by Kelly Jensen
Felix glanced over at his sleeping lover and smiled at the messy sprawl Zed made across their bed. His bunk aboard the Chaos had always felt adequate before Zed. Then it had felt cozy, then for a time it had seemed too large, as if it would only ever feel right with another man tucked in beside him. Now, it often felt too small. Zed sometimes slept restlessly, or he liked to cuddle, pulling Felix into an octopus hug in the middle of the night. Felix pretended he didn’t like it. Wasn’t quite sure if he did. But his favorite place to be was tucked into Zed’s arms, cheek pressed to Zed’s chest, right where his heart was, so maybe he was just a contradiction. Yeah.
Zed stirred and muttered. Felix put down the cuff and picked up his other project, the one he’d been working on for three days—in snatches, when he wasn’t sleeping, when Zed was sleeping. The Guardians had healed Zed again, but they couldn’t do anything about a fatigue that took weeks to shake, and their sort of healing came with more sleep debt. Zed still needed rest. Felix’s injuries had been less severe. A concussion, a couple of broken ribs, a chunk of shrapnel lodged in his side and a twisted ankle. Countless scrapes and bruises. His shoulder no longer pained him and he’d regrown his finger the moment Nessa had given him the all clear to try. It’d hurt and he’d slept a solid six hours afterward, but now he was whole again, and oddly at peace between his bouts of sleep.
They’d saved a colony from the Guardians’ wrath. He’d helped save four of Preston’s recruits. Seemed like a small thing given the fact they had promised not to report the colony to Central. No one would ever know what they’d done there, or about the rough hundred folks still living down in the ravine. But in all his career with the AEF, Felix had never actually saved anyone. Engineers didn’t save people, they saved machines. They were a cog in the wheel of good intent. He’d never really felt as if he’d done anything worthwhile. Not during the war and not after. He’d saved Zed, yeah, but that had been purely personal. Selfish, just like him. Just for him. This...this was different. Nearly six years after his retirement, Felix finally felt like a soldier.
He slipped a golden loop of wire over the tip of a finger and rubbed his thumb over the design he’d created. A sense of rightness warmed him. He hopped off his stool and crawled onto the end of the bed. The too small but filled-up-just-right bed. They’d be back at Alpha tomorrow, so if he was gonna do this, it had to be now.
He poked Zed in the gut. Zed mumbled and curled into the pillow he probably thought was Felix. Felix trailed his fingers down the side of Zed’s neck, tickling and sending soft thoughts. Wakey wakey.
Warm, formless thought traveled back through his fingertips. Dream-Zed. Felix slipped his fingers behind Zed’s ear and into his hair. Massaged the back of his scalp. Zed’s thoughts fuzzed and sighed. They couldn’t connect when one of them was asleep, but the essence of Zed was there. The feel Felix could describe to no one but Zed. After nearly losing him countless times, just this feel was everything, though.
Stretching out next to Zed, Felix tucked his face into the crook of Zed’s neck and sucked at the skin there. Pulled it into his lips and caught a fold between his teeth. Sleep hickeys were fun to give. He traced his fingers across Zed’s ribs—caressing the bumps of Zed’s abs, skipping over scars as familiar as his own, seeking a nipple and the little barbell threaded through the tender flesh. There it was. Felix tweaked and tugged. With his lips and tongue, he sucked.
Zed groaned and shuddered. As if still asleep, he wrapped round Felix, all arms and legs, and pulled him close. Warm breath stirred the curls by Felix’s ear. “Are you giving me another hickey?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I think the galaxy knows I’m yours.”
Felix moved his lips against Zed’s warm, reddened skin. Flicked his tongue over the little bruise he’d just left. “Just got to make sure.”
Zed shifted his head, lips seeking Felix’s and drawing him in to a kiss only Zed could deliver. Long and languid, a caress of lips and tongues that could extend into forever. Just heated enough to send the blood rushing to his extremities, but without demand. It was not a lover’s kiss, it was something more profound. A communication between two souls on a level far deeper than the physical. With a nudge and a breath, either of them could change the kiss. Zed nudged and hot air tickled Felix’s lips as Zed arched forward, simultaneously pulling Felix closer. Felix tugged on the little barbell still held between his fingers. Zed moaned. He was hard and Felix bumped against Zed’s erection, enjoying the tease. Then he broke the kiss and began the task of extricating himself from Zed’s arms.
“Hold on,” he murmured.
“Why?” A soft whine carried Zed’s simple question.
“I wanna talk to you about something.”
Zed rocked his hips forward. “I wanna show you something.”
Felix laughed. “We’ll get to the sex part.”
“You woke me up sucking on my neck and pulling at my nipple. We’d better be getting to the sex part.” Zed nipped at his lips. “Want you.”
The combination of words and thoughts slipped beneath Felix’s skin, igniting the tingle of desire thrumming through his body. For a second, he considered giving in, letting Zed have his way. Sex was good. Sex was always good.
Would that change...after?
Zed opened his eyes and met his gaze. His forehead wrinkled as he lifted a hand and placed it alongside Felix’s cheek. “I can feel you thinking,” he whispered. “I’m supposed to be the thinky one.” He rubbed his thumb over the diagonal scar on the left side of Felix’s face. “What are you thinking about?”
“Everything.”
“That’s a lot.”
Felix felt his mouth spread into a wide smile. “Yeah. Everything to do with you.”
Zed’s thumb stilled. “You’re thinking about the Guardians. Do we have to talk about them right now?”
Through their connection, Felix felt the familiar confusion and lingering sense of betrayal that accompanied Zed’s every thought about the supposed peacekeepers of the galaxy. He’d spoken little about what had taken place during his recent visit or capture or audience or however-the-fuck you wanted to describe it. Felix hadn’t asked for detail. It was hard to care about what the Guardians wanted, and the fact Zed had been delivered back to him with the cuff by his side rather than circling his wrist pretty much answered any questions he might have.
For Felix, thoughts of the Guardians always came with a flare of anger. At them for turning Zed into their tool. At his own failure, for hesitating to kill even one super soldier. He’d let his partner down. Worse, he’d put Zed in the position of having to defend his actions, those prescribed by the Guardians.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Zed moved his thumb again, swiping it across Felix’s cheek toward his ear. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I let you down when you needed my support the most.”
“The whole situation sucked.”
“That’s not an excuse.” Felix pulled Zed’s hand away from his cheek and pressed his lips to the palm. “I had the gall to make Todd stand up for counting, and then I—”
“If you hadn’t objected to killing innocent men and women, you wouldn’t be the man I love.”
“Statements like that sound all well and good in the holo vids, Zed, but here, in real life? Do you really want to be with someone who doesn’t have your back?”
Zed’s brow wrinkled. Through his hand, Felix felt his thoughts shift and tumble. “Do you want to be with someone who will kill on command?”
“I want to be with you.” Not an answer to that exact question. Felix considered his response before saying more, though. “It was war, right? That’s what a soldier is supposed to do in war.” And it wasn’t as if Felix hadn’t killed before. Since Zed had joined the crew of the Chaos, they’d amassed quite the body count.
“B
ut this was different,” Zed said, reading his thoughts.
“Because they were like you. It was going to be like killing you.”
“I know.”
Zed did know. Felix could feel it through the hand caught in his, and when he brushed his lips to Zed’s palm again, he felt the forgiveness he needed. He took it, mentally sliced off his share and gave the rest back. “For you.” Because Zed needed to forgive himself for what the Guardians had demanded he do.
After a moment of the quiet and contemplative kind, Felix dropped Zed’s hand and tilted his head toward the cuff resting on his desk. “I was fiddling with it again. Might drop it into the c-core, see if that does anything.”
“Probably not. Might bugger up the c-core, though.”
“There is that. Do you think you’ll ever put it back on?”
Thought muted the blue of Zed’s eyes. “Maybe. I haven’t decided.” Additional answers drifted between them, each layered with meaning. If Zed resumed a connection with the Guardians, it would be on his terms. He had no idea if that would be acceptable to the vastly superior beings, but that thought would be a part of his offer. It’d be a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. Here, his thoughts stuttered a little. Talking back to the Guardians was not something you did lightly.
Zed’s full lips curved into a little smile. “Can we make love now?”
“Not yet. I...” Felix scooted back a little more and sat up. He pushed his hand into his pocket and fiddled with the loop of wire. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
Zed huffed out a sigh. His expression was patient, though. The small smile indulgent. He pushed up to his elbow and reached behind him to plump up some pillows. He then arranged himself into a sitting sprawl and turned back to face Felix. “Okay, spill.”
“I’m tired, Zed.”
The dreaded crease teased the middle of Zed’s brows.
“I feel like I’ve been running all my life. From something to something. Maybe running isn’t the right word. Searching. I’ve been trying to find...fuck, I don’t know.” Zed reached for him and Felix drew back. “Wait. For this I need words. Then I’ll show you the rest of it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“After I was discharged I found a place with Elias and his dad and it was good. It wasn’t my family, but it was what I needed right then. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Then I got this ship and I really thought this would be it, you know? That I could make a home for myself. Carve out a space in the hull of this corvette and make it mine. And I did and I still had Elias, and Ness became like my sister, frequently annoying, but always there when I needed her. I blinked one day and Qek became my fucking conscience. Prodding at me with her obscure observations and never letting me quit. Making me feel necessary to her existence.”
Aware he’d wandered away from his point, Felix drew in a quiet breath and refocused his thoughts.
“Then you came back to me and it was like someone had switched a light on. I hadn’t even realized I’d been sitting in the dark. Waiting. I didn’t know I’d been waiting, that I’d have waited until the end of time, always stuck in that position, with my adopted family moving around me, giving and giving, with me never giving back because I was waiting. Searching. Still running.
“I know I’ve told you you’re my everything and I know you have felt how deep this is for me. I’ve loved you most of my life, Zed. For every single day since we were twelve. I’m not me without you. I don’t know how to be any sort of person without you. That’s not right, I know. I know I should be able to stand alone and make something of myself, and I could. But I’ve always been a selfish prick and I’m stubborn. I don’t want to. I just want to be with you. I want to be half of your whole.”
Zed opened his mouth, reached out.
“Not done yet.”
The crease between Zed’s brows deepened. Felix stuck his finger through the twist of wire and pulled it out of his pocket. He let the light of the cabin play off the design at the top for a moment before holding it out to Zed—showing him what he’d wrought from gold and thought. A soliton, the same looping curves tattooed on Zed’s wrist, taken from the first proper gift Felix had ever given him, a pendant he’d spent every credit he hadn’t had on.
“I know people don’t really exchange rings anymore, but I wanted to make you something because that’s what I do, I make things. I’m better at that than I am with words.”
“Flick—”
“I want to go home, Zed. With you. I’m done running and looking, done looking past what I already have. I’m ready. I want to go home with you. To your home and make it ours. I want your family to throw us a big wedding, as glitzy and choked with tradition as they can make it. I’ll wear a suit. You can choose it. Your mother can dress me. I’ll comb my hair. Cut it maybe.
“You can work with your brothers and we can be together. We can get ourselves some kids and we’ll take holidays like normal people. Except we’ll have to visit our asteroid, which folks don’t usually do, because the other part of our family lives out there. But we can go to that island you told me about too. If you want.”
Zed’s eyes had taken on a particular shine. He reached for the wire, the ring, with trembling fingers.
Felix let him take it. “And maybe your dad or Maddox can give me something to do. If they’re not too upset about me sinking the Apex Rapere.” It’d been donated to a good cause. “I could maybe work with you. With your family. Make them mine? They’d have me, right?” They’d always been kind, always warm and welcoming. He’d just never been this ready to give back what they had given him. “Do you think—”
Zed rolled forward and tackled him backward, lips finding his. “This is what I think.”
* * *
“I think you’re amazing,” Zed murmured against Flick’s lips. He pressed kisses along Flick’s jaw, paired with tiny nibbles. “I think you’re the strongest man I know.”
Flick made a noise of protest, but Zed placed two fingers against his lips. Flick had given him a ring. No, he’d made him a ring, with the symbol that meant so much to both of them. A soliton, a never-ending wave. A sign of infinity.
Zed had given up on the marriage thing—he wasn’t going to mention it again. Okay, he might have mentioned it once more, just to give it a last try, but after that, he was done. Flick was right—being married wouldn’t change what they had together, and if the rest of the world wondered why they hadn’t made things formal, well, fuck ‘em. There were other means to protect Flick—legally, financially—that didn’t require a marriage certificate, and if Flick felt that strongly...
But this. He hadn’t expected this.
Zed nipped at Flick’s ear. “I think you don’t need to do this.”
Flick turned his head to the side, dislodging Zed’s fingers. “Didn’t you hear me? I want to.”
“I don’t want you to give up you.” Zed closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the side of Flick’s head. “I love you. You don’t need to change.”
Flick’s fingers carded through Zed’s hair, tugging gently until Zed leaned back to look down at him, meet his eyes. “I have changed. Change isn’t bad—not always.”
“I don’t want you to think you have to submerge yourself—”
“Zed?”
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t you have something to show me?” Flick regarded him with mischievous green eyes.
Yeah, but...”This is important.”
Flick looked as if he might argue, but the flash of contrariness faded quickly. “Okay.”
“I love that you’d make this...this gesture.” Because that’s what it was—not a sacrifice, really, but a damned big gesture to show Zed just how much Flick cared for his happiness. “But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”
Flick’s brows furrowed. “I know you want to be on Alpha more. And the Chaos...you’ve never complained, but your duties aren’t much of a challenge. I just thought—”
Zed brushed a thumb over Flick’s lips. “How about we do some thinking together? The future...God. It’s wide open, isn’t it?”
“Pretty amazing to think about.” Flick sighed contentedly—then his breath hitched. “You didn’t mean to brainstorm right now, right?”
Zed huffed out a laugh. “Why? Do you have other plans?”
“Yes.”
Certainty flowed over their link. Confidence. They could do this—whatever this ended up being. But for right now...no, no more thinking. Zed’s lips found Flick’s again, warm, teasing, and his body threw off the weight of thought and worry.
“Love you,” Flick breathed. Love you, their connection affirmed.
Zed rolled over, dragging Flick on top of him. “So...are you gonna ask me?”
“Ask what?”
“I don’t recall a specific question...” Zed waggled his brows.
Flick huffed out a gentle, almost inaudible curse, but he was smiling as he looked down at Zed. “Will you marry me?”
Zed lifted up his left hand to show the ring looped around the tip of his ring finger. Deliberately, he pushed it down until it was securely seated at the base. “Yes.”
It was a simple gesture...but one that meant everything at the same time. Zed felt it, and the flare of emotion over their link told him that Flick felt it too. When Flick bowed his head to kiss him, he wasn’t prepared for the intensity of it. Making love had taken on new depths of meaning since Flick had gained his crystalline arm, but even so, this was more.
Their cabin ceased to exist. The world around them, gone. If Elias pinged them through the ship-wide comms, Zed wasn’t sure either of them would hear it. The universe narrowed to just them, their two souls, the commitment they’d made.
Zed arched back as Flick’s tongue found a pierced nipple. He laved it, played with it, teasing and tugging, while the other one received similar treatment from his agile fingers. Zed wound his hand through Flick’s curls, holding him in place, needing this physical reconnection.