It took about five minutes after the girls were gone for Chuck to admit that he was bored out of his mind. He wandered aimlessly around the house for a little bit. Washed the dishes. He started a show on the holo-projector and then paused after ten minutes to grab a snack, but then he thought about something else while in the kitchen and forgot both the snack and the show. 

He ended up looking at himself forlornly in his bedroom’s full-lenght mirror. He ran his hands through the mass of floppy curls on top of his head. They were getting a bit long…

Everybody knew, of course, that the best time to make an impulsive haircut decision was the millisecond that their more reasonable friend had her back turned. Chuck pulled out the display pen that was hidden in the frame of the mirror and started sifting through the fancy menus that were programmed in. He tested different hairstyles and beards, saving the settings that he thought had the most potential. He’d never seriously grown a beard before, but it couldn’t be that hard, surely?

The sound of his comm-caster ringing pulled him from his contemplation. He pulled it from his pocket and was surprised to see Archie’s number flash on the screen. Chuck’s heart jumped with elation, and he fumbled to answer, almost dropping the device in his eagerness.

“Hey Archie! What’s up!” he gasped into the microphone, holding the comm in front of his face and feeling a bit disappointed that the major had chosen a voice-only call. Chuck wanted to see his face, but more than that, he wanted Archie to video call him so he could take a stealth screenshot and then have a picture to look at later.

Not for any creepy reasons! Just, you know. To look at. 

“Sergeant Quillback,” came back the crisp voice of his favourite man in the galaxy. “I apologize for bothering you outside of work hours, but —”

“You’re not bothering me at all!”

“— oh. Well, good. Um.” he sounded embarrassed, for some reason. 

Chuck bit his lip and started pacing without even noticing. “Yeah?” he prompted. If his comm had been equipped with one of these old-fashionned twirly wires, he would have been plucking at it like a lovestruck teenager. He was vaguely relieved that Bee wasn’t around to judge him.

But, hey. Archie had called him! Outside of office hours! It was cause for celebration. And Bee had lost the high ground the moment that she had gone and gotten herself a date.

“I have a few forms that I need to fill for tomorrow,” finally admitted the major. “But there’s a section that I don’t really… understand… and it’s driving me mad. I don’t suppose that you could give me a few pointers? Again, I’m sorry for imposing on your time like this —”

Chuck punched the air in victory. “Yes! Yes of course I’ll help you, major, it’s no problem at all!”

“Ah, excellent. In that case, would you mind coming over, or perhaps I should…?”

 “Oh yeah, I can come right over, don’t worry about it!”

Chuck was extremely jazzed to roll up to Archie’s house. He knew exactly where it was, since he’d helped the major apply for it after their conversation in the bunker’s tower. He hadn’t had any reason to actually visit it yet, however, so he was excited to finally have the opportunity. A man’s choice in home decoration could reveal quite a lot about him, and Chuck was eager to gather every little scrap of intel he could about his crush and add it to the collage of him that he was making in his mind. The more his mental Archibald took form, the easier it was to talk to the man and find fields of common interest upon which to build a rapport. 

He had to resist the urge to show up with a bottle of wine or some flowers. Chuck firmly told his heart that this was not a date, even though it vaguely felt like one.

The house was minuscule. It had a cute little pointed roof and a trellis running up the side of the olive walls in between the wine-red door and the single narrow window. Holographic nasturtium vines flickered in and out of view. Chuck made a mental note that he needed to recommend a good holo-tech to the major because his projectors were out of wack.

 He hopped up the steps to the porch and knocked a silly beat on the door. It opened pretty much immediately — which must have meant that Archie had been waiting for him, he thought with a little thrill of delight. 

If Chuck had spent any time at all imagining what Major Montgomery might wear at home during his off-hours (which he hadn’t! Indeed, Chuck had mostly spent time imagining the major in either his full uniform, partial uniform, or wearing nothing at all), then he probably would not have come up with this. He might have made the mistake of assuming that even Archibald James Montgomery might be tempted to relax every once in a while. But that would have been incorrect, as the man was dressed to the nine. He wore a warm brown tweed jacket and a burnt orange waistcoat over a white dress shirt, the only concession made to comfort being the lack of tie and the fact that one (1) button at his throat had been left undone.

Chuck knew immediately and with great prescience that this outfit was going to feature prominently in at least a few fantasies in the near future. Just like Archie’s uniform, it was a look that just begged to be peeled off slowly and intently.

Archibald invited him inside with a self-conscious smile and a wave, and when he turned around to give him a tour of the house, Chuck noted with glee that his dark pants were tightly fitted and perfectly accentuated his ass. He forced his eyes back upwards, conscious that he couldn’t really spend the entire time that he was at the major’s house ogling him. Well, he could, but that wouldn’t be very professional of him. He told himself to stop thinking about his ass and then proceeded to spend five minutes thinking very intently about it and nothing else. 

The house tour was done in an instant. Archie had insisted on applying for the smallest possible place, arguing to Chuck that he would be spending most of his time working anyway and as such had no need for superfluous space. He’d rolled his eyes and reminded the man that he didn’t have to be such a workaholic all the time, and wouldn’t he like to have some space to have friends over? But Archie had made a face at that, and Chuck had decided not to pursue that line of argument. He didn’t know if he simply had no friends or just didn’t intend to receive, but either way it was none of his business.

The end result was that Archibald’s house was only about the size of a cheap university apartment. If Chuck had to guess, he would say that the living room was two Bees large by three Bees long (he had trouble remembering how long each unit of measure actually was, but he could see in his mind’s eye exactly how tall his best friend was) and the kitchen and bedroom were half that.

He complimented the place anyway, because that was just what you did when someone had you over for the first time. Archie gave him another nervous, embarrassed smile. 

“Well, I only have the house because of you,” he demurred. “I wish to thank you again for telling me about the free lodgings.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, man! I know how shitty it is to sleep in the bunker. I’ve had insomnia for, like, my entire life.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Archie gestured him into the small and crowded living room. The major had somehow managed to fit a lovely wooden desk in there, along with the same type of leather chair that he used in the bunker. His computer setup counted two screens, which Chuck thought was interesting. Did Archie have hobbies that required a computer, then? He didn’t know many officers in the armed forces that enjoyed spending all of their times at their desks, or who regularly did work that required two screens. This looked like a specialized setup, which must mean that the man was familiar enough with computers to have preferences. Chuck himself wasn’t much of an electronics guy, aside from the occasional video game, but he knew that computer people like Bee and, apparently, Archie liked their machines set up a certain way. He made a mental note to request a second screen for his favourite major’s office in the bunker. 

There was no personal belonging crowding the surface of the desk, of course, but a large painting had been hung just above it. The entire canvas was split into stripes, and each one was a slightly different shade of red. It was one of those abstract, monochrome pieces of art that Chuck wouldn’t have understood before meeting Archie. 

Well, he didn’t really understand it now, either. But he was about to!

“Hey, what’s that?” he asked, pointing at it. 

The major came to stand next to him. He tugged at his waistcoat and cleared his throat nervously. “Ah, this is... well, it’s something of an indulgence, really. Do you remember when we talked about the red dust of Moonbase Beta?”

“Oh yeah!” he said. “Is it that red?”

“Part of it,” he replied. Archie moved to lean on his desk so he could point at a particular part of the painting. “Come closer. See how each of the segments are not just a different shade, but also a different texture and opacity?”

Chuck came closer obediently and squinted at the red stripes. When he moved his head from side to side, he could see what the major meant; some bits of paint were shinier, others smoother, and there was one near the left side of the painting that was a bit see-through. 

“Oh yeah, I can see the canvas through that one.”

“Yes, good catch!” praised the major, and Chuck had to bite down on his tongue so he wouldn’t grin too widely. “You see, every pigment used in this painting is an attempted chemical re-creation of MB-Beta Red, which is here in the middle.” He indicated the largest stripe. “And they were all mixed with the same binding agent, in the same quantity, and applied with the same method. But as you can see, none of them quite match.”

Chuck considered the entire painting again. Yeah, none of the other stripes were as brightly red as the one in the middle. He pointed at one on the far right. “This one’s got the right shade, but it’s not as shiny. And this one... hey what happens if you mix them all up? I mean, if you use the one that’s shiny enough but too pale and you put a bit of the one that’s brighter but too.. what’s the opposite of shiny?”

“Matte. And what happens is that colour scientists have been trying for years to find the ideal mix of each of these pigments. It’s a complicated process. You have to take into account the ratio of pigment to binder, and the properties of each, and so much more...”

Archibald trailed off, looking at his painting with a far-off look of contentment on his face. Chuck loved to see him like this. He still didn’t really understand what was so interesting about paint, but the man really did seem to think it was fascinating. And he liked to see the people he loved love stuff.

“Wow,” he murmured. “I had no idea it was all so complex.”

The other man blinked, then looked down at his hands with a small smile. “Well, everything is complex when you take the time to learn about it,” he said. “Even something as mundane as colour has its own secret life.”

“You know what would be neat? A painting like that but about Space Mega Black.”

Archie grinned — actually grinned! — and huffed a laugh. “Chuck,” he said seriously, turning to meet his eyes. “I would debase myself for a painting showcasing the Mega Black.”

“Well, now I know what to get you for your birthday!” he laughed. “No but seriously, I think I know more about it now that I’ve met you than I ever did before. Thanks for sharing that with me, major.”

Archie cleared his throat and smoothed his hands down his clothes again. “You’re welcome, sergeant.” He stepped away from the desk and gestured at the sitting area that occupied the rest of the living room. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Chuck went to sit on the orange sofa. It was a only a two-seater and yet it still took up almost half of the wall. Next to him was a large bookshelf, and he tilted his head to look at some of the titles on display. There were a lot of books about art and colours, as expected, but also about typography, travelling, and some true-crime nonfiction. He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t see any novels up there. Chuck burned to know what genre Archie could possibly be into. Was he a romance guy? He needed to know for… reasons. Dating reasons.

The major rummaged on a side table that had been shoved behind the arm of the sofa and was almost hidden by the fabric of his long blackout curtains. When he straightened up, he was holding a bottle and one of those really fancy crystal glasses that Chuck only mostly saw in movies. 

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “I myself am partial to a fine bourbon.” He raised the bottle to show Chuck. 

He didn’t know the first thing about alcohol aside from beer but he nodded with an impressed look anyway and let Archie pour him a glass. They both raised their drinks at eachother and took a sip. 

The alcohol burned all the way down. Chuck bravely managed to hold eye contact and keep his expression in check. The major gave him a small, pleased smile, then turned towards his desk again. As soon as his attention was away, Chuck winced and plunked his glass down on a bookshelf. He almost hoped that the major had really invited him for paperwork and not for a stealth date, because if he planned on getting him drunk on bourbon it was going to be a long and painful endeavour. 

Besides, it’s not like Chuck needed to be drunk in order to let Archie have his way with him.

The major settled into his leather desk chair and shuffled papers for a few moments. Then he swiveled back towards Chuck and handed him a large stack of documents. 

“Here they are,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve been… accumulating them for a while. But I really do need to turn all of these in now. I just need a little bit of clarification for certain sections, if you please.”

Aw damn, thought Chuck. It really was about paperwork after all. He tried to swallow back his disappointment and took the papers that Archie was handing him. They looked to be sorted by deadline, with the most pressing ones on top. Paperclips had been inserted on the edge of the pages, seemingly indicating the sections that the major had had issues with. The rest was filled with his fastidiously neat, cramped handwriting. As usual, he’d applied himself far more than any other officer would have and he felt a wave of fondness rise inside of him for that ridiculous man.