Seconds later the requested drink appeared. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks.” Alex kept working; kept mixing drinks and pouring things from bottles and taps as fast as he could. If he kept working, kept going, he could focus on things like getting the proportions right and pleasing the wait staff and customers, rather than what a wreck he’d made of things with Sandy last night. He’d figure something out eventually, but for now he wanted a break from feeling like a miserable failure.
“Good thing you came in, man. Jared’s okay, but he’s no you.” Teddy smiled and gave Alex a wink. He and Teddy made a good team and nights they worked together always went better, with faster service, happier customers, and better tips. “What happened there, anyway? I thought you had the night off.”
Mixing a couple of Fahrenheit 451’s, Alex responded. “Nothing. I just decided I liked eating. I got bills to pay off and I guess Joe’s getting impatient.”
“What about your new fella? He can’t help out?”
“I haven’t asked him.” After scanning the room for the hundredth time -- still no Sandy -- Alex made a show of consulting his vid link for drink orders. Finding only a couple of orders for ale, he began pulling those. “He does too much already.”
Teddy edged closer, his voice dropping to a confidential level. “How is… everything? Are you… I mean… is everything okay, you know, between you two?”
Alex overfilled the glass and searched for a towel to wipe it down. “I don’t know. Pretty good, I guess.”
“Really? Even the…” Teddy’s brown eyes dominated his narrow face, overpowering his pale skin and fair hair. “I didn’t think you ever wanted to get involved with anyone. That’s all I’ve ever heard you say.”
Shrugging, Alex met Teddy’s gaze briefly before reaching for a glass to polish. Anything to keep his hands busy. “I know. But Sandy’s different. He really goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay. You know? I’m not even sure why he’s hanging around. He doesn’t need my kind of grief.”
“Maybe he likes you? I dunno. That’s a lotta man -- you ever think you maybe shoulda started out with something a little smaller? More manageable? Like, what about the new guy?”
“Nick?” Alex’s gaze shot to Teddy’s, but Teddy was looking across to the doorway on the far side of the room where Nick lounged, talking to his partner, Joe Sotheran. Teddy braced himself with one hand on the bar, while the other was shoved deep in one pocket, giving his dick a discreet rub. “Uh, no.” Alex didn’t think he’d let any feeling bleed into his words, but Teddy’s disbelieving gaze nonetheless swung in Alex’s direction.
“O-kay. I hope you know what you’re doing.” Teddy took another glance in Nick and Joe’s direction before reaching to pull down more martini glasses from overhead to fill with ice. “I wouldn’t say no to some o’ that, I’ll tell you what.”
“Knock yourself out.”
“I just might.” Teddy’s voice dropped to a nearly inaudible murmur. “I just might at that.”
***
It was a nice night for a walk.
Every night was a nice night for a walk on Doradus, but Alex tried not to let that discourage him. He’d finished work over an hour ago, but he hadn’t wanted to go back to his room. Not yet. Alex didn’t want to be anywhere anyone might think to look for him and Nelly’s or his room would be the obvious go-to’s when trying to track him down.
He could have hung out with Teddy, probably.
Like a lot of Nelly’s employees, Teddy had a place of his own, just inside of the business-residential divide. Alex didn’t think he could handle it though if he was hanging out with Teddy, trying to unwind, and Nick showed up. Teddy had some pretty weird ideas about what constituted a good time and the last thing Alex wanted was to be anywhere near those two when they thought no one was looking.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Alex kept walking, his fingers worrying the pockets’ contents.
What was he going to do about Sandy?
He really liked Sandy. He wanted to think that maybe Sandy liked him, too. Sandy was different. Alex trusted Sandy and he wasn’t sure quite how that had happened.
The heels of his shoes made a hollow sound on the fake wood sidewalk as Alex walked, passing the mostly-closed businesses. A glowing red sign advertising rooms to rent by the hour made a jarring contrast to the darkened businesses on either side.
The more mundane offerings of clothes chemically-cleaned cheaply and specialty goods catering to assorted ethnic groups from Earth were gradually being infiltrated by other business capitalizing on the success of business like Nelly’s. Nothing succeeded like success and everyone wanted a piece of it.
“Looking for something to do?”
A voice called softly from a doorway, startling Alex out of his daydream. A young man, dark-skinned like Sandy, but with a long, loose braid of hair hanging down to his waist, took a step out of the shadows. Alex took one look at the business’ window display -- an empty chair was the only prop -- and flinched. “No, thanks.”
Alex quickened his pace. Things were different on Doradus and no one would chase him down, but he wanted to be away from the pro and his business as fast as possible. The sex trade might be perfectly legal on Doradus -- well-paid and respected, even -- but the feeling that washed over Alex when his gaze met the boy’s made his skin crawl.
A year ago that had been him.
Not exactly, but close enough.
This man probably set his own schedule, charged according to his own needs, decided who was an acceptable client and who didn’t make it through the door.
Alex hadn’t had any of those luxuries.
He wanted to slam the door on the memories that leaked through, but he couldn’t. Sandy’s voice in his head, asking Alex to fuck him, was there again and Alex knew he needed to find a way to resurrect enough of the old Alex to somehow make that happen.
A chill shook Alex’s body and he chafed his upper arms with his hands. He’d worked hard to bury the Alex that had existed in that world -- only in that world -- for all of those months; months that had turned into years, until it was hard to remember a time when he had had control over his life and his body. When he hadn’t been just an empty receptacle for the fantasies of anyone with money and connections.
Images bombarded his brain, skipping chaotically from person to event to act and back again. From his first, early weeks when he’d been in a state of shock, to later when the drugs and events had numbed him enough that it didn’t hurt simply to breathe, to later still, after he’d existed so long without feeling that it had taken Liam to remind him what that was like.
Liam.
What an amazing amount of guile it must have taken to outwit the handlers. It was Liam that had finally, finally given Alex the courage to act, as well as suggesting to him an escape route. Too bad Alex hadn’t figured things out in time to help Liam, but Alex told himself again that he’d done what he could.
Thinking about Liam brought up the feelings again, only this time they met and mixed with feelings about Sandy.
Why couldn’t he ever seem to get anything right?
Why couldn’t he do what he needed to do not to let people down?
Alex pulled his hands from his pockets again and rubbed his eyes. Damn C02 converters must be on the fritz again; suddenly his eyes were stinging and his nose was starting to run. With nothing else available, Alex wiped his nose on the back of one sleeve and sniffed hard.
Crap. He’d been wandering aimlessly since he got off work and he wasn’t any closer to finding an answer. Too bad he couldn’t ask Sandy what to do.
When the glow of lighted signs from dozens of small businesses, still lit at this hour, seeped into Alex’s consciousness, he realized he’d walked further than he’d meant to.
The Pike.
Doradus’ version of a sailor’s fun zone.
Like Doradus itself wasn’t enough of a huge R-and-R facility, the Pike had evolved as the place to go when your itch co
uldn’t be satisfied anywhere else. Media pods, containing every electronic amusement imaginable and then some, were rentable by the hour. Entertainment included not only games and live news feeds from Mars, the moon, and Earth, but virtual reality chairs, where any experience desired could be experienced. For a price, of course, but that was to be expected.
Alex had heard about it from Teddy and some of the other employees at Nelly’s, but he’d never ventured down before. Some instinct of self-preservation had warned him to stay away and Alex had heeded it. His brain and body had been fully occupied trying to heal; trying to figure out how life as an independent being worked.
Shrugging to himself, Alex kept walking.
He slowed a little, wanting to take in as much as he could as long as he was finally here.
Everywhere people were walking, looking for the perfect entertainment to fulfill their wants and needs. Miners and spacers made up the bulk of the people milling about, people eying each other as much as the booths and kiosks that crowded together, each competing for their share of the credits to be made.
For as much a piece of meat as he’d been treated like back on Earth, it still came as an occasional shock that the sex trade on Doradus was a respected profession, with a pay scale to match. The recreational time specialists -- or RaTS, as they were often referred to -- looked sleek and well-fed.
In direct contrast were the miners, who had neither the time nor access to facilities required to maintain a civilized look, except for their periodic trips to Doradus.
Spacers, on the other hand, had both -- they just didn’t give a shit. They were as far as it was humanly possible to get from Earth, frequently due to a congenital dislike of rules and regulations. Toeing anyone’s line of respectability, including those of hygiene and good manners, didn’t appeal to them and they didn’t care who knew it.
At Nelly’s, decorum was maintained by a well-paid security team whose reputation for professionalism was as widely known as their accuracy with a weapon.
Out here, though, things were a little different.
So busy watching the crowd, Alex didn’t see the space jockey whose shoulder he clipped. Just spun around on one heel, throwing his arms out to reach for something, anything, to catch himself.
“Nataka kushuka hapa!”
The back of his hand smacking something hard, Alex didn’t have time to catch a breath before the tough-looking spacer was in his face, looking him up and down. He realized at nearly the same time that he hadn’t fallen on his ass because helpful hands had caught him, and that the spacer must have changed his mind about something because his sneer had turned speculative.
“Pugunza bei kidogo,wijanga?”
Backing away was impossible; the hands supporting Alex also held him in place, and trying to tug his arms free proved fruitless. “Excuse me, I didn’t see you. I’m so sorry. I don’t speak … Kush?” Alex’s attempt to twist free was as unsuccessful as trying to get a look at whoever restrained him. He craned his neck to no effect, his pulse picking up with every second he was held, unable to retreat.
“Rafiki sisemi kuKush.” This time the normally lyrical Kush language came from behind Alex, its naturally sing-song rhythm coming out unusually harsh and guttural. “Natango hatapa ni riyana. Chini?”
Beginning to turn away now, the spacer’s gaze flicked up to Alex’s captor, before giving Alex a last look. “Sijui sema.” And then he was gone.
Alex was tensing, preparing to fight in earnest to get away, now that the immediate threat was gone. But even as he gathered himself, he was released. Turning, he came face to face with the blond man with the ruined voice. The one who’d insulted Sandy. What was his name? Yeah, Bartok. The shithead.
“If you’re trying to think of a way to thank me, I’ve got an idea.”
Chapter 10
Sandy paused to check the pressure gauge next to the chamber window, found the results unacceptable again, and resumed pacing. He spent half his life these days, it seemed, in pressure chambers waiting to get to the other side. Rubbing a hand over the stubble on top of his head as he paced, he jingled the contents of his pocket with the other.
Damn it.
Glancing at the gauge for the third time in the last two minutes, Sandy willed it to move faster. Amped up and antsy were alien sensations to his body. He’d always been the deliberate one; cool and collected when everyone else was coming out of their skin. Partly his Samoan, Pacific Islander upbringing, partly just his nature, Sandy’d never been the nervous type.
He was on the edge of his control now, though, that was for sure. He’d had all day and half the night to think about Alex and how he’d messed that up. Going over and over it in his head, Sandy’d replayed the scene until it was burned into his brain. Every touch of Alex’s hands, his mouth … God. The way he’d responded to Alex’s touch; the way the slightest brush of Alex’s fingertips over his nipples had lit fires in him.
The startled look on Alex’s face, the way he’d scrambled off the bed, backing away until he’d been stopped by the bulkhead and couldn’t go any further. The boneless slide to the floor, where Alex had sat, long arms wrapped protectively around his legs, compressed into the smallest amount of space he could physically manage.
Stop beating yourself up. You screwed up. Okay, so get past it and see what can be salvaged from it.
If this was a military operation, Sandy would look at his options and choose the one with the best chance of success. He’d have a plan B in mind, and probably a plan C, too. He’d also have his teammates to help him look for fresh angles; things he hadn’t thought of; contingencies he ought to plan for.
This time he couldn’t, though.
Not about Alex.
It was too personal. Too private. He didn’t mind Sarhaan and Kai knowing his business. Hell, after they’d worked together so closely and so long, there wasn’t much about his life they didn’t know. Alex’s business wasn’t Sandy’s to reveal, though. It was just barely possible that Alex didn’t want the details of his personal life dissected like a training op debriefing. He might have a few things he wanted to keep to himself.
So Sandy was facing his problem head-on; tracking Alex down to try and straighten things out. Maybe Alex would tell him to fuck off; to go take his pathetic, needy self somewhere else to get his business take care of.
It was entirely possible.
The final door slid open at last and Sandy headed down the ramp, intent on catching the tram into town. He’d tried repeatedly to comm Alex, but hadn’t been able to reach him. Knowing that it was hours past Alex’s usual quitting time and having logged enough time observing Alex to know the man liked his routine, the change in practice didn’t reassure Sandy any. Alex liked to close the room down, get his clean up and prep for the next shift finished, then head back to his room; he wasn’t at all prone to fits of impulse.
Climbing onto the tram, Sandy propped his feet on the opposing bench, folded his arms across his chest, and settled in for the seventeen minute ride into Doradus proper. He stared at the scuffed toes of his work boots with unseeing eyes as his thoughts again turned inward.
Alex struck Sandy as being something of a homebody, actually, and that got to Sandy-- right in the gut. Although he’d tried not to let himself get ahead of the game, Sandy had to admit he’d been fantasizing a little. Couldn’t seem to help it. He’d been trying out different scenarios in his head -- ways how maybe he and Alex might be able to work something out.
There were so many obstacles in their way, though; to call the odds long was an understatement.
Sandy began to jiggle his feet, idly kicking one against the other, seemingly of their own accord.
Was what he wanted really so awful? So impossible to understand? What was so wrong with liking to be the one getting fucked, rather than the one doing the fucking? So he liked the feeling. So what?
After all this time, Sandy sighed inwardly and shook his head a little at seeing his old enemy pop up again. Every ti
me he thought he’d made peace with all of that...
He knew a lot of people didn’t understand; would look at his size and height and peg him as being a particular way. He couldn’t help it that he liked what he liked and Sandy didn’t see why he should have to apologize for that.
Why couldn’t it be just that simple?
It wasn’t as though he never took the more active role.
Fucking was great. Sandy was a big fan. Sometimes there was nothing better than grabbing onto a set of lean hips and easing in to a tight ass bit by bit. Sinking in slowly then sliding out, groaning at the wicked sweet pleasure of it all. Letting the tempo gradually pick up until you were pounding away, grunting and swearing and slapping that ass.
Off World 2: Sanctuary Page 11