra had gone completely mad, there really was a motorbike approaching the diner, and he would recognize the sound of your bike anywhere. Quickly Kobra got up, not caring that the little machine he had worked on the whole day tumbled from his lap into the sand. Like in a trance Kobra stepped out into the evening sun, watching as you came closer and closer. Soft wind tucked on his hair, blowing the bleached strands around his face. He stood frozen as he impatiently waited for the moment he could wrap his arms around you. His heart was beating hard in his chest; just a few minutes ago he had been almost certain that you were dead, but there you were, lifting a hand in greeting as you drove past him, straight to the garage, where you kept the bikes.
For a moment Kobra stared at the point where you had disappeared in the small shed, the only proof that you really had been returned being the dust your bike had kicked up, before he ran after you, almost slipping in the sand. When he reached the door, you had already climbed off your bike, and taken the helmet of. Hearing him approach, you turned and grinned at him.
"I got all the information we need," you grinned, patting your jacket, where you probably had stored the documents you had set out to steal.
Your clothing seemed intact, making Kobra suspect you were uninjured, just dust coating the leatherjacket and parts of your face where you seemed to have taken off the helmet in between.
Kobra wanted to say something, about how reckless it had been to go on your own, about how glad he was you were back, about how worried he had been. But words failed him entirely, and even thinking seemed not to work anymore, so all he did was stumble forwards, grabbing your face in both of his hands and press his lips to yours.
He could feel your surprise, tensing up for a moment, and it was enough to throw him back to reality, to remind him that from your perspective one of your best friends had just kissed you without any warning or indication that it was something he had wanted to do, but before he could pull away, you had already wrapped your arms around him, and pressed closer to him, kissing him back. In that moment everything else stopped mattering to Kobra, because after all this time of pining for you so hopelessly you were kissing him back, one of your hands playing with his hair, your smell, your taste all he could really register in that moment. He felt like he was drowning in you, but at the same time like he was taking his first breath, and when you pulled away, he was overly aware that he had a stupid, dazed grin on his face. And he did not care at all.
"What was that for," you asked teasingly, but at the same time almost timidly.
Kobra shrugged, feeling your hand still toying with the short hair in his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.
"Just- I thought I wouldn't see you again," he admitted, his voice raspy.
"Well, I certainly don't mind such a welcome if it's coming from you," you grinned, making his cheeks heat up, as his dark eyes watched you fondly.
"I was worried, you wouldn't come back," Kobra continued, feeling like he still had not explained himself properly. "I couldn't bare it if you didn't."
"That's not something you need to worry about," you whispered, getting on your tiptoes to press your forehead to his. "I'll always find my back to you."
And before Kobra had completely understood what your words meant, you had already pulled him into another breath-taking kiss.