Off World 2: Sanctuary

by Stephanie Vaughn

  “I guess.”

  Cutting limes into wedges to keep his hands busy, Alex looked up. “You guess what? That you will keep bringing it up? Please don’t.”

  Gesturing for Alex to hand him one of the lime sections, Nick squeezed it into his drink before helping himself to a stir stick from Alex’s bar supplies and stirring his drink. “Okay. I’ll try. I feel bad about what happened the last time we saw each other.”

  ”Yeah, nothing like being hauled away by a secret government security squad to kill the mood.” Nick shot him a look full of appeal and, although Alex had never hit anyone before in his life, he really wanted to now. “Don’t.”

  “Hey, bartender. How about a little service down at this end of the bar?”

  Without turning his head, Alex held up a hand, acknowledging the call from down the bar. Ordinarily that sort of remark would only earn the customer an even longer wait for service, but tonight it suited Alex’s needs to act on it.

  “Excuse me, boss, but I’ve got customers to take care of.”

  ***

  Climbing the stairs later, up to his apartment, Alex was still kicking himself mentally over all the mistakes he’d made tonight. Wrong ingredients. Miscalculated proportions. Entire orders forgotten. While he wished for the dozenth time that he had Sandy to talk to, Alex couldn’t decide if having Sandy to talk to would help or hurt, since it had been his preoccupation with the man that had been interfering with his ability to do his job efficiently.

  Alex swiped his card and let himself into the apartment he’d called home for the past six months, snorting again at the irony of people leaving one place because of its intolerable strictures and then doing everything humanly possible to recreate it somewhere else.

  Not exactly. Not perfectly, though, by any means. Thank God.

  Peeling off his bartender’s apron, Alex let it drop, not caring where it fell. He loosened the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt next, before moving on to pop the fastening at his throat. Dropping down onto the nearest horizontal surface -- a moderately comfortable padded chair -- Alex propped his elbows on his knees and ran both hands through his hair.

  What the hell was he going to do now?

  His thoughts were a hopeless jumble -- a tangled knot of colliding ideas, feelings, and images. Lately, now that the drugs were mostly out of his system, he’d begun to be able to sort through things in something approaching a logical fashion; little things, like arranging his apartment how he liked or what clothes to buy. But he’d been advised that because of the amount of chemicals his brain had been fed, combined with the duration and how young he’d been when they started, he’d probably never be really normal again. Whatever that was.

  Something like figuring out odds and probabilities, though… and big, intangible things, like was he still safe here? Could he manage that? Alex covered his face with his hands, cradling his head as he tried to think.

  He’d made it out of that hell hole and off Earth successfully, working his way out past Mars and on into the asteroid belt on an ore freighter. While not something he’d recommend to the uninitiated, Alex would have done anything to get out of the gilded cage he’d spent the last portion of his life in. It was strictly by pure chance that he’d landed on Doradus.

  Wanting only to be as far away from New Republican Earth, with its institutionalized hate laws and barely disguised caste system, as he could get, Alex had bribed his way on board first a freighter and then a smuggler’s cruiser. They could have been going anywhere, he hadn’t cared where, so long as it was far away.

  He’d been such a mess mentally and physically it hadn’t struck him as odd, or even particularly unusual, that he’d found people he knew when he got to Doradus. But Sarhaan, Kai, and Sandy had already been docked here with their “borrowed” military ship, fleeing Earth for some of the same reasons Alex had. Although he couldn’t prove it, he had the feeling they’d helped him out some behind the scenes.

  The life he’d begun to build here wasn’t half bad. He had a job and his own little living space. Not much more than one room, with a reconstituter, a comm channel, and one entertainment channel. Still …

  Alex leaned back and put his feet up.

  He had the companionship of the other employees at Nelly’s, that was something. His regular customers -- the ones who came for the socializing and to soak in as much human interaction as they could before they headed back to their source of livelihood in all its solitary splendor -- they craved the back and forth of the rituals of conversation as much as Alex had come to.

  One thing he hadn’t craved, though, was sex. He’d had a lifetime’s worth back at Earthly Delights. Several lifetimes, in fact. If he never touched, or was touched by, another human being again for the rest of his life, that would be A-okay with him.

  If that was true, though, why had he done both?

  He’d let Sandy touch him. Just an arm around the shoulders, true, but still it was something he hadn’t allowed anyone else to do since he’d landed on Doradus. He’d even touched back and it had been… tolerable.

  And then there’d been the kiss.

  His almost nightly conversations with Sandy had started out as purely business, on Alex’s part, anyway. He’d worked Sandy just like any other gullible customer, smiling and doing his best to simulate flirtation to sell more drinks for the house. Alex didn’t feel guilty. That was his job, after all -- and about the only thing his twisted background had left him qualified to do.

  But somewhere along the line, what had begun as strictly professional had become personal and he’d started looking forward to the big man’s presence. To looking into Sandy’s brown eyes, the lines at the corners testimony to the man’s sunny good nature. To the low rumble of Sandy’s laughter as Sandy alternately teased and mocked him.

  Sandy had never flirted back, though.

  Not until last night, that is, and it had scared the hell out of Alex. Either Sandy was faking it, in which case he was dangerous because the act had been so utterly convincing, or he wasn’t and Sandy wanted Alex.

  Alex wasn’t sure which was more frightening.

  Chapter 4

  “Hi, there. What can I get you tonight?” A cute redhead slapped a cocktail napkin down on D’abu’s table since he was, for once, not sitting at the bar. Just enough of a costume to be decent, the boy managed to convey both worldliness and naïve enthusiasm, like he’d just discovered fucking and couldn’t wait to make up for lost time.

  Despite a gorgeous body, the combination left D’abu cold and it was no hardship to pretend he was already taken. Turning down the unspoken invitation in those pretty, brown eyes became an act of honor -- chivalry, even -- instead of a complete lack of interest. “Adrastean ale, please. Extra cold. Tap, not container?”

  “You got it. My name’s Shae. I’ll be right back with that, so don’t go away.” The flirtatious smile combined with the sidelong glance confirmed D’abu’s gut instinct that Shae had been angling for a little extra business. Did the house take a percentage of credits earned on after-hours activities? D’abu wondered.

  “I’m not moving.” When Shae didn’t either, D’abu raised an eyebrow. “Looking forward to that ale, though. I’m pretty thirsty.”

  The boy didn’t have enough experience to play off the fact he’d been caught staring. “Oh, um… right. Be right back.”

  “I won’t be.” Starting to have a little fun at the server’s expense, D’abu repeated himself. “Still not moving.”

  “Right. Okay. Be right back.”

  Shae swung by another table on his way back to the bar and following his progress gave D’abu the excuse he needed to swivel in his chair and gaze at the tall figure in black behind it. Alex had done something different with his hair tonight, something smooth yet fluffy that made D’abu’s fingers itch to sift through it. He’d have to find a way to work that into the boyfriend act.

  When the pint-sized waiter finally made it to the bar in the back, he leaned over and gestured A
lex closer; Alex complied, laughing almost immediately in response to whatever it was Shae told him. D’abu loved -- absolutely loved -- the way Alex threw his head back and laughed. Full-bodied, seemingly so carefree. Was he the only one who could hear the pain it was hiding? It couldn’t have been more obvious to D’abu, but then he’d put in more hours observing than most, probably.

  Alex suddenly looked up and stared straight at D’abu. A smile spread slowly over his face, his eyes taking on a heavy-lidded, I’m-thinking-about-fucking-you look. Holding the look for several seconds, Alex finally nodded a little, dragging the full lower lip between his teeth before licking at his upper lip.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

  Now D’abu spread his legs a bit to accommodate the swelling in his pants -- in response to a look. One simple look and he was getting hard. Good God.

  Sandy was half-way to rising out of his seat when another waiter tapped Alex’s arm, pulling his attention away from D’abu. Sandy sat back down, covering his frustration by tugging at his pants and adjusting himself. If someone hadn’t interrupted, he would have…

  What? Pushed his way across the crowded nightclub and laid one on Alex? Grabbed the man with both hands and kissed him until they both gasped for air? Sandy still had a firm enough grip on reality to realize that it might spell trouble and that it didn’t sound like a half-bad idea at all. He was supposed to be steadying himself, not picturing Alex’s face between his own hands as he helped himself to one lingering kiss after another.

  “Here you go.” Shae was back with his drink and Sandy was reaching for his paycard when the waiter put a restraining hand on Sandy’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. Alex took care of it.”

  Glancing quickly in Alex’s direction, but getting no clues from Alex, who was busily preparing drinks behind the bar, Sandy looked back to Shae. “What do you mean, Alex took care of it?”

  A shrug. “He took care of it -- put it on his employee card. I didn’t realize you two were together.” The redhead was openly scanning Sandy’s assets now.

  “He… what? Goddamn it, he’s not supposed to be doing that. I told him—.” He hadn’t really, but that wasn’t the point. Sandy reached for his card again, this time giving Shae no choice but to take it. “Here.”

  “Uh, whatever. You two’ll have to work that out on your own time. I don’t know what you want me to do with this.” He indicated the card Sandy had thrust at him. “The drink’s already paid for.”

  Sandy only barely resisted telling the suddenly snippy waiter what he could do with the card. Smart-mouthed kid like him probably carried lube on him at all times, anyway. Pissed, but realizing he wasn’t going to get any satisfaction out of harassing the help, Sandy glared as he grudgingly took his card back. “I’ll straighten this out with Alex later.”

  “Okay. I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess.” Another sweep of that impudent glance over Sandy’s body and the little waiter was gone.

  Sitting back down, Sandy took a swig of his ale, still fuming. Goddamn… stupid… Alex. Sandy couldn’t even form a decent sentence. It wasn’t all bruised ego on his part. Sandy would have no problem with Alex buying him a drink… a dinner. Hell, a hundred dinners. If -- and this was a big ‘if’ -- Alex had the money.

  Alex didn’t have the money, though.

  Sandy knew for a fact that when Alex had arrived on Doradus the only thing he’d had to call his own besides the clothes on his back was a raging drug addiction. Alex’d been too much of a mess at first to perform any kind of paying job and had survived by promising future labor to Nelly’s co-owner and operator, Joe Sotheran. That the pile of debt Alex had run up wasn’t double its size was due primarily to behind-the-scenes help from Sandy’s teammates, Sarhaan and Kai. Later Sandy had helped out, too, although Sandy hadn’t felt the need to inform anyone beyond Alex’s boss of that little arrangement.

  It was all well and good to lay down some cover fire to confuse the enemy, but they needed to be smart about it. Sandy wasn’t about to let Alex jeopardize his future by throwing around credits he didn’t have.

  Two minutes later Sandy was standing at the bar, a stool miraculously becoming available at the precise moment he appeared. Alex was working the other end of the bar for the moment, but Sandy could wait, so he sat and nursed the ale Alex had paid for. When a half-hour had gone by and Alex still hadn’t made his way anywhere close to where Sandy was sitting, it became harder and harder for Sandy to tell himself that Alex was just busy.

  “Teddy. Hey, bud.” Sandy signaled to Teddy, another bartender who frequently worked in tandem with Alex. “Could you tell Alex I need to talk to him when he’s got a second?”

  Word must be spreading because Teddy gave him a wink and an indulgent smile to go with his, “You bet,” before he moved away to take care of an impatient customer waving a credit chip.

  Good. The sooner word got around, the easier things would be for Alex.

  Tonight’s theme at Nelly’s seemed to be “School Days,” a nod to everyone’s fantasy of what things could have been like if only they’d been more self-assured, had better hair, or been in with the in crowd. The three athletic young men on stage were putting the set’s gymnastic equipment to good use, a pommel horse currently enduring a workout its inventor had probably never envisioned.

  Sandy wondered briefly what Alex’s school experience had been like. Relatively certain that Alex hadn’t been one of the cool kids, Sandy had no trouble picturing him active in drama. One of those arty, ‘Come on kids, let’s put on a show!’ types.

  “Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?”

  Alex must have snuck up while Sandy was immersed in his fantasy of an adolescent Alex. The tilt of his chin was cocky, but the shadow behind Alex’s eyes took all the steam out of Sandy’s argument. More than anything, Sandy wanted never to see that look in Alex’s eyes again.

  “Alex.”

  Hands braced on the bar, a towel dangled from one of Alex’s hands -- long hands, surprisingly broad for someone as lanky as Alex.

  “Sandy.”

  “I told you, I don’t want you spending your money on me.” Sandy spoke loud enough for an obviously eavesdropping Teddy to be able to hear.

  “And I told you, I’ll spend my money on you if I want to.”

  The music was still thumping, indolent and sexy; the low buzz of the crowd’s chatter as they watched the stage show was full of the expectation of promises as yet unfulfilled. Why was it getting to Sandy tonight when he’d been a regular patron for so long he’d long since considered himself immune?

  Must be the eyes.

  Alex’s smoldering blue eyes gazed down at him and they were having an effect on him. It couldn’t be an accident. Alex had to know the power of those eyes.

  “Alex, we agreed…”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to any such thing.” Alex’s beautiful face was somehow only inches away. Who had moved in on who? “If I promise not to do it again, can we kiss and make up? I hate it when you’re mad at me.” Alex’s voice had gone as smoky as the room, and those lips… Sandy had a hundred Alex fantasies and every one began and ended with those full, provocative lips. Alex hooked two fingers in Sandy’s shirt, tugging him closer. “Tell me you’re not still mad at me,” he coaxed.

  As their lips met, Sandy’s eyes drifted shut, his heart suddenly pounding. He couldn’t believe Alex was kissing him. Alex had boundary issues -- big ones -- and Sandy had imagined that it might take weeks or even months before Alex would feel comfortable enough to initiate anything. But his mouth was warm and soft, his tongue silky smooth as it flirted briefly with Sandy’s mouth.

  The hand in Sandy’s shirt relaxed a little, but otherwise stayed where it was, fingers curling into Sandy’s chest. Trying to coax Alex further, Sandy opened his mouth a little, but Alex pulled away and Sandy groaned in protest. “Alex.”

  “I’ll be off in a couple of hours. See you then?”

  Prying his eyes open, Sandy leaned into Alex’s hand as it stroked the
side of his face. Pressing his face deeper into Alex’s hand, Sandy caught site of Joe Sotheran and Nick Andrade, standing side by side, talking quietly as they watched the room.

  “Sandy?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

  He hadn’t even gotten to touch Alex’s hair.

  ***

  Alex and Teddy worked steadily, cleaning up the bar area, making sure the glasses were gathered up for the kitchen crew to wash and the liquor put away in locked cabinets. Even though parts of Nelly’s were open continuously, the live floor shows for which it was famous, the bars, and wait staff were only scheduled during peak business hours. The rooms available for rent to anyone inspired by one of the shows were scheduled according to availability, pretty much any time of the artificial day or night. Anyone so moved but without a companion could, of course, be accommodated -- for an appropriate fee.