by A. C. Thomas
The other wrist took even less time. Theo worked it free and shook the feeling of idleness from his fingers while Jun tore the remaining tape from the arms of the chair. Strips of plastic upholstery came off with the tape, the damage merely adding to the patina of wear along the uneven surface.
Theo examined his jacket cuff to find that the tape had marred the velvet, pulling delicate fibers free of the weave in chunks. He rubbed his wrist as he clambered to his feet, grateful that Jun had refrained from putting the harsh adhesive directly on his bare skin. “I suppose I should consider myself fortunate you decided not to gag me after all.”
They were standing far too close to each other, crowded together between the chairs. Jun studied him with an intensity that had Theo squirming in place, heat curling low in his abdomen.
“Not yet,” Jun said, catching and keeping Theo’s gaze. He then turned and walked out of the cockpit.
Theo stood frozen in place until his body reminded him of his priorities, and he rushed to follow. Jun led him through a narrow corridor to an open doorway, which he gestured to with a sharp slash of his hand.
“The head’s through there. I’ll wait outside.”
Theo took advantage of the facilities, astonished to find them spotless if a little cramped. He stepped back out under Jun’s watchful glare. The captain had remained standing at attention just where Theo had left him.
Theo’s mother would approve of his posture, if nothing else. He’d wager Jun could sit still and straight-backed in her parlor for absolute ages. Unlike Theo, whose record for sitting still had just been broken by a judicious application of tape.
Jun didn’t move except to point back into the room with his chin.
“What?” Theo asked, glancing over his shoulder in bewilderment. He’d definitely washed his hands and could not imagine what else he might have missed.
Jun repeated the motion with his chin, jaw set. “There’s the bed. It’s late. Go to sleep.”
Theo surveyed the small chamber, almost entirely taken up by a single thin mattress set into a metal platform. This appeared to be the only habitable room besides the cockpit. As far as he could tell, the rest of the ship was composed of storage rooms stuffed to the gills with large metal crates. Which led to a pertinent question.
“Where will you sleep?”
Jun’s gaze slid from Theo down to the bed and back, a frown settling onto his face like it was getting cozy before the fire, comfortable and familiar there. “Doesn’t matter.”
He leaned back against the wall and hit the light panel, sending them into the dark of the night cycle, the cabin now lit only by the soft glow of the emergency lights lining the hallway.
In the deepened shadows, Jun’s cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut oneself on.
Theo would certainly enjoy trying anyway.
A blanket—a soft pile of well-worn material—lay draped across the foot of the bed. Of an indeterminate gray color, and clearly homemade in an uneven open knit, it gave the cold, dark room a softening flair of personalization.
Theo picked it up, rubbed the chunky yarn between his fingers.
It smelled faintly of leather and ozone and clean man. The same fragrance that had burned itself into Theo’s mind when those tattooed fingers had pressed over his mouth.
It smelled like Jun.
Theo stifled the impulse to bury his face in the blanket and roll around on the mattress like a pig in mud. That would likely be frowned upon.
He perched on the edge of the mattress, smoothing the blanket as he swung his feet. “This is your bed, isn’t it?”
Jun shifted against the wall and slid down to sit with one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent at the knee. The light from the hallway caught his face just enough for Theo to know he was being observed.
Curling his legs under himself, Theo leaned on one wrist while he wrapped the other hand around his ankle. Ari would have been horrified to see him put his shoes on the bed. He held back a private grin at the small taste of rebellion. “Not much of a conversationalist, are you? That’s alright; neither is my brother. I’ve learned to adapt so that I can talk enough for the both of us.”
Jun didn’t say anything, but his boot scuffed against the floor. Theo took that as confirmation that he should continue.
“Where are we going? Will we get there by morning? Do you suppose we’ll have time to stop for coffee? Ari likes to fuss about caffeine, but I’ve never noticed much of a difference. It doesn’t seem to have an effect on me, but I like the ritual of it in the mornings. Are you a morning person? I adore a nice crisp sunrise more than anything except perhaps a good book. Do you have any books in your crates? There are so many on your ship. If it were my ship, most of them would have books inside.”
Jun’s head hit the wall behind him with a thunk, eyelids squeezing shut as he pressed one hand to his forehead. “Tell me you do not talk in your sleep.”
Theo considered, stretching his neck as he leaned further back against the bed. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never had complaints from Ari, but then again, he sleeps like a petrified log. I’m not sure he would have noticed even if I managed a song and dance in my sleep.”
Jun’s head raised up at the word “he.” His eyes traced over Theo’s face before turning to stare at the wall, his hand rolled into a fist on top of his bent knee. “Shut your mouth and go to sleep.”
Theo sat up with a thoughtful hum and crossed his legs into a pretzel. “No, thank you. I’m not particularly tired. It has been a rather exciting evening; I am far too wound up for sleep, I’m afraid.”
Jun groaned softly, sending Theo’s brain spiraling straight into the gutter. “Just lie down and be quiet.”
Theo sat quietly for a moment, and then two, and he made it all the way to three before he had to move. He started by humming and ended with clapping his hands against his folded knees and singing a bawdy Verge shanty about a widow and her pair of ducks.
Jun sat up from the wall, jaw tight and shoulders tense. “Stop that.”
Theo sang louder, bouncing against the mattress just a little, in time with the melody, delighting in having gained Jun’s full attention.
Jun pushed to stand with a growl, baring his teeth. Something low in Theo’s belly quivered at the sight. “Stop singing. Go to sleep.”
Theo started the first verse over again gleefully as Jun stomped closer with such single-minded determination that he tripped against the edge of the mattress just as he reached out his hand to cover Theo’s mouth.
They fell together in a tangled heap, Theo’s second verse breaking off under Jun’s rough fingers.
Jun’s hand was hard against his lips as he pinned him to the bed with a forearm across his collarbone and a muscled thigh over his hips.
Theo froze, ice running through his veins.
When this had happened before, it had been thrilling, adventurous. This felt different. Simply by virtue of being horizontal upon a bed.
The darker implications could no longer be ignored.
Jun’s hips shifted minutely, an unmistakable hard line pressing against Theo’s thigh, and Theo slammed his eyes shut, breathing noisily against Jun’s fingers as he started to tremble.
Rearing back, Jun fell off of the bed in his haste to release him.
Theo covered his own mouth against the awful sobbing noises erupting from his chest, fingertips numb with shock.
As Jun jumped to his feet, he shook his head over and over again, eyes wide on Theo’s tear-stained face. “No. I wouldn’t. I would never.”
Theo curled into a ball, crying harder at the sound of his voice, deep and harsh and overloud in the tiny chamber.
Jun’s footsteps were heavy as he backed out of the room. He left the door open behind him, and Theo could hear him pacing in the narrow hallway.
He buried his face in the blanket, then kicked it away as the scent of Jun flooded his senses.
The familiar sense that he’d made an error in judgeme
nt settled all around him.
Theo wanted Ari here to talk things through. To help make sense of things. To lend a shoulder to cry on like he always did.
He needed his twin.
A horrible thought pushed to the forefront of his mind—that Theo wasn’t going to see his brother. Not today. Not tomorrow. Possibly not ever again.
Perhaps another, more forward-thinking person would have considered this right away, but Theo was not that person.
Theo had been equipped at birth with an external impulse-control unit named Aristotle. “Considering the consequences” had always been Ari’s job. Theo had been more than happy to outsource those thoughts. He preferred to focus on other things. Ari kept him from making mistakes like this, usually.
He had never been so far away from him before.
Whatever was he going to do?
Chapter Four
“Sorry. For scaring you.”
Jun hovered in the doorway, reluctant to breach the threshold as he waited for Theo to get up. He had done enough breaching, already. Felt like the worst kind of brute. Considering that he used to get paid for roughing up his boss’s enemies, he should know how a brute felt.
Exhaustion molded the steel in his spine into brittle lines as he crossed his arms in an attempt to hold himself more tightly together.
Hold it together, Park.
He felt as if he was falling apart, like some Raider junk ship, razor-edged pieces flying off in all directions. Crumbling from within beneath pressure he wasn’t built to withstand.
Theo sat up on the bed, eyes wide with alarm and blazing red hair flying in every direction. He swiftly buttoned his jacket and felt around for something among the sheets without ever looking away from Jun.
Jun kept his gaze respectfully above Theo’s open collar, ignoring the slender throat on display. He had not earned the privilege of seeing things usually kept hidden. An Outlier he might be, but he was no stranger to Core conventions.
With sharp, quick movements, Theo righted his clothing and tied his cravat around his neck, freeing Jun’s gaze to wander as he spat out his response, emerald eyes on fire. “To which occasion do you refer? You do seem to expend an awful lot of energy on intimidation tactics. I would be hard-pressed to pinpoint exactly which you feel the need to apologize for.”
Oh, he knew exactly what Jun was referring to. The little shit.
Stars. He was magnificent.
Jun had not been this blindsided since he was fourteen, joining up with his first Crew only to discover they were a bunch of bloodthirsty bullies with no moral compass.
The feeling of self-betrayal was the same, even if the circumstances couldn’t be more different.
Jun didn’t have time for admiration, for the possibility of it developing into anything more. He didn’t have room in his life for more. Not now.
Certainly not with someone he had wronged so severely.
He kept his gaze steady and contrite, dragging each word out by sheer force of will, harsh and staccato and still only half as awkward as he felt. “Last night, on the bed. I didn’t mean to imply that I would—” He couldn’t even say the word, internally cursing himself for a coward. “—do that. I won’t. So. You don’t need to worry. About that.”
Great.
Very clear, well done, Captain. So commanding. That definitely made up for throwing an innocent man on the bed and pinning him down with your inappropriately invested dick.
He fought the urge to bury his face in his hands, maintaining his authoritative stance by a hair. The back of his neck burned with shame and humiliation he hoped his less-than-willing guest couldn’t see.
Theo scoffed as he yanked the lace at his collar and cuffs into place, his harsh movements against the delicate material only serving to underscore Jun’s guilt at his rough treatment the night before.
Although, Dr. Campbell was already proving to be significantly more substantial than he appeared at first glance. Partially because, at first glance, all Jun had found was astonishing beauty.
It wasn’t fair for him to be so gorgeous. Why couldn’t he have been a doddering old man with whiskers down to his elbows? It was nothing short of the universe punishing Jun for his misdeeds that Theo was made in the exact, bratty shape of his most embarrassing dreams.
Theo gave a disdainful sniff, every inch of him screaming his upper-crust Core background. Jun would know, having endured the same affectation from his Core-born parents for most of his life.
“I suppose,” Theo continued, “I ought to thank you for your chivalry, is that it? You want to assure me that while you are perfectly willing to hurt me, and you wish for me to remain in fear of you, my virtue shall remain intact. How magnanimous of you. Truly, sir, you are a gentleman of the highest order. My knight in shining armor.”
The gun at Jun’s side weighed more heavily in his holster beneath Theo’s accusing gaze. Jun struggled to come up with the words to reassure him that he would not come to harm at Jun’s hands. It was with the full, exhausting knowledge that it was too little, too late, that he finally responded, soft and low. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Really? Excellent.” Theo’s voice had gained an edge that left Jun metaphorically bleeding all over the grungy metal floor. “So I’ll just leave, then, shall I? Whenever I want?”
Panic surged, toppling Jun’s good intentions like a flimsy tower of sticks as he stepped into the room, resisting the urge to reach out and hold Theo in place. “No. You can’t leave.”
Jun had only just found him. Dr. Campbell, the key to the brick wall of code he’d been slamming his head against for over a year. He couldn’t allow him to slip through his guilty, bloodstained fingers, now.
In true, magnificent form, Theo pushed off the bed and stood facing Jun, arms akimbo.
Throughout his career, Jun had stared down heavily armed men twice Theo’s size who weren’t half as fearless. He tried to dampen the fire in his heart that Theo’s snappish tone had set ablaze.
“And precisely how do you intend to enforce my captivity without hurting me?” Theo demanded. “Tape me to another chair? Glue my shoes to the floor like the villain of a children’s story?”
In different circumstances, Jun would have him against the wall with his slender wrists pinned above his head, where he could show Dr. Campbell exactly what his insolence would earn him. Probably twice, before he was done for the night.
But the inestimable Dr. Theo Campbell was Jun’s captive, not his…anything else. He was a crucial component in Jun’s plans. Thousands of lives hinged upon his cooperation. Any attraction Jun might feel, however intense and unexpected, was a distraction he couldn’t afford. In these circumstances, Jun had to think with his head, not with his—
Circumstances being what they were, he kept a respectful distance, meeting Theo’s glare with one of his own, an expression that usually cowed all but the toughest members of his Crew. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
Bare, pink toes curled against the cold metal floor as Theo stalked closer, not in the least intimidated by Jun’s carefully cultivated scowl. “Yes, that’s just what a villain would say, isn’t it? Now, can you do an evil laugh for effect? I’d like to get the full experience.”
Three times. Twice, against the wall, and then once on the bed after Dr. Campbell was all wrung-out and needy.
Under different, less shitty circumstances.
But Jun didn’t have time for thoughts of long red hair and fiery eyes when every ounce of his exhausted focus must remain on his goal.
Or else, what was the point of all this? All of the sacrifice and loss, the compromised ethics, the kidnapping of an innocent academic. And all the other things that kept him awake during his rest cycle.
He had to remain firm, speak honestly and quietly, try not to intimidate while retaining his authority. “I have no intention of hurting you.”
Theo stepped a little closer, lifting his chin, elegant spine rigid with defiance. “I suppose you know what they say abo
ut good intentions? You will or you won’t; your intentions mean nothing. Either way, I’m leaving at the next opportunity, so I imagine you’ll have to decide.”
There was fear in the back of his eyes. Fear matched by the dread in Jun’s chest at the notion of losing him when Jun was finally so close to getting the answers he needed.
Jun fought against pleading. “No. You can’t.” He winced internally as panic echoed in his voice, low and sharp.
Theo strode purposefully toward the doorway Jun was blocking as if he had any idea where he was going. “I suppose we shall just have to wait and see precisely what I can and cannot do.”
Pressing one hand flat to Theo’s warm chest, Jun held him at arm’s length, palm sweaty against the lace of his cravat. In his exhaustion, Jun finally lost control, panic breaking through as he rasped, “People will die.”
It was painfully obvious Theo was not prepared for that. He froze midstep, knee bent as he leaned into Jun’s restraining hand. “What do you mean by that?” Righteous anger leaked out of his voice until only confusion was left behind.
The space between them shrank by slow inches as Jun let Theo fall forward into the step he had been meaning to take. From this distance, he could see the hint of stubble on Theo’s chin, like tiny dots of sunlight caught within the dismal confines of the ship.
“If you don’t help me”—Jun put every ounce of determination into his words, each one weighed and measured—“if you leave now, people are going to die.”
Theo took a sharp breath, and Jun removed his hand, reminded of what a terrifically bad idea it had been to touch him in the first place. Intelligent eyes searched his face as if scanning a complicated document. “What? Which people?”
It was an exceptionally Core thing for him to say, and it sent a flash of rage through Jun like a power surge.
No different than the Quorum, the corrupt Core governing body that blithely ignored the tragedies of those with the misfortune of existing beyond the chosen few planets. Verge settlers and Outliers from the Restricted Sector, who scraped and clawed their way through life outside Core protection, were considered less-than. It made Jun’s blood boil.