Captivated (The Verge Book 2)

by A. C. Thomas

  The assessment earned a grin from Theo as he deemed it accurate, if incomplete. One must take into account Captain Park’s other qualities. Such as his steadfast dedication to his mission, or his strong, capable hands. Or his thick, beautiful— The point was, Jun was much more than brawn with a scowl.

  Theo observed over Axel’s shoulder as the pilot squinted at a scrolling stream of data on one of the remaining screens. “Boom and Marco, they’re siblings, are they not?”

  Axel nodded distractedly, fingers nimbly working across the screen. Theo watched in fascination as he flipped his arm to a stylus attachment and sketched out a diagram next to some calculations.

  “Isn’t it lovely that they get to work so closely together? I have a twin brother, back home. We do everything together. Sometimes I wonder if we delved so far into academia just to be able to stay close, why we keep working in the same place even though our areas of interest differ so greatly. I miss him terribly, actually. His absence is like a stone in the bottom of my shoe, painful and constant and difficult to ignore. Are Marco and Boom anything like us, do you suppose?”

  Axel gestured absently, frowning at his data as the numbers changed more and more rapidly. “Something like that. Captain couldn’t have hired one without the other; they’re a package deal. Paranoid, you know? Neither one will let the other out of their sight, too afraid to be separated again. Probably because they used to be Disconnects, grew up on one of those nature communes. You know the type. All farmland and sing-alongs. Basket weaving and hand-holding type shit.”

  Theo had no idea what that meant, but it sounded lovely. Idyllic, in a pastoral sense. He cast a skeptical eye around their decidedly non-pastoral surroundings. “However did they go from a life like that to this?”

  Axel’s face closed off, his gaze shifting as if he only just realized he may have said too much. “They hit a rough patch. Hey, you know what? I think you’re ready to graduate from buttons to switches; let’s try some of these.”

  Theo allowed himself to be distracted by flicking switches for a few minutes. He waited until Axel started to relax before speaking again.

  “I had the occasion to meet Marco earlier. Well, I say ‘met.’ Rather, I accidentally ran into him and tried to start a conversation, but the engine room was so loud I doubt he could hear me.”

  Axel’s mouth softened with fond amusement. “Yeah, He’s not much for talking anyway. Can’t relate, personally. He may not have much to say, but he can take an engine apart and put it back together blindfolded, and it would run better than it did before. Plus, he’s stupid-fast on repairs. Park couldn’t get a better engineer if he wanted to.”

  “And I don’t want to.”

  They both jumped at the deep rumble of Jun’s voice.

  “A better pilot, however”—Jun slowly walked closer—“I could definitely use one of those.” He glared at Axel. “What are you doing?” The expression on Jun’s face sent Axel straight to his feet, chair spinning slowly behind him.

  Theo leaned against the dash with a smile. “Axel’s teaching me to fly the ship!”

  Axel sputtered, putting distance between Theo and himself with a studied casualness that was anything but. “Not really, Captain. Just keeping him busy, you know, out of trouble and—”

  “Look! I’m allowed to press all of these buttons!” Theo crowed with glee, demonstrating the code sequence Axel had taught him.

  Jun looked at Axel the way a bored lion might look at a mouse. Not like he was hungry enough to eat it, but like he planned to kill it anyway.

  Axel’s arm whirred and clicked through a few attachments, lightning fast. “Would you look at the time? I need to go do a thing real quick. On the other side of the ship, probably. You guys just chill here; I’ll be right back. In the morning. Maybe.”

  Jun’s glare followed him until the door hissed shut and left them alone on the bridge.

  Theo waited impatiently for Jun’s attention to return to him before toggling one of the switches Axel had assured him was harmless. “See? Another few days under Axel’s tutelage and I’ll be flying the ship!”

  Jun stalked over and closed his hand around Theo’s wrist as he reached for another button. “You’re not going to be under Axel’s anything.”

  Theo deftly turned his wrist to catch Jun’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and Jun puzzled down at their joined hands like he hadn’t been aware they could do that. “Oh? Is there another position open, then, Captain?”

  Narrowing his eyes, Jun yanked his hand away and crossed his arms tightly. “I know what you’re doing.”

  Theo stepped closer, allowing a single finger to trace the lines of Jun’s muscular arms with a grin. “Do you? Oh no. I thought I was being so subtle.”

  After a glance up at the roving eye of a camera in the corner of the room, Jun stared back at Theo meaningfully. “Keep it off the bridge. No public areas. Understood?”

  If anything, Theo only grinned harder, dutifully removing his finger from Jun’s forearm. “You would prefer for me to focus on your private areas, Captain. I understand perfectly.”

  Despite Jun’s eyeroll paired with a groan, the corners of his mouth lifted just enough for Theo to suspect him of a smile. A smile was definitely implied. “Where are my translations?”

  Theo hummed noncommittally, studying the wall of instruments to the rear of the command center. “I am still in the first phase of my work process.”

  The wall was about as hard and unforgiving as Jun’s face. “Procrastination?”

  Some of the screens had been left open. Theo couldn’t help reaching out for one, only to have Jun nudge him aside and close it with a harsh swipe. Theo shrugged at the loss and turned to perch on the edge of Axel’s station. “Less procrastination and more intentional distraction to allow my mind time to process without undue stress.”

  Jun’s face remained within the realm of a scowl, but he managed to make the scowl appear skeptical. “Distraction is part of your process?”

  Jun’s dry tone was unwarranted, in Theo’s estimation, given that he knew nothing about Theo’s work beyond a single barely published academic paper. “Oh yes, always has been. You are certainly not the first to doubt my process. You should see the behavior notes from all of my professors over the years, absolutely abysmal, every one. It was always ‘Theo is a chatterbox, Theo won’t stop daydreaming, Theo is incapable of maintaining his focus, Theo is easily distracted’ and never anything in the least complimentary; whereas, my brother always received a glowing report.”

  For which Theo was not in the least resentful, or envious, or anything of the sort. Would it have been nice to have, just once, been the twin most deserving of praise? Of course, but it really wasn’t Ari’s fault he was such a quiet little delight of a mouse. Not any more than it was Theo’s fault he was a chaotic disaster.

  Theo in no way resented the fact that Aristotle was a perfect student, and son, and colleague, while Theo had been more often described as “something of a nightmare.” He simply accepted what was, and stomped firmly down on any nagging, negative emotions associated with the comparison.

  Theo picked up the tangled bit of wire cast aside on the dash and pulled at it carefully to wind into a coil around his finger, twisting the ends into little loops and lines. He held it up triumphantly after a few moments of concentration. “Ha. Look, Jun, I made a star in miniature!”

  Jun’s face twitched into something very strange that was neither irritation nor amusement yet managed to convey a little of both. He plucked the star from Theo’s hands but didn’t crush it, the delicate figure held carefully in his palm.

  “Get back to work. Now.” Jun’s voice held a familiar note of exasperation underscored by something warm. Theo hesitated to label it as fondness, painfully aware of the seductive powers of wishful thinking.

  Theo thought back longingly about the still unpressed buttons as he trudged toward his room.

  No one ever understood his process.

  C
hapter Thirteen

  The bridge was fully manned by the time Theo returned the next day, pad in hand and new translations on the tip of his tongue.

  Jun stood at the central console, upright and alert, bringing to mind the oft-revisited image of Professor Gladwell at his lectern.

  Although, Theo’s memory of Professor Gladwell paled in comparison to the sight of Jun commanding his ship.

  It was not unlike comparing a poodle to a wolf, actually. One, all elegant lines and placid restraint, and the other, bristling with barely contained raw power. Axel sat in the same place Theo had first discovered him, only five screens open and none of them noticeably pornographic. Theo was sure that had something to do with Jun’s stance at the console directly behind Axel’s station.

  Boom leaned over another console off to the side, surrounded by dozens of tiny screens streaming images from all over the ship, both interior and exterior. Theo could see Marco working with some wiring on the engine room screen.

  Boom’s head swiveled in Theo’s direction as he walked in, eyes raking him over, and then she turned back to her screens in clear dismissal.

  Once he had scanned the room, Theo decided on the console across the wall from Boom. He tried to walk over quietly and settle in the chair with minimum disruption, but in the time-honored tradition of Theo’s efforts to keep quiet, he failed in spectacular fashion. He carefully, slowly placed his pad directly on top of something that set off flashing blue lights and a wailing siren throughout the ship.

  Axel cursed loudly in Patch, slamming his hand over one of his ears as Jun turned with full-bodied disapproval in Theo’s direction.

  After stalking over to yank Theo’s pad away, Boom pulled up a projection screen and entered in a series of complex codes. The lights and siren cut off abruptly, Axel’s continued shouting amplified in the sudden absence of sound.

  Boom reached behind the console and retrieved a thick plexiboard. She slammed it down across the panel and locked it in place with efficient movements.

  It was a scramble for Theo to catch his pad as she tossed it over her shoulder and stomped back to her console with a long-suffering sigh.

  The heat of a deep blush crept along the roots of his hair and ran beneath his open collar. He had decided, given the casual apparel of his crew mates, to forgo his waistcoat and cravat. There was something deliciously thrilling in going about his day half-dressed. Now, however, he felt a trifle too exposed under their universally disapproving glares.

  Plastering on a winning smile, he waved his pad cheerily as he swiveled his chair side to side. “I suppose that is one way to wake everyone up, isn’t it? While I have your attention, allow me to wish a splendid morning to you all! Isn’t it a perfectly lovely day? I was just thinking how delightful it was to begin the day with fresh fruit. Exceedingly rare to enjoy such a luxury on interplanetary journeys.”

  Axel turned his glare on Jun, who twisted his face in a slight wince, avoiding Axel’s eyes. “Wait. I thought you said we were out of fruit? Why does he get fruit, Captain?”

  Jun ignored Axel entirely and focused on Theo. He rolled his shoulders beneath his holster and clasped his hands behind his back, standing straight and tall and about ten times more still than Theo had ever managed in his life. “What are you doing here?”

  It was difficult for Theo to maintain his smile under the blunt force of Jun’s scowl. “I thought it might be nice to continue my work up here with all of you. I am not much of a solitary creature, I’m afraid. I do my best work in the company of others. Silence and solitude are never my companions of choice.”

  Scrutinizing Theo from his fidgeting spats to his finger-combed hair, Jun gave a sharp nod and turned back to his console.

  Axel watched Jun’s every motion with a slowly spreading grin. His eyes twinkled at Theo as Jun turned away. “Whatcha working on, dollface?”

  Jun stiffened at the nickname and turned the heat of his frown on Axel. Axel appeared completely immune as he unconcernedly picked his teeth with a narrow, sharp attachment on his arm.

  Attention on his pad, Theo remained determined to keep his word. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Axel whistled obnoxiously, boots thunking as he propped them on the dash. “Top secret, is it? Bet the captain’s got you keeping all kinds of secrets, huh, Doll?”

  “He’s not a Doll,” Jun snapped. “And boots on the floor, pilot, or I’ll take every scuff and scratch on that console out of your pay.”

  Axel dropped his boots, muttering petulantly in Patch.

  Ignoring him, Jun turned his head fractionally in Theo’s direction. “Dr. Campbell.”

  Theo frowned, confused by his formal address. He waved a hand magnanimously. “Oh, do call me Theo, please. Dr. Campbell has always suited my father and brother far better than it ever suited me. I’m not one to stand upon ceremony. There’s something about the air of authority the title lends that has never seemed to agree with me. Perhaps because I never seem to agree with authority either.”

  Jun’s expression glazed over as Theo rambled, then sharpened when he paused for breath. “Theo. Have you made progress?”

  Everyone on the bridge seemed focused on their conversation. Theo arched an inquisitive brow at Jun. “Am I permitted to discuss the particulars, Captain?”

  Jun’s face hardened. Theo had not realized how relaxed the captain had been until suddenly he wasn’t anymore. His whole body shifted into something bigger and meaner, and oh, stars, Theo really ought to be concerned with his own lack of self-preservation instincts. Because a bigger and meaner Jun looked absolutely scrumptious to him.

  “No details. Just tell me how much is left.”

  Theo concealed his shiver at the rolling depth of Jun’s voice by fidgeting with his pad. He shifted to cross his legs in his chair. “It isn’t an entirely linear process, you understand. Sometimes, I can translate bits and pieces that lead me on a meandering path to entire phrases, but the initial translations tend to be quite scattered.”

  “Percentage,” Jun barked, sending Theo jolting in his seat and scrabbling to catch his pad.

  “Oh, well, maths are hardly my area of expertise, but I would say perhaps 20 percent of the passage has been translated. Given considerable room for error in my statistics.”

  Jun continued to stare him down, face hard and shoulders square. Theo did his utmost to avoid either melting into the floor or climbing those shoulders. He had the distinct impression that neither response would be appreciated.

  “Acceptable.”

  The release of pressure when Jun cut his eyes away left Theo inhaling shakily as he squirmed in his seat.

  His mind drifted through poetic raptures over the captain’s spectacular rear view when he turned to bark at Boom in Patch, sending her swiping through vid feeds of the ship exterior with a frown.

  Theo explored new ways to sit in his chair after he refocused on the passage, curling one knee underneath himself as he lay on his side, head propped against the armrest.

  The rest of the crew settled into acting as if he wasn’t there. Axel provided running commentary on everything from funny animal vids to exotic cuisine while Jun and Boom answered with monosyllabic grunts and the occasional mild threat.

  Theo rather enjoyed the novelty of being the quiet one in the room. It had never happened to him before. Possibly due in part to the constant presence of his painfully shy twin.

  There was a sharp twinge in his chest at the thought of Ari, back home and alone. By now, he must have spoken with everyone who Theo usually interacted with so Ari didn’t have to. Even their gregarious postman, whose insistence on small talk practically gave Ari hives. Poor darling.

  Theo hoped Ari was not holed up in his laboratory, gazing lovingly at his rocks while he wasted away from malnourishment. Never mind the fact that it was typically Ari who had to remind Theo to eat. Without Theo bustling around, would Ari ever consider leaving his beloved laboratory at all?

  He had always prefe
rred rocks to people. “Minerals,” he would have corrected Theo scathingly. Honestly, one would think he had never—

  Theo straightened in his seat, fingers flying across his pad as words slotted neatly into place within his mind, each one building upon the next as they sharpened and honed down into coherency. The familiar thrill of discovery coursed through his veins, sending him to his feet as he finished decoding a new chunk of text. “Jun?”

  Jun’s shoulders tightened as he glanced over his shoulder with eyebrows so daunting Theo might have thought twice about approaching. Had he been the type to think twice about anything. “Pardon me, Captain.” He corrected himself with a roll of his eyes, ignoring Axel’s snort of amusement. “Would it please you to know the translation of the first significant portion of this passage? I can always return later if this is an inopportune time. You do seem to be terribly busy with distributing your unpleasant disposition evenly amongst your crew.”

  Boom’s snort outshone Axel’s in both volume and duration.

  Jun didn’t spare her an ounce of his attention. Instead, he made a sharp gesture with his chin toward the door, then stalked through with the clear expectation Theo was to follow.

  Scrambling after him, Theo knocked his elbow into a switch that thankfully did not seem to trigger any lights or sirens. He flipped it back to the original position as discreetly as possible, just in case.

  Jun waited for him in the corridor, arms crossed and brows lowered.

  Theo held up his pad as he approached. “If you would care to look here, I can explain the—”

  Without a word, Jun snatched the pad and turned away. He stepped into the battered lift and slapped the control panel. Theo barely made it inside before the door banged shut behind him. Had he been wearing his jacket, his tails might have been caught. The near miss spiked his heart rate as he stumbled into the lift.

  When the door opened onto the second level, Jun tucked the pad under his arm and slid his hand loosely around Theo’s wrist. The line where Theo’s shirt cuff ended and their skin pressed together buzzed with awareness. He found himself staring down at Jun’s rough hand around the fine bones of his wrist.