Chapter 4

FOUR

M urmurs roused Zed. Muddled and not quite lucid, he thought Species Four had managed to find words. Then he realized that he was hearing with his ears and not his brain—a differentiation he had never expected to make. The low tones floated around him for a few minutes, lulling him back into a light doze until he heard a sound he would know anywhere.

Flick's laugh.

He'd been hearing it more and more since they'd started therapy. Not the half-swallowed snicker that sounded more mean than joyful, but the unfettered bark of laughter Zed remembered from the Academy. It hadn't come out often then, either. Getting Flick to make that noise had become something of a pastime for him when they were kids.

Why was he laughing now?

With a groan, Zed pushed himself out of bed. He'd been in the situation of waking up after a sedative or some medical treatment often enough that he knew to take it easy. Sit up first, pause, breathe. Stand, wait for the room to stop swaying, breathe. He was a bit surprised Ness wasn't hovering at his bedside, but he supposed there had been readings or something that said he wasn't in imminent danger. But damn, he'd been right—his head hurt like a son of a bitch.

"And the time we pranked Sergeant Harris?"

"Hell yes, I remember that. I can't believe we got away with it."

Zed paused at the door leading to the sitting area of their guest quarters, curiosity and something else preventing him from moving fully into the other room. From this angle, he could see the back of Flick's head with all its unruly blond curls. Theo's face was in profile, but there was no missing how wide his smile stretched or how it made his expressive eyes sparkle.

Theo Paredes. Fucking Theo .

From the moment Theo and Flick had greeted each other in an informal fashion, Zed had known who he was looking at. He hadn't expected Flick to remain celibate after graduation—they'd never promised each other anything. They'd discovered what could have been a thing between them, given the time to nurture it—time they hadn't had—and then separated for years. Trying to base a life off of one night, even if they had years of friendship to add to it, just didn't compute.

So they'd gone their separate ways. Flick had found himself a boyfriend. Zed had found himself a girlfriend. And while Zed's relationship with Riley fizzled spectacularly after he'd said no to her proposal of marriage, apparently Flick was still good enough friends with Theo to share the occasional ripmail after nearly a decade of being apart.

And now they were shooting the shit while Zed—for all they knew—lay dying in the bedroom.

Okay, that was a little dramatic. Had to be Flick's influence.

Rationally, Zed knew that if he made a noise or drew attention to himself, Flick would be up off the couch and at his side before he had a chance to finish saying "Hello." But watching Flick's curls bob with his laughter as he and Theo shared a moment …

Well, it drove a lot of things home.

"So…Zed." Theo's eyebrows waggled.

"Yeah."

"That's him, the guy you mentioned every other sentence."

"Oh shut up, I wasn't that bad." Flick leaned back into the cushions.

"Bad enough. You were a champion moper." Theo cocked his head. "You look good, though. Settled."

Flick squirmed. "Not sure if I'd go that far."

"Things not good between you?"

"No, it's not that. I mean, yes and no. You always do this, get me to say more than I mean to say."

"It's a talent."

"It's a menace."

Zed leaned against the wall, keeping his movements slow and easy in case Theo glanced his way. He didn't want to interrupt this, even if his gut was churning at the idea he might hear something he wouldn't like.

Flick sighed. "Things are good. We're good. But this Guardian bullshit…"

"Tough to get your head around, huh?"

"He died, Theo, and I—" Flick's voice caught. Instantly Theo was on the move, out of his chair to sit beside Flick on the couch. Not too close, but…close.

Zed froze as Theo shifted sideways to face Flick and grabbed his hand. Surely Flick would pull away, jerk his fingers out of Theo's grasp. Instead, he just looked at his hand in Theo's.

"Something else you always used to do."

"Touch soothes," Theo said, shrugging.

"Yeah," Flick said after a moment. "Maybe."

He still didn't move away.

Zed's stomach wound tighter and his breathing sped up. Part of him—a small part—wondered if Flick would take Theo up on a different sort of comfort. A much larger part growled, loudly, that Flick loved him. Zed trusted him. There was nothing to worry about.

Nothing.

Except Theo was still holding Flick's hand.

"You still read palms?" Was Flick's voice breathy? Was Zed imagining it?

"Yeah. Sometimes." Theo shifted on the couch. Zed couldn't see what his hands were doing, but he imagined that he was looking at the palm of Flick's hand, the hand he still hadn't relinquished. "Why, want me to take a look at yours?"

There was no mistaking the affection on Theo's face. His expression all but glowed with it. He looked at Flick steadily, unwavering, his entire attention focused on him—like you'd look at someone who was your entire world. Someone you loved.

And Flick didn't move.

Zed turned away, no longer caring if he made any noise. There was still something between Flick and Theo, something that neither of them seemed ready to deny, and that hurt. Maybe it was nothing more than old love. Maybe he'd misread Flick's lack of movement.

He sure as hell hadn't misread that look on Theo's face, though.

Heart aching, Zed retreated to the head. He needed a shower—and to not think for a little bit.

The whisper of a hatch sliding closed tickled Felix's ear. Yanking his hand from Theo's grasp, he glanced over his shoulder, through the open bedroom door. He could see half of the bed, and unless Zed had tucked his legs up, it lay empty.

He turned back to Theo, who regarded him with that deeply compassionate gaze. Theo reclaimed his hand, the right one, and traced the line that slashed diagonally across his palm. Two scars interrupted the length, and the line diverged all on its own shortly after the second. He tapped Felix's palm at that point, at the break. "You'll be okay, Felix. Both of you."

Felix didn't feel okay. Weirdness had replaced the usual combination of anxiety and anger that thrummed through his veins. Heat prickled his cheeks and the back of his neck, and the blush was at odds with the warm spot in the middle of his palm.

Theo stood and took a quiet moment to straighten the creases in his neat, diplomatic pants. Felix levered himself up off the couch and gestured toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna go check?—"

"Yep. Anything he needs, you know where to find me." Theo patted the pocket where he kept his wallet. "Anytime."

"Thanks. And thanks for…" Felix gestured again, this time to a vague space between them.

Theo grinned. "It was good to catch up."

"Yeah, it was."

Theo left, and the slide of the main hatch seemed louder than the one to the bathroom. Felix pondered the difference for a moment, mentally weighing the construction and materials of both. Then, recognizing his thoughts for what they were—distraction—he pushed through the bedroom and palmed the door release for the bathroom. Steam billowed gently toward the open hatch before resuming a path toward the exhaust. Zed didn't look around.

Had Zed seen Theo holding his hand—and if so, what of it? It was a simple enough gesture. But seeing him and Theo together would have to be weird, right? Especially knowing he'd been Felix's first boyfriend—if you didn't count the one night he and Zed had spent together after graduation. A night of hot, sweaty and frantic fumbling followed by a string of promises and a heart nearly rent in two. But it wasn't as if Zed hadn't had any other deep and meaningful relationships. He'd had a few, with men and women. The past belonged to the past, didn't it?

Felix worked his glove off of his left hand. The twisted and malformed knuckles and fingers were a gift from the stin. They'd broken his hand in the work camp where he'd been incarcerated for three and a half years. Hell, they'd broken more than his hand. His body bore more scars than he could count. His soul too. But the gnarled appearance of his left hand would always be the most visible and painful reminder of his experience of the war.

Zed continued to shower as if he hadn't noticed someone else in a room barely big enough to swing an ashushk.

After dropping his clothes and glove into a messy pile, Felix straightened and crossed to the corner of the bathroom dedicated to the shower. He slid his hands around Zed from behind and leaned into his strong back, pushing his cheek into the flexing musculature over one shoulder blade. Warmth flowed from Zed's wet skin into his, trickling across his belly and down his legs, seeping inside him to ease the ache of anxiety.

Felix pressed his lips to the back of Zed's shoulder, kissing away moisture, soap and a faint tang of sweat. He tasted the line delineated by a trapezius. Bit down on the hard muscle. His hands gripped Zed's belly, fingers curled against more firm flesh.

Zed eased backward into his embrace, relaxing in small jerks as Felix sucked at the skin of his neck.

"I love you." He should ask after Zed's health, see if he needed something for the inevitable headache, but some instinct told him he needed to remind Zed of his love first. Make sure that one thing wasn't in question. Ever.

Felix followed his declaration with another nip, catching the lobe of Zed's ear between his teeth. He didn't wait for an answer, didn't care if he got one. He didn't doubt Zed's love. People who didn't care didn't get all huffy, ignoring kisses and…

Zed turned, his arms sliding around Felix. His mouth came down, catching Felix's in a needful kiss, tongue battering at his, claiming his, just as the kiss pushed deep inside him, making him Zed's. Always Zed's.

Their groins met and clashed, Zed already half-hard, Felix filling. He nudged his burgeoning erection into the crook of Zed's thigh. Reached around to grab his buttocks and pull him closer. Zed's lips coasted across his jaw, teeth catching the faint stubble he might have to depil in a day or two. In contrast, Zed's face was already rough. Felix rubbed his cheek along the bristly skin, moaned as Zed caught his earlobe and returned the bite. Fingers tweaked one of his nipples.

Felix's moan deepened. He pulled harder at Zed's ass, mashing their cocks together, not caring that the contact bent him sideways and pulled a gasp from Zed. He wanted to be inside his lover, where he belonged. Show his love, pour it into Zed.

Zed had other ideas.

Catching his shoulders, Zed turned him around and pushed him into the wall. Felix's fingers slid over the smooth alloy as he sought purchase. Teeth grabbed at his neck and shoulder, the swish of Zed's tongue between nearly lost under the competing sting of the bite and spray from the shower. The heat of Zed's cock pushed at the cleft of his ass. Felix fought the old panic. He wasn't being pinned, he stood in a loving embrace—warm and supple flesh at his back, familiar callused palms skimming down his flanks, fingers he'd never forget claiming a hip.

"This okay?" Zed's rough voice loosened the string of tension in Felix's spine.

"Yes." He arched his back, catching Zed's cock against his ass. "Yours."

An answering groan reverberated through Felix's skin. Felix defined it as mine . He'd always be Zed's, but nothing said that more clearly than inviting his lover inside him. If Zed needed this, Felix needed it more.

Felix gripped the wall and moaned as Zed kissed the back of his hips and buttocks. He spread his legs. A small weight settled into the middle of his back.

"Stay," Zed growled as he lifted his hand away, briefly, and leaned toward the vanity. After rooting around in his pack—yeah, Zed had a special pack just for his bathroom kit—he ducked back into the shower, palm pushing into the middle of Felix's back again.

A soft click and then cool oil slithered between his buttocks. Zed's fingers followed. Felix shuddered as he wavered between anxiety and frustration of the deepest sexual kind. Every caress of Zed's thick fingers sent ripples of desire across the back of his hips, through his gut and deep into his groin. His balls tightened and his cock ached as Zed stretched him, prepared him.

"Now, Zed. I'm ready."

"Maybe I'm not."

Oh, God. Zed wanted to tease him, maybe punish him for daring to have ever belonged to another, even if just for safekeeping. Or maybe his interpretation missed the mark. Zed could simply be taking his time at a pleasure he didn't experience all too often: Felix open before him, quivering at his every touch. Leaning into his fingers, gasping, moaning, begging.

"Fuck me, please."

Felix whimpered as Zed's fingers dropped away, and gasped as Zed grabbed his ass and spread his cheeks. One prod, a warning, then Zed was pushing inside him. Felix let the sensation wash through him, pull a deep groan from his gut and carry it up his throat. He hissed and howled softly, not in pain—though the intrusion stung. In a moment he'd forget that, though. In a moment…Oh, fuck. Full, so full.

Zed leaned into his back, his chin hooking over Felix's shoulder. Felix rubbed his cheek against Zed's again, turned so that he could press a sideways kiss to the corner of Zed's mouth. Every breath left him in a short pant. His skin twitched and shivered. Deep inside him, heat melted the burn, turning it into a pleasure so intense, he could only live it, be it.

"Ready?" Zed murmured.

"Ye-es."

Felix yelled at the sudden withdrawal, yelled again as Zed slid back home. He gripped the stupidly slick shower wall and held on, steadied by the hands at his hips. Zed picked up a rhythm, hips soon crashing into Felix's buttocks, the slap of wet skin, Felix's shouts, and Zed's deep, rumbling grunts eclipsing the sound of the still falling water.

Zed's rhythm faltered, then resumed. Felix reached for his cock. He'd barely touched himself when the telltale tingle spiraled up through his balls. Knowing the end was imminent, he gripped the base of his cock in an effort to hold off long enough for Zed to finish first. The angle had every thrust pushing past that point of lightning inside him. It would be torture after he came. For the love of all those useless gods, how could something that felt so good be such torment at the same time?

The slip started and Felix knew he was going—falling into the place where only sex could take him. Only this kind of sex, being taken, filled, over and over.

"Zed!"

Zed's rhythm missed another beat before racing into staccato. Then, with a shudder, he came, roaring over Felix's ear, mashing him into the wall, thrusting, near pummeling him—not that Felix cared. He'd slipped into senselessness, his own climax thundering through his bones.

Time disappeared. Light absconded with it. When both returned, Felix could hear nothing but the heavy breath of the man leaning into his back, feel nothing but the hot wash of air across his neck. Then came the sting of spray from the shower, temperature indeterminate.

"Fuck," he said.

Zed groaned.

They might have stayed like that until the water ran cold, which would take a fucking long time on a ship the size of the Jitendra . But Felix's ass was sore, and the curious pain on his shoulder might be a bite mark, and his knees ached and…Jesus, Joseph and Mary. If Zed fucked him like that every day, he'd lose the capacity for rational thought.

Hey, maybe that had been the point.

The shrill of an alarm pierced his postcoital haze. Zed stiffened behind him, and not in a sexy way. Felix pushed off the wall and fumbled at his wrist. His bracelet had started squawking too, which meant the alarm was being pushed through all channels. Behind him, Zed shut off the shower and commanded two towels to leap into his hands. Either that, or he Zoned through the motions, completing both tasks in the time it took Felix to bring up a display. Visual and audio spilled into the clammy air at the same time.

"Attention. The Jitendra is now under emergency protocol six. All personnel please report to your stations. All civilians and guests are directed to return to their quarters. Passes will be required for anyone not in their assigned section."

A competing message opened up in another holographic window and Elias's agitated face beamed into the bathroom. " What the hell is emergency protocol six? Have you been disabling safety protocols for everyone's protection again? "

Breath fluttering in his throat, Felix simply stared at the image of Elias. The last time he'd experienced emergency protocol six, the stin had blown a hole in the side of the McCandless , launching him into space and the worst four years of his life.

Emergency protocol six meant battle stations .

"General quarters." Or that. Zed leaned over Felix's shoulder. "Are Ness or Qek with you?"

"Yeah. Should we stay here or come meet you?"

"Hold on." Zed manipulated Felix's displays, pushing Elias off to the side. Rendered immobile by something he didn't want to call fear, Felix held his wrist aloft, making the holographic feed from his bracelet available. He didn't feel capable of much more, but knew he might need to be. Silently, he began his count, rolling the technique he used to combat anger into the mental preparation of a soldier.

"Holy fuck." Zed's quiet exclamation interrupted his count.

"What?" Elias asked from his shuffled display.

"It's Species Four. They're approaching their border."