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It was hot as hell in the Tulpar, some malfunction in their heating and cooling system caused the ship to feel more like a sauna then it should. Of course, Swansea and his newly appointed apprentice fixed it; however it’d take another day for the place to reach its normal level.
It meant another day of this absolute agony.
He walked into his quarters, it wasn’t for a break(as he wasn’t going to get his already minuscule pay docked), but to grab his toolkit for detail work. However, his room didn’t have it… which meant…
He rolled his eyes and moved down the hall to Daisuke’s room. He was shocked to not only see him inside but attempting to beat the heat with stripping down to his boxers.
“Swansea!” He shouted, face going beat red and the Gameboy almost dropping from his hands “Could you knock before barging into people’s rooms?”
“Lookin’ for my toolkit, the one that’s smaller and…” He noticed the healed scars across his chest, prominent, and precise.
Daisuke followed his gaze and immediately grabbed his uniform.
“Shit- Um, I really don’t know where that is Swansea! I hardly know what you're talking about, so sorry-” He was mumbling fumbling with the jumpsuit.
He was going to comment that due to the heat he could finally wear it right, without that bright Hawaiian shirt over, but he found his sudden embarrassment odd. He didn’t turn his head, he didn’t feel the need to, but he felt his own face heating up.
He didn’t know quite what surgery those scars came from but it was obviously something medical. He wasn’t one to nose his way into people’s personal business, especially some intern. However, he wasn’t used to the young man looking so stressed from something so little. So, he gave him a bit of reassurance
“It’s alright,” He huffed out but a bit softer then his usual grumpy tone “I know plenty of people with surgery scars, kid. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Oh, wait really?” He gave a nod “And you're… cool with it? Like, this doesn’t change anything?”
“Course not,” He said, but in his mind he knew this all meant something more than just a surgery.
He wracked his mind, trying to recall anything that could be this sensitive information that he was now trusted with.
“Okay, cool, cool,” He was smiling now, half dressed, goofy grin; it was quite charming “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Fine,” Can’t tell anyone what he doesn’t know.
He begins to head out but Daisuke catches his attention one more time.
“Mister Swansea?”
“...Yeah?”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
He ignores the flip in his stomach. He was too damn old for butterflies fluttering around.
*
It was the next day and he was trying to bury the image of the half-naked apprentice so he could focus on more pressing tasks. However, the cheeriness and winks of all things weren’t helping. He didn’t know if he was being a brat or trying to flirt but he was terrible with it.
“It’s funny, I was all worried about how you’d react. You know, you're the oldest of the crew. But your chiller then like majority of my family,” He grunted in reply and Daisuke continued “I’m still not sure how I’d tell the others- if I was to tell the others- but it makes it less scary. I don’t really… share this kind of thing with people. It’s stupid, I know, but people are rude.”
“Gotta stop worrying what everybody else thinks, just worry about you,” It was solid advice for anyone, especially someone as young as Daisuke.
He was new to adulthood, still had to find his place in the world. People like him always stressed about this and that; what it all boiled down to was making your way through life. He’d wished someone had straightened him out like that when he was a young man.
“I know, I know. If I did listen to everyone else and not myself I wouldn’t have figured this all out,” He looks serious for a moment, an expression on his face like he’s never seen, then he cracks a grin and chuckles “You know, someone once told me I couldn’t be a boy because my favorite color was pink.”
“Seriously?” He rolls his eyes, what a ridiculous person Daisuke had encountered. He couldn’t help feeling a surge of protectiveness inside of him, he’d surely knock someone’s head off if they’d said it around him again.
“Yep. He was a therapist too. I was lucky I got my Mom to switch me to someone knew,” He threw his hands in the air “Kept trying to tell me I was just a tom boy. And, cause I had a rocky relationship with my Dad, that was the reason I wanted to be a boy. Sounds straight out of some bigots textbook, right?”
Tomboy?
“You know, it’s still hard. I feel like I’m not man enough. Like… what even is a man anyway? Why am I less than another man? Why the hell-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath “Sorry, Mister Swansea. Probably talking too much.”
“You usually do talk too much,” He says, the information processing through his mind “But you’re not wrong, kid. You're not the only one who’s… struggled.”
“Are… you trans too Mister Swansea?” He asks, so simply.
It all clicked together. The asking not to tell anyone, the nervousness of being caught with his shirt off, the tomboy thing, and this whole thing with a shit therapist.
“No, no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had all those same thoughts… In a world like this it makes a man wonder about his place in it.”
They were both quiet, rare for the youngster and common for the older man. Thrown in the air was common thoughts and ideas of two men who couldn’t be more unlike each other. Yet here they were, same place, same time, some stupid job, and connected with this shared uncertainty on manhood.
“Do you have any advice?” He asked, hopeful eyes glistening at him, and leaned toward him.
“Yeah,” Swansea put a hesitant arm forward but found Daisuke instantaneously melting into the physical touch “Get to be my age and the whole thing won’t matter.”
He laughed, returning the gesture by wrapping him into a hug.
“Thanks, Mister Swansea!” He flushed again, glad it wasn’t visible.
There was… trust… vulnerability. All in him.