Archive of Our Own

It wasn't like Dex was going to get the chance to fall for someone else. Who had time?

Dex's work was his life. He spent every waking moment working on Sky Captain's planes: crawling all over them, repairing them, devising improvements for them, installing, tinkering, adjusting. When the Captain was on the ground, Dex was working on the current plane, lovingly tending the bird that kept the Captain alive during his dangerous missions. When the Captain was in the air, Dex was working on the new model. Nights spent under the hot lamp at his engineer's table, fingers cramped and covered with graphite dust and eraser bits. Day after day in the machine shop building parts, breathing in the hot metal smell, or at the experimental end of the hangar bay, fitting things together, getting it wrong, trying again until it finally worked.

Some days his entire nutritional intake was the sugar in his bubble gum. Some days he had to choose between a shower and his newest comic book, knowing he had just enough alertness left for one or the other, but not both. Dex never let himself get too exhausted at the work bench, though. Not when his work was all that stood between Sky Captain and a very long fall.

Because his work was his life, and his work was dedicated to Sky Captain, Dex soon found his life dedicated to his boss, too. When Dex made a decision, he couldn't help factoring in Sky Captain -- what would he think? What would he say? What would he do?

It helped a lot that they both loved the planes. Dex never doubted how much the Captain respected and appreciated his work. Sky Captain would ask for improvements, but never ask the impossible. He would always notice when Dex made a change, and would never begrudge spending his own downtime taking the plane up to test and retest the new features. Any criticism was about the equipment, never about Dex's abilities. Sky Captain knew Dex wanted to do his best, and treated him like a partner. Dex never really got used to that part.

Sky Captain was an air ace, a hero. Dex was just a glorified mechanic. But when it came to the planes, the Captain didn't look down on Dex, he -- dare Dex think it? -- looked up to him. As if Dex was useful and valuable and important.

Dex wasn't used to being seen as a person, much less a valuable one. He supposed it was inevitable that he'd lose his heart the first time someone recognized him for the very things he valued in himself. It wasn't long before Dex knew he'd happily do pretty much anything for the Captain, just as long as he was allowed to stay near the man.

It was actually a relief to be able to put a name to the way he was feeling. Now Dex knew why he was always so aware of the Captain when he came into the hangar. Dex couldn't help secretly, even obsessively, watching the Captain. He finally understood why the beginnings of their conversations, before Dex focused on the topic, could be awkward, accompanied by blushes and stammering.

The other fellows sometimes teased him about his hero-worship, as if they weren't equally as afflicted. Dex knew it went deeper than that for him. He worked hard to keep it under control. It would never do to let his work suffer. Even worse would be to let Sky Captain know. This was Dex's secret, to be hidden and protected. There wasn't a lot of room for soft feelings in Dex's life, and he had no intention of exposing this to the harsh light of day.

Dex would only let himself think about it when he was alone. And when he did, he'd inevitably end up shaking his head at his own foolishness. He had it bad, and living the life he lived, surrounded and swallowed up by Sky Captain's planes and requests and mystique, he hadn't a prayer of getting free any time soon.

Some nights the Captain would come in late, smelling of perfume and gin and musk. Dex knew he was popular with the ladies. Very popular. Sky Captain was golden and slender and debonair. He attracted the most sophisticated women. Not only beautiful but rich, intelligent and educated. When a woman walked into a society event on Sky Captain's arm, heads turned. Much though these women might want to think they were the focus of the attention, it was Sky Captain, looking even more striking in simple black tie than he did in his Flying Legion uniform, who drew the eyes of the crowd.  

As Joe Sullivan, middle son of a lower-class Irish family, he was unremarkable. When he was Sky Captain, he was the hero of the air, and he never lacked for female admiration.

The Captain would always be a little drunk on those nights he came home late. Expansive and smiling, if a little uncoordinated. "Come and have a nightcap, Dex!" he'd say when he noticed Dex at his work table, bent over some engineering sketch or blueprint. He'd pour them both a shot of good whiskey. He never noticed that Dex would take one sip, maybe two, and then switch glasses. Dex couldn't risk drinking when the Captain was around. With no head for liquor, he lived in fear of relaxing his guard too much, of letting any hint of his true feelings slip.

Sky Captain would talk then. He'd talk about the party or the girl or the situation in Europe. He'd talk about his childhood or his favorite meal or the color of the clouds at sunset. It didn't matter to Dex what the Captain said. Dex would smile and nod in all the right places, and listen as the Captain's rich, accented voice flowed over him. The light would pool around the two of them, creating a haven of warmth in the empty building, and Dex could pretend that this intimacy was real, and that the Captain really was his.

Dex thought he loved the Captain best at those moments.

It confused Dex. No mistake, he was grateful for the time that he had alone with Sky Captain, but he couldn't understand why the pilot didn't stay with whichever woman he'd bedded. Dex wasn't naive. Inexperienced, maybe, but not naive. It was obvious from the way the Captain smelled when he came in. He was sleeping with the women, or some of them, at least. But he wasn't actually sleeping with them, was he? Instead of spending the night in the arms of a beautiful woman, he got up, got dressed, and came home.  And instead of getting straight into his own bed, Sky Captain would spend valuable sleeping time talking to Dex.

Why would he do that? Did he feel sorry for Dex? Was this pity? The poor mechanic can't get a date, spends all his time at the workbench, needs some human contact?

Dex didn't want that to be the reason. He could meet women, get a date, if he wanted. He understood more than engines, wings, and air flow. But what was the use of spending time with strangers in taverns? Dex was no nob, no hero. He didn't get invited to society soirees. Yeah, he could hang out with the other Legion mechanics and engineers, but he saw them every day, and besides, most of them had families to go home to. Dex got his best ideas late at night, anyway.

Dex was exactly where he wanted to be. He might be fooling himself thinking that the Captain was where he wanted to be, too, but Dex saw evidence that the Captain enjoyed their time together, and little evidence that he didn't. Dex was a firm believer in "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." As far as he was concerned, this friendship he had with Sky Captain worked just fine, and he wasn't going to second guess the Captain's actions, even if he couldn't begin to even first guess the Captain's motives.

Whatever the Captain's reasons, these nights were the source of Dex's deepest contentment. He especially came to enjoy how they ended. It was the only time he could safely bring into play the tenderness he felt for the Captain.  Eventually the night would catch up to Sky Captain. Whatever he drank before coming home, plus his nightcap, plus Dex's nightcap and the Captain would go silent and start to nod off in his chair.

That was Dex's cue to gently set aside the Captain's glass and take his arm. Dex would guide Sky Captain to his room and sit him down on his bed. He'd kneel in front of him, take off his shoes, and push lightly on his shoulders until the Captain lay back. Dex would drag the blanket up from the foot of the bed, turn off the light and leave. And as Dex shut the door to the Captain's room, he'd listen carefully, just so he could hear Sky Captain's sleepy murmur.

"Good boy, Dex."