Leaps and Bounds
What beauty. I saw clouds and their…shadows on the distant dear earth... The water looked like darkish… gleaming spots... When I watched the horizon, I saw the abrupt, contrasting transition from the earth's light-colored surface to the absolutely black sky. I enjoyed the rich color spectrum of the earth. It is surrounded by a light blue aureole that gradually darkens, becoming turquoise, dark blue, violet, and finally coal black.
-Yuri Gagarin
"It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small."
-Neil Armstrong
Upon the threshold of tomorrow stood two men. Behind those two men stood two lands. And into one world did those lands pour their ingenuity.
"The stuff of science fiction," one figure muttered, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "I keep waiting for this to turn out to be one very long, very elaborate dream. As if every minute were another night of wishful thinking."
Beside him, his taller companion stirred. "Why should it be? We have proven time and again we are ready to push the envelope, to the point where there might as well be none."
The shorter of the two grinned, taking two easy strides to close the distance between them. A strong arm wrapped itself around Russia's shoulders, jostling him good-naturedly. "There's that stubborn attitude I'm used to!" America crowed, wearing that grin even now Russia could only call infuriatingly charming. There had been a time when Russia would have shrugged off the embrace, heart pounding and mind reeling, all flavors between bitter and sweet coursing through him.
But today, he returned it.
It felt entirely right to be standing beside America, admiring the fruits of their labor. It caused his chest to ache as he realized how open they were allowed to be. Even now Russia felt like his voice was returning to him, in more ways than one. And he was allowed to enjoy this moment with he who he believed would be his ruin. Both of theirs. Just a few pushes of some buttons was all it would have taken to end them all. Today, on this bright autumn day of 2000, it would propel humanity into the final frontier.
America wore a sheepish, almost humble expression as he cast his eyes downwards, feet kicking at some dirt. "Shame it's not getting as much publicity as it deserves."
Russia glanced at him, his vision filled with bright golden locks and vibrant blue pools. "Why not?"
"Presidential elections are right around the corner."
"Oh." A stab of disappointment blossomed in Russia's gut.
For all everyone said about America being unable to read the atmosphere, he was quick to notice. He took a step back, allowing their arms to fall back to their sides, only to grab at Russia's hand with his own. America's skin felt pleasantly warm against the backs of Russia's fingers as his thumb traced idle patterns there. "Hey," he began softly, the confident light in those blue eyes melting to something more tender. "We know what's going down. I know. And I'm never going to forget any of this."
Russia had no memory of telling his fingers to tighten their grip, yet still he found himself holding on to America's hand, offering a reassuring squeeze that was returned in kind. "Will you?" Amethyst eyes blinked beneath pale lashes. "I worry about that, you know. I was able to…not forget, but certainly not recall certain parts of our history together for some time."
He regretted those words as soon as they caused that sunny expression to turn mournful. Before he could retract his statement, however, America cut in, "I know. Me too. But, like you said, it wasn't truly forgotten. Maybe it was just easier not to remember?" His grip tightened once more, some of that old fire beginning to return to him. "But here we are, still remembering. And look at us now! Look at our guys!" He turned his attention to the base of the massive shuttle, where final preparations were underway.
Russia followed his gaze, watching their movements with renewed interest. "Da, look at them. Off to spend the most prolonged period yet up in space."
"At a project we worked on together!"
Russia let out a chuckle. "Yes. And now we are both sending people up." Quick as a flash, he released America's hand in favor of saluting the approaching astronaut and cosmonauts as they came to shake hands. Beside him, America scrambled to do the same. Shepherd, Krikalev, and Gidzenko made a handsome team, Russia noted, as the two cosmonauts drifted toward him first instinctively; Shepherd stepped toward America first, not knowing the action was for reasons beyond the small flag pin America wore, not knowing he would always approach Alfred first in practically any lineup.
Handshakes were distributed, formalities exchanged, and earnest words of thanks were professed by nations and humans alike. Russia could see now a traitorous wetness growing behind America's glasses as he informed the crew of what an amazing feat they were taking up. As the three men turned away, it was Russia's turn to grasp his hand. America's grip was tight enough to almost be painful, but for the moment, the pressure was a reassuring anchor, as if Ivan too would fly away from this world without it.
"Look at us now," America echoed softly as the launch commenced.
Words Russia had been planning on saying all day bubbled to his mouth. Beside him, America only saw his pale lips moving with no sound coming out, as all noise was drowned out by the roar of engines and fire and smoke and Expedition 1 making its giant leap. When at long last silence filled the empty space where Expedition 1 had stood, Russia had swallowed his earlier statement.
"Over a hundred days they will be there," he recited instead, staring up at the sky.
America nodded in approval, and that small movement reminded Russia that their hands had been connected the entire time of the launch. "Yep, they'll be getting some work done. There's supplies to unload, systems to turn on that just couldn't be activated in the unmanned missions. I assume you're sending more stuff up there as well?" He glanced sideways, and to Russia it was like looking into shards of the sky.
Russia nodded, swinging their joined hands forward and back absentmindedly. "Supply vehicles. Those will be unmanned as well."
America hummed. "We need more people getting into this," he declared solemnly.
"Are they not?" Pale eyebrows rose.
America shook his head fervently. "Not like you and me, I don't think. Sure, a bunch of agencies are eager to get involved in this, but at the end of the day…" He licked his lips. "At the end of the day it was you that would lie out in the grass and daydream with me. It's you that was ready to make space exploration worthy enough to compete over, something worth so much attention. We started this together."
"I remember." Russia's eyes roved over America's face, taking in the fierce fire that always seemed to be burning within him, fueling his spirit.
"Mir was really quite the accomplishment, Ivan."
Russia's eyes darted around; the closest humans were a dozen yards away in deep conversation. The rest were news crews talking too loudly over one another to hear what they said. And yet…
"Hey- Earth to Ivan!" That summery smile was more blinding and scorching than the sun. "I said Mir was pretty incredible. First habitable artificial satellite. And now we've got something even larger than it, on an international scale. If that's not an admirable chain reaction I don't know what is."
"Thank you, Alfred," Russia said sincerely, hesitating for barely a heartbeat over the name.
America chuckled, stepping closer so their arms were flush against each other. "The compliment was sincere, but what would you say if I told you I said your name cause I missed getting to, and I wanted to hear you say mine?"
Something inside him had grown particularly warm. It rippled through him, softening his posture, easing tension he had not known he was carrying. It was with an expression of feigned indifference that he said airily, "I would say that was a cold and calculating maneuver, Jones."
"Oh, I'm Jones, now! Well, there's something."
"And Jones you shall remain."
"We're going to have to be friendlier than that if we're going to keep sending people up into space for years at a time."
"I suppose we should." Amethyst met sapphire, a silent understanding forged between them.
That night, as humans celebrated loudly together, America and Russia found themselves a secluded spot, their table offering a view of the street outside. A light drizzle pattered against the window, making each of them feel particularly warm.
"What're you thinking about?" America smiled coaxingly across from him over the rim of his glass.
Russia answered immediately, emboldened by earlier kisses and secret caresses. "How even as it rains outside, I get to see the sky." He looked intently into the other's eyes.
The results were as he'd hoped; a pretty blush painted those tan cheeks as America dropped his gaze, trying to bat away the comment with a wave of the hand. "Damn, that's pretty cheesy."
"I read it from one of your books."
"Oh, so you're just reciting lines to impress me."
"The sentiment is sincere, America. Is it working?"
"Not if you keep calling me that. I have another name."
"Alfred." It tasted so sweet on his tongue. Almost as sweet as Alfred's lips as they moved closer to meet in a kiss. Russia let America taste the champagne he had been drinking on his lips. Their noses brushed together as they clumsily tried to find an ideal angle. It was hesitant yet so desired, the exchange of two souls who could never get enough, tethered from each other for too long.
Though eventually they pulled apart, it was with the promise of more to come. "I'm really sorry your guy isn't alive to see this. Gagarin would've gotten a kick out of it."
"I'm sorry too." Russia took another sip of champagne, the fruity taste mingling with flavors of Alfred to create something positively intoxicating. "But he is up there now, always. That is how he would want it."
America leaned forward, the golden light from the small candle between them carving deep alluring shadows across his face. "I know. When Neil was up there, I…I took a peak, saw through his eyes. It was like nothing you could imagine."
A rare wry smile crossed Russia's features. "Yes, my Yura got to see some amazing sights as well. Our world never looked so wonderful, so different from how we see it every single day."
"I never felt so small as I did when I looked back and saw us all from so far away." When America looked down, it was to see a large pale hand enveloping his own.
"You are not small." Russia's lips were pursed as his eyes seemed to look right through America to something far less tangible than cloth and flesh. "You are, ah, what is it…out of this world."
A moment of silence filled their corner of the restaurant before the music of America's laughter filled the void, white teeth flashing in the candlelight. "Alright, buddy, I'm all for people indulging in my work, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you off."
Russia gave him a cool look beneath snowy lashes and bangs. "You would never miss the chance for someone to read or watch something from your land."
America's grin softened but retained its addictive quality, the kind that made Russia want to ensure he always had reason to smile like that. "Remember seeing off Zarya?" came the eager question.
Russia nodded just enthusiastically. He paused, considering his words. "Were you ever told what that word means?"
"I mean, part of me thought it was just a pretty name. The Russian version of Sarah, maybe. But I'm always up for etymology."
'It means dawn." A heartbeat of silence. "To symbolize a new day in international cooperation, in the name of space exploration."
The hand beneath him twitched. A gentle twist and tan fingers were wrapped about his own porcelain ones. "That's a perfect name, Ivan. Owned by one of my companies, made by your engineers. My god, I just want this to last. Let this be what we're remembered for. As the two nations who bridged a gap to keep the creative inquisitive spirit going."
"That was launched in the fall too."
"It's a good time of the year. Good for work, good for fresh air. Comes right before the harsh cold of winter."
"I always preferred spring," Russia admitted, tracing idle patterns on the back of America's hand, enjoying the little twitches his feather-light touches evoked.
"Spring is a good time. Our time. But so is autumn."
Russia glanced up, brow knit. America smiled almost sheepishly, ducking his head as he elaborated. "Well, it was fall when your ships came."
Ah. It comes back to that again. Russia hummed distantly, the ghostly memory of a dream dancing through his vision, all smells and sights and sounds.
A gentle swaying, hard polished wood, scents of salt and water and sweat. And then the shores of New York. America had been there as Russia's ships sailed up to dock, and it was from the deck that Russia looked out and saw the nation's tired face flood with awe and relief, the kind only one who was beyond daring to hope would ever evoke. That look alone had sent Russia bounding from the ship, all thoughts of propriety and decorum abandoned amidst the rush of sailors. Straight towards America he had headed, the shorter man meeting him halfway. Even being ripped in two, America's hugs were forceful, earnest, and so very warm. The sheer force had startled Russia, sending them both back a few steps, but nothing at that point was able to stop him from wrapping his arms around America and whisper reassuring words into the golden crown of his head. He wasn't even sure if he was speaking English or Russian at that point, but whatever he said had been enough to make America gave a sad burst of laughter as he nodded against the massive expanse of Russia's chest.
Russia was not sure when exactly the final barrier between them had crumpled, but the years after that saw their relations be closer than ever. And flaunted. Long days spent under the relentless western sun left them both covered in dust and dirt and smiles and prolonged looks and accidental touches that weren't so accidental, and Russia had gotten sunburned so America insisted that he take it easy in the shade while he prepared them drinks, but not before poking relentlessly at the reddened flesh, eventually calling it cute. And oh, good thing the burns could hide a blush, but not how Russia had turned away with a flustered little smile that America decided he wanted to see more of. And later when the sun had departed and they'd retreated indoors to avoid the onslaught of mosquitos, maybe it was the drink that caused America to brush his lips against Russia's, except America hadn't had that much to begin with; he'd been too busy watching Russia over the rim of his glass with what could have been stars in his eyes. Odd, how there weren't any twinkling away outside; they must have been trapped in endless pools of sapphire hidden behind shards of glass, Russia decided, as he gently removed America's glasses. His lips soon covered America's, and from that day forward it was still smiles and prolonged looks and accidental touches that weren't so accidental, but the tenderness in each glance and the gentleness of each touch made Russia's heart ache. He then understood how the Snow Maiden had melted from falling in love. Such an emotion was too warm for their sensitive bodies.
The scraping of a chair was the first thing to drag Russia back to present day. The next was the pressure on his shoulder. Alfred followed the thin strong hand up the arm, climbing passed the wrinkles in fabric to ascend a strong shoulder and at last to America's face, smiling down at him with a look that seemed too confident to be allowed. "Lost you again, huh? You were thinking about it, weren't you? It's nice to be able to, after so long. Come on, let's get out of here."
And how could he say no to those pearly white teeth framed by those pretty pink lips? Their debate over who was paying for what was shorter than usual; both seemed too pleased with recent events to put up much of a fight. The air was crisp and clear as they drove out into the night. America left the windows down, and a pleasant breeze carded through their hair, creating small plumes of gold and silver halos. The grass too was cool beneath them as they lay down atop it, gazing up at the sky.
"You know, I can still see when our bosses and agencies signed off on the Memorandum of Understanding. Between my NASA and our R…Rosoc…"
"Rosaviakosmos."
"Yeah, that." From the corner of his eye, Russia could see that dazzling grin, threatening to outshine the stars above. "Yep, the MOU that named the ISS as designed with the goal of being a low orbit factory, observatory, and lab. If- no, when there are future missions to the Moon and Mars, shuttles would have a docking station and supplies right there."
"And asteroids," Russia reminded him, stretching out the stiffness in his muscles. As his arms reached out, America promptly grabbed the one nearest him, holding it close.
America hummed contentedly, rolling up Russia's sleeve to let his fingers skate tantalizing paths up and down the strong limb, tickling as he brushed over fine platinum hairs. "I would like to send people up there to learn." Russia glanced over at him in mild surprise. Turning his gaze from the sky, America smiled at him and shrugged. "It could be a great opportunity. Once all the procedures are mastered, people from all over could strive to travel there to learn and train. It would encourage the enthusiasm we want so much."
Russia found himself falling victim to the infectious nature of America's smiles, especially the ones directed at him. He liked to think there was a certain quality in these moments that only he was privy to, that no one else would ever receive such a look. In truth, Russia found the idea quite enticing, knowing many of his own children would leap through fire for the chance to be a part of something so celebrated. But at the end of the day, he liked sharing this interest exclusively with America, Alfred, and was not keen on sharing.
Perhaps those oceans of blue were displaying just how observant they could be, because the next moment America rolled onto his side, keeping Russia's arm close, running his nails gently up and down the pale underside of his arm. "Hey, don't give me that look. You know full well at the end of the day this is still our special hobby. Look at us. Running outside between bouts of rain and cloud cover to try and catch a glimpse of some constellation. How many locations have we both memorized that are far enough away from a city to let the sky be clear? Did you need to check a map? Because I didn't."
Russia sighed, breath cool and sweet against America's face. "I know," he admitted, and it was true. "It would certainly be nice, especially since the space station is designed for long stays. There is so much potential."
"We'll be able to learn so much." America's gaze had returned to the sky, where the clouds had returned. A single droplet of rain landed on the right lens of his glasses. Another soon followed. "Physics, astrophysics, biology, astrobiology."
"Medicine, physiology, material acquisition," Russia intoned breathlessly, lost in the possibilities. When he looked over once more, America's gaze had returned to him. Thin rivulets trickled down his cheeks from where the steady drizzle was falling upon them. Russia blinked as some droplets fell into his eyes; the simple action caused America to lean up on his elbows and crawl over so he was leaning above Russia, shielding his face from the rain. For a while, the two simply stayed like that, until Russia's hand found itself entwined in America's hair, darkened from dampness. "We're going to get sick staying out in the rain like this," he said at last.
In lieu of a response, America leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Russia's lips, pulling back far too soon. "I'm so excited to be doing this with you I don't even care," he confessed over the rain. Something in Russia's chest ached and, still quite unsatisfied, he pulled America down for another kiss.
Their work was far from over. More additions and alterations were made to their beloved space station, launched there by America's Space Shuttles and Russia's Soyuz and Proton rockets. In the end, this fondness for the last frontier was not for Russia to share exclusively with America; the ISS would be visited by individuals from seventeen nations total. That faithful autumn day in 2000 would be the start of fifteen years of continued inhabitance; Expedition 1 was just the start. 2011 saw Russia comforting America through drink after drink after his Space Shuttle program was ended, assuring him again and again the Soyuz rockets would bring his men up there to the ISS. America had tugged at his own hair in frustration, abandoning his drink long enough to take up the mantra "Why don't they get it? Why don't they get it?" Even with the various international agencies- JAXA, CSA, ESA- it was divided into the United States Orbital Segment and Russian Orbital Segment. This division didn't stop NASA from declaring Runglish an official of the International Space Station, the same year as Expedition 1's launch. From that day forth, it had become America and Russia's language, their secret little way of joining together in ways politics did not always allow for. It was the language America told some of his jokes in, the better to see that smile of Ivan's he was so deprived of for ages; it was that language Russia used to video chat with America after he'd just returned home from a visit to the States.
Like completing a circle, as two cosmonauts and one astronaut departed on Expedition 1, so too did two cosmonauts and one astronaut transfer to Expedition 46, the task commencing December 11, 2015 with the launch of Soyuz TMA-17M. America and Russia had overseen their initial departure on a previous Expedition and the launching of all Soyuz rockets since then. Together they remembered the three souls of two lands who helped bind them in dreams of the future, rather as Alfred and Ivan chased relentlessly for that tomorrow of forever.
Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand.
-Neil Armstrong
Looking at the earth from afar you realize it is too small for conflict and just big enough for co-operation.
-Yuri Gagarin
THE END
Notes: Written for the Rusame Secret Santa 2015 for magicsciencegirl, for the prompt of history or space. Pretty much all space-related details presented in this are true and were integrated after extensive research into the history of the ISS (including dates and models), along with the programs and motivations of NASA and Roscosmos. I tried to balance shippyness with presentation of history. Runglish is indeed listed by NASA as a language of the International Space Station, with Sergei Krikalyov (cosmonaut) saying "We say jokingly that we communicate in Runglish…so that when we are short of words in one language we can use the other, because all the crew members speak both languages well."
When America says he hopes to bring people up to the ISS to learn, this is a reference to the fact that in 2010, the United States National Space Policy granted the station additional duties of serving educational, diplomatic, and commercial purposes. It is the goal that humanity shall make three main leaps in space exploration: ISS, the moon, Mars.
The flashback was to during the American Civil War; to deter further threats of interference made by England and France, the Russian Empire sent ships to dock in American harbors. This occasion is indeed celebrated each year in New York; at the time when the ships came was quite the height of Russian-American relations, with people crying out "God bless the Russians!" Although docking there also served to give the Russian Empire an area to put their ships that wouldn't freeze in winter, relations between the two nations at that time were practically an alliance in all but name, with a Russian grand duke making a tour across the states in celebration.
References to spring, of course, are a nod to one of the names for the rusame ship, "Waiting for spring." Though, the "space gays" name is pretty strong in a space-centric fic here.
At the end of the day, if one takes the time to look, there are countless examples of members of humanity from such varying walks of life coming together in the name of enlightenment and growth. Space exploration has proven one of those. No matter what goes on around us, mankind finds a way to keep moving forward, to discover. This thirst to grow, this need is what those two great figures claim to be the driving force of us all. Armstrong and Gagarin alike celebrated our sense of wonder and ambition and the enthralling questions that keep us asking and seeking answers. We can seem so very small, but we can make massive leaps. That, in addition to their roles in space exploration, is their legacy to us all.
As always, reviews are extremely welcome!