mission sims and missing cues
a continuation of my self-indulgent boarding school au
A/N; i am so in love with this au.. I've got like two other fics for this ay in the works. lmk if yall want more of this-- totally did not expect this to be this long but I mean that's okay. also thanks to lilly and elliot for just being motivation to finish this-- and thank YOU for all the love on my writing cause holy fucking mother of gOD there's 110 of you now?? what??
summary; reader and wilbur are close friends and classmates but both have feelings for each other without the other knowing! they're thrown into a mission simulation together as commander and pilot and slight flirting ensues.
tw// swearing, maybe a smidge of suggestive flirting, definitely thoughts
words; 6.3k
pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader
pronouns; they/them and use of y/n!
masterlist
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You loved every part of your school, you loved the classes, the teachers, and the activities but you couldn't help but favor the Mission Simulations above all else.
They were the most laid-back part of your academics, and it was a hands on experience that you could have any part in. You had the opportunity to do anything and everything with positions and experience and outcome.
Although you were truly partial to being commander, you didn't mind any other position you found yourself in. Missions usually spanned around a week but in sessions. First two sessions would be training, and test runs, the third session would start the first half of the mission running about three hours and then the second half would be in the fourth session. You absolutely adored how they did this and found you got the most out of it, a real feeling for the position and role you'd be in and you could make a decision on if you liked it or not—and if you wanted to try the same position on a different mission another time.
Today's session was the first half, a three-hour run of the school's Mars Mission Sim and you had gotten the commander position. Your pilot being Wilbur. He was rather ecstatic about his role, only been put in mission specialist or station roles before—he was excited to be front and center in the mission, though it didn't really matter, he was just excited for a change of pace.
"So, have you come up with a 'first human on Mars' speech or do you need me to come up with it?" Wilbur is snarky in a playful way in the tone he uses, tossing a hash brown into his mouth as he watches you from the other side of the cafeteria table. You roll your eyes at him and fold your arms over your chest.
"Well, no-" He cuts you off.
"Good! I've come up with one!" He starts by standing up in a grandiose manner, not paying mind to any of the students on other teams staring at him.
"One step for humankind, one great step for alien kind!" He makes exaggerated steps, only a few before your crew trainer, Andy, looks over at Wilbur with this gaze of 'please sit down or I'm telling Evan' and he's quick to find his seat back in front of you.
"You're one of my favorites Wilbur, but you should be in drama school," Andy scoffs, looking down at his tray before standing and walking away to take care of it. Your gaze follows him before landing back on Wilbur in front of you. His elbow rested on the table and his eyes look past you.
You hum, "He's right, you should've applied to drama school instead," Then you shrug, chuckling to yourself as Wilbur's gaze lands onto you, turned into a playful glare.
"And miss out on the opportunity to steal my brother's best friend away from him? Never." His eyes shine with a playfulness to them, and he smirks.
"So I'm just a pawn?" You put your hand over your heart in mock offense, a smirk of your own curling on your lips.
"Oh yes, just a pawn,"
Andy finds his way back to his spot, and he opens his teacher's binder to check the schedule, "I don't want to know what you two are talking about, do I?" He doesn't look up as he adjusts his glasses and sifts through the different pages.
"Wilbur says I'm just a pawn," You tell him and Wilbur gawks at you, offended at how quickly you told on him.
Andy looks up and ahead and then at you and then back at Wilbur, eyebrows knitted together and concern glazing over his irises, "Pawn in what?"
"My master plan to steal them away from Tech," Wilbur speaks nonchalantly, his glare dissipating and turning into a look of pride.
Andy hums, looks over at Wilbur and says, "Good luck with that." His attention is brought back to his binder before checking the time on his phone. He begins ushering the team to finish up with their meal, take care of their trays and stand in front of the glass wall just a few feet behind you when they're done.
"First one to the wall gets to say the first words on Mars," Wilbur smiles at you, eyes glinting with mischief and you can tell by his body language, he's ready to sprint.
"Okay, fine," You shrug and let him get a head start, subtly speed-walking over to clean up his meal, and take care of his tray. Although, subtly isn't the most accurate descriptor, his legs are long enough all he has to do is take longer strides and he can beat you almost immediately. You take your time, walking normally and then speeding up for a second, but you're still behind. Wilbur looks behind him at you and frowns.
"Why are you walking?" He tilts his head at you, stopping in his tracks.
"I don't want to win," You shrug at him, taking a few steps forward and follow behind him in line.
"Why not?" He's still facing you, his back towards the front of the line and you both put the tray's on the counter, taking care of the dishes and trash and putting them in their respective spots. Plastics, paper, plates, utensils, etc.
"Everyone will hear me and only a drama queen like yourself should get to say it," You smile lightly at your own comment, and you're out of line a moment later. You both stand by the exit of the short hall, the glass wall a few feet away from you both.
"You're such a pussy," He smiles and shakes his head as he runs off over to the glass wall, and you follow, yelling after him.
"Wilbur!" You grumble as you follow him, hot on his heels and of course, he's the first at the wall, his hand pressed against the glass and he sticks his tongue out at you, "You can't say that!"
He smirks, leaning down closer to your face teasingly and your breath hitches in your throat, "And why not?"
You huff, moving to stand against the wall next to him instead of in front of him. You fold your arms over your chest and tilt your head up to meet his eyes, an annoyed glare filling your own, "You could get us both in trouble with that language, mister."
He leans down again, "Doesn't sound like a horrible idea, at least we'll be in trouble together," He smirks slightly, attempting to avert your attention from how pink his cheeks are, and how nervous his breath is.
"Wilbur," You warn, poking his chest and he giggles, leaning against the glass wall with you as you both wait for the rest of your team to meet you.
The rest of the kids take their time with meeting everyone else at the glass wall, both you and Wilbur growing anxious at how long it was taking. You tilt your head forward to look down the line for Tommy, making sure he isn't causing any mayhem too great for Andy. And then you lean back when you see he's just talking with his friends.
It seems that both you and Wilbur found yourselves at the front of the line, the rest of your classmates assumingly lining behind you both as a buffer between them and their crew trainer. To keep Andy from hearing the things they say, probably. He's heard it all from you and Wilbur, so he's far from bothered by whatever stupid thing one of you may say next.
It's a few moments and then he's at the front of the line, leading the hoard of kids down the ramp and around the corner in front of the training room. As per usual, only you and Wilbur are the ones in a proper line and it doesn't surprise anyone. Everyone else could care less and it didn't bother you or Will to speak to each other without facing one another. Plus, if anyone got in trouble for taking up too much space, at least it wouldn't be you or him.
Andy stops the group at the fence blocking off the training room and he tells everyone to stay put as he leaves to go into the back and talk to the trainers running today's mission. You and Wilbur decide to take a spot by the wall, and sit on the floor. You're squeezed up against him slightly, the rest of the group causing you both to get a bit squished. You do your best to hide the red that begins to crawl up your cheeks, looking away from him in hopes he won't notice. He does the same, without you knowing. Both of you are desperately trying to hide any inkling at the feelings you both harbor for one another. Letting that truth through creates vulnerability and being jokingly flirtatious is easy. It can be brushed off as a playful platonic joke. So why not be flirty and break your own hearts at the thought of unrequited feelings?
"You think they trained us enough?" Wilbur breaks the deafening silence with a playful question, mouth quirking up into a half smile, half smirk. His eyes glint with something you can't quite place.
You huff a laugh, "Do you think you paid attention enough?" You turn your head to face him, smile soft but mischievous. You lean against the wall, trying to subtly slink yourself a bit away from him. You don't really want to be away from him and his touch, but it makes you nervous and you don't want to make him uncomfortable. But you don't move, you can't make it obvious. He doesn't mind the touch either, but he too fears the possibility of making you uncomfortable.
"Hm, I think I have a decent grasp on the concept. It's just button pressing and reading lines, right?" Wilbur nudges your shoulder with his, a soft laugh of his own rolling off his lips, ones held in a smirk.
"Oh, you think it's that simple, pretty boy?" You try your best to hide the pink of your cheeks, plotting a response if he asks. For a brief moment he simply looks at you, mouth slightly agape before he shuts it, bringing back his previous smirk.
"Well, that's what it seemed to be, so I'd say it's pretty simple," He brushes past the use of the pet name and he looks away, a nervous smile replacing the smirk as he looks down at his lap. Oh, he's infatuated and dear god—he wanted nothing more than to fall out of love, out of the feelings he felt. They weren't reciprocated, and any point he may have thought they were, could easily be shut down by the excuse of playful jokes.
"Well, we'll see about that," You push up to stand, catching your eye on Andy and another trainer walking over to the team. He makes the motion to move along and follow him with his hand and so you jump to stand behind him, Wilbur following suit.
The group is led around the corner and into the mission control room. Everyone's instructed to put their backpacks and whatnot on the table far behind the rows of desks. Both you and Wil put yours down on the far end, next to each other's and your shoulders brush together when the rest of the group pushes towards you both. You try to shuffle backwards, but hit the wall that separates the rest of the room to the trainer's desk. Wilbur puts his hand on the small of your back, and guides you to stand in front of him when you get startled by the wall. He rests his hands on either side of your upper arms. You know you're blushing, you know it's obvious but you just hope he doesn't see or doesn't care or doesn't notice and—
"Alright, Andromeda, everyone split into your groups of who goes where and a space ghost will lead you out to your positions, alright?" Andy speaks over the loud conversations of everyone in the group, his hands cupping around his mouth to somehow assist in making his voice louder and heard.
You and Wilbur stay in your place, Tommy, Ash, Niki and James join you both in your corner. Tommy starts chattering about his position and Wilbur is quick to shush his younger brother, and Tommy grumbles in response, crossing his arms and huffing.
The six of you are silent as you await instructions, and another trainer comes over to your group, muttering something about following her and so you do, you first, Wilbur behind and then the rest in a clump behind him. It's barely a few feet around the corner to the capsule. The trainer walking in first, ducking in through the doorway. She stands over to the corner, letting the rest of you walk in and find your seats. Wilbur attempts to duck down but still manages to bump his head, holding back a few obscenities that would definitely get him in trouble.
You chuckle at the sight and he keeps his head ducked down as he finds his spot at his seat. He buckles in the best he can, and then the trainer tells him off, reminds him he has to put his suit on first. He grumbles to himself, and turns around out of his chair and joins the rest of you as you put on the white painters jumpsuits over your normal clothes. Light costume astronaut boots being put on your feet and velcroed in.
You look over at Wilbur and catch your eye on him as he struggles, trying to get his sleeves to pull down all the way, same with his pants legs. You huff a laugh at the sight, "Don't worry about it," You shake your head at him and adjust his collar, hands lingering on his chest before pulling them away to rest at your sides.
His eyes go wide in a playful way, lips curling into a slight smirk, trying to hold some semblance of a fearful gaze, "I could die, y/n!"
You huff a laugh, turning away from him and sitting in your commander's seat, him following and sitting in the seat opposite you, "You, die? Yeah you're too stubborn for that," You open the small binder you were given and review it as you wait for the signal to start, a clarification from every position that they too are ready.
Wilbur follows suit and you swear you see him gaze at you from the corner of your eye. You smile softly and pretend you don't notice, "Wilbur?"
He hums, looking up from his book for a moment and he looks to you, a quizzical look on his features, "Yes?"
You nod your head towards the comms, "Joe asked for confirmation from you, pilot,"
"Oh!" Wilbur rushes to put his headset on, and presses the speak button, "Roger that SOCOM," He rests his head back against the headrest, sighing.
"Alright, I'll leave you guys to it. Remember the call buttons if you need anything at all, okay?" The crew trainer assigned to the Orion capsule then leaves out the door, being sure to get a verbal confirmation or a thumbs up from each of you.
"You'll do fine, Wilbur," You reassure him, going about various procedures, buttons and switches being turned on or off. Codes being entered and lines of numbers and codes being typed out on the screen.
"You think so?" His voice shakes, unsure of himself as he flips switches along with you, referencing his binder every few seconds.
You nod, "I know so," It's all you need to say as you press the last few buttons before the computer switches the simulation to launch. Voices muffled in your ear as you focus intently on what's needed to do next, when you get into Altair.
It's a few minutes of launch and then the program switches to a screen showing the stars and planets passing by. More switches need flipping and more buttons need pressing. You glance over to your right at Wilbur, his eyebrows knitted in concentration and anxiety. His finger skims the lines of words and instructions in his binder.
"You alright there, Wil?" You put down your book, keeping your eyes locked on him.
"Uh, yeah, fine, fine," He keeps his gaze locked on the pages before him.
You revert your gaze back to your own work, still checking on him in the corner of your eye every once and a while. Everyone in the capsule was ahead of schedule, all buttons pressed and switches flipped so all you had to do now was respond to Mission Control and wait for docking. Wilbur's leg had started to bounce by this point and he was biting his tongue. His hands kept running through his hair and he seemed oddly stressed for a simple simulation. If you could stand up and walk over to him, you would. But you're buckled in (more like strapped in since there were no buckles and both you and Wilbur were insistent that you were secure in your seats), you couldn't unbuckle yourself and walk over to him, risking an unnecessary anomaly.
So, you reached your hand over to his shoulder, having to lean to your side to even reach him in the first place. His head shot up to look at you, eyebrows creased in a wrinkling worry and mouth drawn in a thin line.
"Are you okay?" It was merely a whisper, only meant to be heard by you and him. It was intimate and private and your eyes were soft as they looked into his. He didn't know what to do with himself, the amount of care you showed him was overwhelming. His heart racing with anxiety and nervousness.
His face flushed pink, "Yes-"
You cut him off, tapping his leg that bounces and hits the console a few times with how lanky he is, "Your leg says otherwise," You smile softly to him, the softness matching your gaze.
"I'm okay," He tries looking away, up at the screen and he watches the digital stars. The white dots scattered on black in the monitor before him.
You rub his shoulder gently, "Can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."
He sits there, fidgeting with his hands in his lap, eyes closing shut and a deep breath being taken, and then his head turns to face you, "What if I mess it all up?"
You smile, shaking your head, "That's not possible, I promise you won't," You pat his shoulder gently, soft and assuring smile held on your lips.
"What if I press the wrong button? Or don't get secured well enough? Or what if I mess up the O2 transfer, or--"
You cut him off, squeezing his shoulder gently. Mission Control is sure to be watching this all, but most are probably running around chasing someone so the thought isn't bothersome to you or Wilbur. The camera can't catch the light pink tinted on either of your cheeks anyways.
"I'll be right there to help, you're not alone. It's a job for both of us, if one of us goes down we both do. Triumphantly," Your thumb rubs over his shoulder, back and forth in a manner of comfort and consolation.
"They need their commander more-"
You shake your head, "They need their pilot too," When the closeness is overwhelming, you back up, ruffling up his hair and finding your spot back in your seat, "Now, relax and ask MOCR if they're like, dead yet."
Wilbur smiles, wider now and he shakes his head with a light chuckle.
"Part of me hopes they're dead."
"Wilbur!" You scold him, smiling wide. The rest of the Orion crew is in their own world, not paying mind to you and Wilbur's bickering.
"Okay, not Joe, the rest though--" He cuts himself off with a giggle and presses the speak button on his coms box, "Mission Control, how is it over there?"
There's a crackle in your headphones and Joe speaks over the mic, "What do you think, Wilbur?"
"Ey, it's Pilot to you," Wilbur, while speaking with a stern tone, is smiling wide. Joe huffs and a scream is heard muffled behind him, "How bad?"
"Zombies, Wil, zombies," Joe sounds tired, exasperated and he leaves his mic on accidentally and there's a shuffle heard and more yelling.
"ZOMBIES??" Tommy yells and the entire capsule bursts out laughing, you, Ash, Wilbur, James, Niki-- Tommy just stands there oblivious as you all listen to the chaos in Mission Control.
"I didn't know there were zombies," Niki speaks up, giggling and sifting through her own guide book.
"I hope at least Mark survives," James then pipes up, and shrugs.
"What about the rest?" You ask him, turning in your chair to look back at him.
"Eh, they can get eaten alive," Everyone's heads spin to look at him and James simply shrugs.
"James!" You scold him, "You are both children," You look between both James and Wil as you speak and then you turn back to face the screen in front of you.
The speaker crackles again, "Docking is in five minutes, Orion," Joe sounds out of breath as he speaks, "You're on your own for now, half of my crew is dying,"
"Thank God," James mutters and Ash smacks his shoulder.
"James! Your mic is on!" Ash glares at his friend, huffing.
"Yeah, that's the point,"
Joe grumbles and his mic cuts off, now no longer any inkling as to what's happening in Mission Control, the six of you sit in silence, waiting for docking to complete.
"I don't want to jinx it--" Tommy begins speaking but he's then cut off by the rest of you yelling;
"NO!" in unison.
And then he draws his mouth in a thin line and crosses his arms, puffing his chest.
Silence blankets the air, and then a clicking is heard through the loudspeakers.
"Docked!" Ash calls out and Wilbur instructs everyone to unbuckle and follow you through to Altair. You crawl through the 'airlock' door between yours and Wil's stations and slip into the Altair capsule. Wilbur follows you, bumping his head on both sides of the airlock and then again when he stands. You giggle at him as you shuffle to find all the mic boxes and helmets and set them aside for landing.
"I'm not sure how you passed the first Astronaut evaluation-- You're much too tall for this job," You playfully poke at Wilbur and he rolls his eyes, finding his spot at the front of the room, by another control board. He puts on his headset, gesturing for you to do the same and then the rest of your crew all files into the capsule.
"They needed someone decently charismatic," He smirks smugly, looking through his guidebook again, landing on the page for Altair arrival and he begins the usual routine of button presses and switches.
"You? Charismatic? Yeah, no, they just felt bad for you," You chuckle to yourself, and he drops his hands from the control board in front of him, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to him, his eyes locked on you.
"You are so mean to me," He shakes his head, eyes still on you and your cheeks dusted pink. You averted your gaze from him, down at the control board.
"All in a day's work," You shuffle through your own book, pressing buttons and entering codes.
"Stop flirting, you two," James chirps up, rolling his eyes and messing with the screen in the far back.
You both turn bright red, focusing your gazes heavily on the control board in front of you, doing your best to ignore the words from your friends mouth. Tommy, Ash and Niki, find their own spots on the floor against the wall--James is too stubborn to join them and determined to stand as long as he needs to before landing.
"James, just sit," Niki is stern and pats the spot next to her. James looks over, watching her and shaking his head.
"I'm fine up here, Niki," He looks through his own guidebook now, nothing new for him to do.
"Alright, well, suit yourself," Niki shrugs, looking across at Tommy and Ash and striking conversation with them both.
You continue glancing over at Wilbur, his eyes intently focused on screens and buttons and words typed on a page. His face contorted into a focused gaze and it's endearing. Watching him so focused, working in a way. He's in his element--while you can't deny he's meant for music, something about him being in this STEM environment fits. A leadership role. If you weren't so bad at communication and speaking clearly, you would've immediately opted for Pilot--Commander was simply made for him. But then again, so was the position of speaking and commanding and communicating--and wow, he's so pretty.
A few stray curls fall onto his forehead as his head tilts down to get a closer look at a separate screen, finger running over the words next to the O2 symbol. He's rolled up the sleeves on his jumpsuit, and he's stuffed a pen he grabbed, in his hair on top of his ear.
You catch yourself staring and look away before he can notice, and when you look back at your crew, they all look away as if they were staring too. Probably at you, and most likely going to gossip later. You huff and squeeze through to the back, grabbing helmets and mic sets, handing one by one to each person. James first, since he's closest to you, then Niki, then Ash and lastly Tommy. He huffs, mumbling something about how he's obviously your least favorite. Which isn't true by any means, but the child insists.
And then you hand Wilbur his, and he nods to you, a curt smile on his lips in thanks. Your stomach flips and your cheeks burn but you shake it away.
A few more moments and Mission Control comes through the coms again, Joe sounding stressed and out of breath, "Landing procedure will begin shortly, please put your helmets on and secure your suits. Thank you," And then his voice cuts out again and Wilbur shrugs before pressing his coms button, responding with a short 'roger that'.
All of you begin readjusting your suits and hooking up your comms. Wilbur rolls his sleeves back down and to you that's slightly disappointing--but it's better than him 'dying' so you suck it up for the sake of the mission. James struggles with his helmet, grumbling and Niki giggles, helping him slide it on and secure it around his collar. He mutters something about it being stupidly difficult but you can't entirely hear. Your focus is on the boy in front of you, stumbling with his comms box as he clips it onto his belt and then he puts on his own helmet. Yours has already been put on and is perfectly adjusted. You'd be a liar if you said your suit was too small--it was much too long. So you had to roll the sleeves and pants legs to make it so you didn't trip.
Wilbur struggles with the collar, fidgeting with it to get it to sit right, over the lip of his helmet. You hum, walking over to him, "Need any help?"
He nods, "Dear god, yes."
You smile softly and help flatten his collar and pull it up over the lip of his helmet. You fasten it in the back after ushering him to turn around and kneel a bit so you can reach. He turns around after you pat his back, facing you and smiling softly. Your hands linger on his chest for a moment, fingers messing with the edges of his collar to put it in its final place.
Wilbur speaks up, "Thank you," He smiles softly and you pull your hands away, eyes looking away and face turning a light pink.
"Anytime there, Wilbur," You turn to face the control panel, flipping the final switches before you all get the okay to step out.
Wilbur steps out first, freezes and mumbles "Mars, a new frontier," and the entire crew bursts into fits of giggles--Wilbur included.
You walk up to him, pat him on the shoulder and look up at him, smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth, "You regret making that deal, yet?"
He looks back to you, eyes wide with anxiety, "Perhaps," and he ushers you to the dome base just a few steps aside. You step through, the rest of your crew following like a line of ducklings. You all get settled in at your stations, familiarizing yourself with where things are and what things do what.
It's calm and quiet, just waiting on further instructions from Mission Control when you and Wilbur decide waiting is for the weak. You both head out the door, over to Altair and begin oxygen transfer.
The plan is simple: connect the hoses to the oxygen tanks, begin the transfer at the computer and move it over to the base and repeat. It's a two person job, one manning the computer and the other with the tanks. There's a computer inside the base for transferring the O2 onto the base from Altair.
"So, I'll go on computer?" Wilbur asks as you both stop outside the doors to the dome, you look up at him. Eyes soft and you nod.
"That was our plan, right?" You smile smugly and Wilbur rolls his eyes, walking off and into Altair. You get the hoses connected and then Wilbur yells out;
"Ready?"
"Ready!" Your reply is loud, enough for him to hear but to not bother anyone else in the simulation room.
There's a simulated sound of hissing and the O2 transfers, a few moments pass and then you switch to the base and repeat everything you just did but in reverse, to empty it into the base's reservoir.
As you wait for the O2 to empty out, your mind begins to run off on its own accord. Wondering about Wilbur, if he's noticed any of your nervous glances, or the way your cheeks turn pink or red when he smiles--how you stared at him at his first volleyball game a few weeks back. Your dad told you off with a laugh--but it was hard to look anywhere but him. Anywhere but his ar-
You cut your thoughts short, bringing yourself back to reality when the O2 shuts off, and then you drug it back over to Altair. You looked around and noticed Wilbur wasn't in sight, nowhere near the base or by the computer--maybe he was inside of Altair, at the computer, waiting for you. You dropped the key to the O2 tanks and walked around the corner, sneaking into the door of Altair. No sign of the lanky nerd called Wilbur--you groaned in annoyance, hitting your head on the air lock opening when you stepped into the lander.
You shuffled yourself over to the computer, pressing a few buttons to get the transfer ready and you went back out; connected the tanks and went back in to press the final button for this transfer.
It was merely a waiting game as you patiently awaited the transfer to complete--if you were honest it was more impatient than anything, but no one needs to know that. You got bored, and partly frustrated and so you walked off while the tank filled and you went into the base.
"Okay, has anyone seen my Pilot? He's went missing and it's really difficult to transfer these," You wave your hands in frustration, "these, tanks!"
Tommy scoffs, Niki giggles and Ash closes the plexiglass door to the solitary bed James is laying in.
"Haven't seen him, sorry," Niki is the first to speak, going about her business grabbing medications and other things and handing them off to Ash.
"Not even an inkling?"
"Nope," They all answer you at once, shaking their heads or shrugging. James' nope is muffled behind the plexiglass.
You groan and turn on your heels, dramatically exiting out the double doors. You drag yourself back into Altair, shutting off the transfer and continuing your previous routine, desperately looking for Wil as you do so.
"Y/n! I found it!" The familiar accent breaks through and you turn around to face him, a wide smile plastered on his lips and a small Mars Rover in his arms. He holds it up, smile still wide and warm.
"So that's where you disappeared off to?" You smile back, so soft and partially teasing. You fold your arms over your chest.
He nods wildly, "Yup! I'm gonna go fix it, I'll be right back out to help, okay?" Wilbur begins walking off and into the base, you chuckle to yourself shaking your head.
"You better, Wil!" You call back, desperately trying to hide the fluttering in your chest and the pink on your cheeks. There's no evident reason for your reaction other than just…him.
A few moments later and he's back out of the base, letting it loose on the floor and walking over to you. He pats your shoulder and slips into the lander, his legs sticking out for a few moments before he pulls himself all the way in. An ouch is heard along with a bang and you giggle.
"I'm okay!" He yells out, and you shake your head.
"It's already done, Wilbur!" You call out, the four words having been delayed by you until he got into the lander--just to mess with him.
You hear him huff and then slink out of the lander airlock. He takes a few steps down the ladder and walks over to you, "I dislike you right now," He holds a fake frown on his features, but his eyes are soft.
"Dislike is a strong word there, Gold," You smirk, arms folding over your chest again and eyes looking up, locking on his.
"Hm, it fits," He shrugs and turns on his heel, walking over to the satellite board, he stops and looks back at you, "Can you get the box underneath the medical bed? We need the pieces to fix this," If you didn't know better, you would've sworn he heard your thoughts back in Orion--maybe he did.
"I don't remember your role being commander?" You walk over to him, leaning against the board, a wave of confidence shooting through you.
"Might as well be," His lips curling into a smirk as he speaks, soft and quiet, "I'm better at taking lead, aren't I?"
This fucker-- You scoff, smirking to yourself and walking off into the base. You rub your hands on your face in an attempt to rid your cheeks of its burning redness and James looks over to you--
"Did you not notice how miserable I am? Or are you too busy with-" Ash yells at him, smacking the plexiglass before James could finish his remark.
"No-- sorry, both our mics are broken so we're pretty out of the loop," You mumble and kneel down to grab the box into your hands, "you dying or something?"
"Yes!! I am!" James' tone is sharp and everyone giggles at his words, "Hey! Come on guys! That's what the Space Ghost told me!"
Ash shakes his head, "No! They said you're having a severe allergic reaction, not dying."
James groans, throwing himself back on the bed flat, "I wish I was dying!"
You laugh, shaking your head, "Alright, well don't treat him, Niki," and you walk out, box in hand.
You walk over to Wilbur, dropping the box in front of him and then putting your hands on your hips, "There you go, Commander, happy now?"
He smirks, "Why yes I am, thank you," He leans down to open it and take out a few pieces, handing a good half of them to you and you huff, rolling your eyes.
"This power is getting to your head-- You're not even Commander," You start to place the pieces one by one in the way the instructions sheet requires-- it's not detailed instructions by any means. It's more or less an example of what it should look like which is plenty for you and Wilbur to go off of.
"Well, I might as well be. I thought you liked this?" His face never falls from the cocky smirk he holds, some sort of confidence of his own surging through his body. He looks over at you briefly, eyes locked down onto yours. "Me being in charge and all?"
Your eyes went wide and you hoped you were hallucinating-- or maybe daydreaming-- or maybe this was a dream. But you figured with how real it felt, your senses being in tact--that this was real. You felt your cheeks burn bright red and you simply stared, hand going limp and the piece of this big puzzle in your hand, falling and crashing into the box.
"I saw you staring, that's all," He smirks and shakes his head, moving along with his part of the puzzle and you swore you could see him blush too--
The thought is cut short when a Space Ghost comes out of the Mission Control room, ushering everyone to stop their roles for a moment and that we'll pick up where we left off next session. You silently thank the gods for this interruption-- keeping Wilbur from getting too cocky and you catch him wink at you as he follows the rest of the group into Mission Control.
Next session will be the death of you.
taglist; @sleepyburs @lillylvjy (just send me an ask or dm if you want to be added!)
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