Chapter 10

TEN

B ehind closed lids, Felix could still see the line of tattoos that followed Zed's spine. The string of planets, each labeled in curved script. Groin tightening, he recalled the way they appeared to pulse and move as Zed had flexed beneath him, rocking back to meet every thrust. A thrill danced through his gut as he briefly relived that second orgasm, and the way Zed had shuddered and cried out.

But now, the boneless feeling had left him and the circle of Zed's arms had started to confine. Restlessness tickled across his skin like an itch. Over the past few years, Felix had developed a habit: fuck 'em and leave 'em. It was time to escape.

Zed wasn't just another lover, though. He was…Zed.

Scrubbing his hands over his cheeks, Felix turned to answer Zed's quiet prompt. Talk to me. What about? Zed still lay sprawled. His eyes had an unfocused look to them, like someone who'd had too much to drink. He'd come hard, which could account for it, but a niggle of apprehension warned him that the man on the bed was not the same man he remembered. Hell, he didn't even need the warning to figure that one out.

"I'm not supposed to be the thoughtful one." Felix met Zed's gaze, briefly, before trying to find somewhere else to rest his gaze, somewhere that wasn't bare skin. A difficult task as Zed was a large man. "I'm also supposed to be the cuddly one." Felix managed a half smile at that, something like a smirk. "Being chatty during sex…I haven't done that…" Since you.

Zed's brow furrowed, but the muscle in his jaw did not tick. Felix's half smile twitched at the thought he'd fucked that bit of tension right out of him.

"It's different with you," Zed said, his voice soft. "Always has been." His fingers trailed across the circuitry tattooed over Felix's ribs. A gift from Zed the last time they'd been together. Like Zed's planets, his circuits no longer appeared animated unless he moved. "I sort of thought it wouldn't be, this time, but I guess that was stupid, huh."

Felix pushed air through his nostrils in what he wanted to be a dismissive snort, but his smile felt too real as he turned away to hide any show of emotion from the man who plucked so easily at his heart. Zed's fingers continued to tickle his skin, the touch not sensual, more than a casual caress. They were linked…in so many ways. Felix had felt the tug the moment he recognized Zed in the mess, and just a short while ago when they were joined in the most intimate way possible.

He put his hand over Zed's. The larger hand lifted beneath his and Felix let their fingers entwine. In his chest, his heart complained, hitching and squeezing. He breathed out carefully. "It was just supposed to be sex. I guess that makes me stupid too."

"So if it's not just sex…It's not nine years ago, Flick."

"I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

Zed didn't answer, growing quiet and still. Then, his fingers pulled away from Felix's. "Right." The mattress shifted as Zed scooted to the end of the bed. He squinted at the floor, obviously looking for his pants. Then he paused, his shoulders rounding like the weight of the galaxy had suddenly dropped on them.

"Look," Zed said, turning around, "I've been trying not to think of the future too much, for a long time. Day to day is better. Promises…promises are a bad idea. I'm not going to make any, and I don't want any from you. I don't know if that helps, or…" His shoulders lifted again, briefly, as he returned to his pants search.

It did and it didn't. Felix didn't want a promise, not really, because all promises given to him had been broken. But…he wanted a promise. He'd wanted one back then and he wanted one now.

Can't have one, Flick.

Fixer. My name is Fixer.

His name was Felix Ingesson, and the strength that had pulled him through hell and out the other side had abandoned him. He felt like the reed that had forgotten how to bend, and Zed was the breath of wind that would break him.

"Day to day." Felix didn't realize he'd spoken until his throat moved and the sound of his voice drifted up to his ears. He met Zed's indistinct gaze. Breath catching in his throat, he offered a nod. "We've got a job to do." He didn't dare hope they could talk after that. Hope was just another kind of promise. Felix wrapped his arms around his ribs and whispered, "Sorry."

Zed found his pants and put them on, his shadow flexing across the opposite wall. Felix watched the silhouette move, satisfied with the small distance it gave him from the man behind. Then a hand touched his shoulder.

"Don't be sorry, Flick." Zed's voice sounded strained. He squeezed Felix's shoulder and then fidgeted in place a moment. "I guess I'll…" Zed glanced over at the door.

"Yeah."

"It, uh…" He cleared his throat. "It was good."

Another half smile. "Better than."

"Yeah." Zed's answering smile had a sad tilt to it. "Better than." He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more, but remained silent as he started for the door. The hatch slid open and he stepped through without a backward glance.

Felix watched the door close and continued to sit there, watching and waiting, as if he expected it to open again, for Zed to throw himself through, roll him back on the bed and utter the promises he'd promised not to make. The door didn't open, but the vent above did, blasting cool air into the room. Felix shivered as goose pimples prickled his skin. He bent forward to scoop up his underwear and, feeling lazy at last, worked the shorts over his knees while still seated, rocking his hips in order to pull them over his ass. He sat there, still cold, still despondent, still feeling like he might break, until another puff of recirculated air washed over his face, the smell of dust, smoke and old ship parts teasing his nostrils. Normally, Felix found the scent comforting. It meant he was on the Chaos, his version of home. With his heart plodding sorely, however, the smell only served to remind him of everything he didn't have.

He leaped from the bed and turned to the corner of the room dedicated to exercise. Being quartered near engineering had its advantages—he had a lot of space to call his own, including room for a kick bag and mat. His arms rose in a defensive posture out of habit, both cocked in front of his torso, his right hand curled into a fist, the left a stiff parody. Without thought, he spun into a back kick, aiming to work through every kick he knew in an effort to wear himself down, exorcise the tension from his limbs, get to feeling truly fucked.

For a while, his plan worked. A side kick flowed into a spinning back kick. Inside crescent to an outside crescent. Low and high roundhouse. Spinning hook. Extended front kick. Blade kick. Hopping between, he switched stances, left to right, and began again, throwing punches between his kicks, working the bag over as if it were a demon, or the closest approximation: one of the stin.

Fucking stin. It wasn't enough that they'd ravaged humanity, no, their talons had to poke at individuals, too, steal years, family, friends…

Anger coursing through his veins, Felix yelled and cursed with each new strike. He worked until his feet slipped on the mat, until his blood buzzed and hummed and sweat stung his eyes. Until his breath billowed from his lungs and his muscles quivered with fatigue. Then he hopped in place, switching stances, and began again.

"Fix!"

Felix ignored the voice. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to think. His brain had finally gone numb under the repetitious exercise. Maybe soon he could sleep.

"Felix!"

Another hand latched onto his shoulder.

What was with all the damned hands? Why did everyone want to touch him all of a sudden? Felix whirled into his uninvited guest, right fist cocked and ready to strike. He didn't care who it was.

Elias ducked the strike and followed up with a punch, catching him right in the sweet spot below the ribs. Grunting, Felix attempted to repay his foe with a reverse elbow. Elias ducked again.

"What the fuck?"

"You started it," Felix panted, preparing to strike again.

"Holy hell."

Elias caught him in a bear hug, front on. Even his fear of confinement did not lend Felix the strength to fight the hold; he'd worked himself weary. Still, he struggled until Elias picked him up and tossed him toward the bed. He hit the side and crumpled to the floor. He rolled, preparing to stand and fight again, but Elias was faster. A knee pinned his arm and an elbow caught him under the chin.

"Stay the fuck down."

The anger that had sustained him through his workout leaving him, Felix relaxed.

"If I let go, are you going to go rabid again?"

"No," Felix answered, his tone sullen.

Elias let him go and Felix rolled onto his side and sat up. He leaned back against the side of the bed and rubbed his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Elias dug in his pocket and pulled out Felix's wrist comm. Felix blinked at it, only vaguely remembering he had slipped it from his wrist with his glove. "Oh." Closing his eyes, he let his head tip forward.

"I've been trying to contact you for about half an hour."

Felix waved at the comm unit mounted on the wall of his quarters.

"You didn't hear that, either. What's up with you?"

I think I broke my heart without even trying. Again.

Pulling his knees up, Felix attempted to curl himself into a ball. Elias stopped him, his hand tugging at Felix's shoulder before he could fully tuck.

"Fix." His voice had gentled. "What happened?" Felix shook his head, but Elias figured it out anyway. "Oh, man, you slept with him, didn't you?"

"No, I fucked him." It had been sex, just sex.

Elias rubbed the shoulder he had a hold of. "You stupid shit."

"Thanks for the understanding."

"I get it, all right? But still?—"

"I know, it was stupid."

"Am I going to have to kick Loop off the ship like that pirate you picked up in Coolus?"

"That was three years ago and your dad did the kicking."

"Mmm-hmm. You grow a brain between then and now?"

Felix answered with a grunt.

Elias let go of his shoulder and settled beside him. He observed a manly silence for a while, which Felix appreciated.

Felix spent the quiet minutes comparing the color of their skin, his pale arm next to Elias's darker one, and trying not to contemplate his mistakes in life. Then he gave in to impulse and let his head flop onto his friend's shoulder.

"Wanna talk about it?" Elias asked.

"Nope."

"Smells like sex in here."

Felix closed his eyes. "I know."

It wasn't until an hour or so after he'd left Flick's cabin that Zed realized his mistake. He'd had sex with Flick. That, on its own, wasn't a mistake, despite the awkwardness afterward and the weird pain in his chest he was trying to ignore—and the not-so-weird pain in his ass that acted as a reminder every time he moved. However, having sex with Flick when his inoculation against infections had expired so long before he couldn't remember when…

Yeah, that was a problem.

Not that he didn't trust Flick. He did. Mostly.

Fuck .

Nine years ago, he would've proclaimed his trust for his friend without a thought. But a lot more than time lived between them, now. There were scars, so many fucking scars—metaphorical and literal. The memory of seeing the marks etched across Flick's skin made Zed's gut tighten like it did right before he killed something. The memory of how his friend had pulled away hurt even more.

Doesn't matter. If Flick hadn't done it, Zed would have. Besides, they had a mission. They needed to focus on finding Emma instead of being distracted by attraction that could go nowhere.

He paused outside the med bay, shoving those thoughts down deep. The last thing he needed was to give Nessa more questions to ask—she was already going to ask plenty, probably. He tapped on the door and waited for her shout before he entered.

"Hey, Loop," she said over her shoulder, then turned back to the counter to examine the holo of something microscopic and nasty-looking. "Just checking my cultures. What can I help you with?"

Zed shoved his hands in his pants pockets. His shoulders canted forward, stretching the fabric of his gray shirt—he wouldn't be wearing black again anytime soon. He opened his mouth to state why he was here and what was needed…then closed it without uttering a word, which was just fucking ridiculous. He wasn't sixteen. He could ask a doctor about the sex shot.

As the silence stretched, Nessa glanced over her shoulder again, arching an auburn brow. "Uh-oh." She turned and leaned against the counter. "Okay, come on. Spill."

A smile flashed across Zed's mouth, there and gone in the space of a breath. He liked Ness. He liked her a lot. The thought of telling her he'd just fucked Flick without protection…

"My sex shot is out of date," he blurted.

Nessa's other brow rose to match the first and she smiled slowly. "Okay. No problem, I can hook you up." Stepping to his side, she clapped one hand to his shoulder. "It's good to plan ahead."

"Uh…"

Her smile faded. "You are planning ahead, right?"

"I, uh…I kind of forgot."

"And you're how old? Thirty?"

"Thirty-one."

"Freaking old enough to know better, then." She shoved her hand against his upper arm and he rocked sideways. "So you and Fixer…"

"Yeah."

"You're lucky, you know that? Everyone on the Chaos is clean, I make sure of that. Apparently I should've scheduled your checkup as soon as you came on board." She waved at the examination table. "Sit. Sexual history?"

Zed hitched his butt onto the table and tried not to wince. "Nothing recent. Other than Flick. Fixer."

"Recent meaning what? Six months, two months, three weeks, five days?" Nessa bustled around the med bay, collecting the tools and serum she needed.

He held off answering as long as he could, buying time while she was busy putting all the items she needed on a little tray. He knew his dry spell was nothing to be ashamed of, but thinking of the reasons for it made him feel just a little less human.

"Three years."

Nessa paused in the process of picking up the tray. "Huh. That'd explain why your shot lapsed."

"Yeah."

"And you're sure you didn't ‘forget' any other times?"

"I'm sure," he growled.

"Hey, your words."

Zed sighed. "I know. I'm not in the habit of forgetting, believe me. It's just…Flick…"

"You love him."

"No. I did, once. But the galaxy went sideways before we could really figure shit out between us and…he's different than he was."

"He'd say the same about you, I think."

Zed didn't try to deny it. "What happened to him?"

Nessa made a tsking sound as she lifted the sleeve of his SFT and swept the disinfectant wand over his skin. "Not my story to tell. But you seem like a smart guy. ‘Forgetting' aside."

Zed nodded, letting his head droop forward. He'd been trying like hell not to think of Flick's lost time. He'd already spent a fucking year thinking about it, a year he purposely fought to not remember well. Being captured by the enemy had been a very real fear among the men and women fighting toe-to-toe with the stin. Rumors had flowed through the ranks about what happened to troops who went missing, and Zed had tried not to listen to them. He didn't want to know how the stin treated captured humans like slaves, of all sorts; he didn't want to know how the stin gloated over their prisoners, as if they were trophies of war; and he especially didn't want to know how they tortured them, for no reason other than to hear them scream. But that was what the rumors said, and as far as Zed knew, they were true. He had no reason to believe they weren't.

And now Flick was here, alive, and bearing all the marks of those rumors, and…

God, it hurt to know he couldn't do anything. The past couldn't be changed, but even now, in the present, there was nothing he could do for Flick.

He sucked in a ragged breath and forced his emotions aside, focusing instead on Nessa's actions. She pressed the syringe to the muscle of his upper arm and the sound of the serum being released filled the med bay. Zed barely flinched. A few seconds passed before she ensured the shot had fully dispersed. She swept the wand over the injection site again.

"Done. You're good for a year."

"Thanks, Doc."

One corner of her lip twitched at the address. He hopped down from the table and rotated his arm, which did nothing to assuage the ache settling in. Didn't matter what got injected into muscle, it always hurt for a bit.

"Want a lollipop?"

"I think I'll survive."

"Loop…" Nessa paused. "Think the galaxy'll stay steady for you guys this time?"

Zed's smile dimmed as that pain in his chest pulsed. "Not a chance."