Chapter 1

ONE

Hemera Station, 2260

F elix could have waited at the hostel. Done the cool thing and cornered a table in the bar downstairs, lined up some empty shot glasses and pretended to be simultaneously drinking, flirting and solving complex equations on his wallet. Or he could have left a key to his room at the desk with a note. Waited sprawled across the bed in a state of partial undress, feigning sleep. Nah, he'd have gone nuts alone in the dark or taken himself in hand, and neither would have been the picture he wanted to present when a certain someone opened the door.

Instead, he researched (hacked) the passenger manifests from several incoming transports, assigned a gate to the last one, jumping it to the head of the queue, and crossed the docking hub of Hemera Station at a leisurely stroll. No arriving harried and sweaty for him, and no hanging out in space for Zander Anatolius while the incompetent boobs piloting his shuttle stared at the pretty lights and tried to remember their training.

But the wait, short as it promised to be, might kill him.

It'd been four years since he'd last seen Zed—since he'd stood on a rooftop and declared his heart. Heat stung Felix's cheeks at the memory. He'd embarrassed himself and probably Zed…but he'd also won a single night with the man he loved. A handful of hours filled with the wordless promises he'd promised not to make. Kisses filled with the taste of Zed; his skin, his mouth, his sweat. The essence of him.

He'd also promised to forget. He never had.

Scrubbing his hands against the worn patches of smart fiber along the front of his pants, Felix paced up and down the dock lounge. He arrived at a row of molded plastic seats, each stuck to a long, metal beam. The garish pink curve of each seat looked something like an exotic flower, the whole construction some sort of alien vine. His bum caressed one of the seats for ten seconds before Felix leapt up to pace the length of the vine again. Then he strolled to the window in defiance of the old adage regarding watched things never doing whatever the fuck they were supposed to do.

To his left, Felix could just see the faint outline of the corona surrounding the distant gate. The glint of light to his right was reflected sunlight. The darkness of space blanketed everything else, but it wasn't a frightening sort of darkness. Not small or oppressive. Myriad lights circled the station, bright against the thousand thousand pinprick stars strung behind.

Heart drumming a frantic but familiar rhythm, he scanned the lights, looking for Zed's transport. "Where are you?"

It'd taken six months for him to answer Zed's frequent ripmails with something more than: I'm fine. Very busy . Then he'd shared the fact he'd made a friend in specialist training, a close friend, and let Zed draw his own conclusions. Felix hadn't wanted to say he'd moved on, but he had. Or he'd tried to, even though he tasted ash every time he thought about the fact Zed also had a close friend. A girlfriend. It wasn't until each of them had walked away from those relationships that their own friendship had started to come back together, via ripmail and the occasional jazer—on Zed's credit, of course. Long, rambling conversations that sometimes approached nights at the Academy when they'd lain side by side in a bunk, or up on the roof, and talked about nothing. When they'd simply spent time together.

They'd rebuilt the stack of bricks forming their friendship and these five days together on Hemera Station were to be the cement. So maybe he should stop fretting and head back to the hostel. Line up those shot glasses.

A tremor pushed through the floor beneath Felix's boots. Looking up, he saw the familiar Allied Earth Forces logo as Zed's transport nudged the docking hub and the clamps engaged. Felix scrubbed his hands over his thighs again and took a deep breath. No amount of oxygen could calm the butterflies performing zero-g maneuvers in his stomach. Or dry the sweat at the back of his neck, down the column of his spine, at the back of his knees and, for the love of all those useless gods, on his palms.

This was it! Zed was here. Felix felt his mouth curving into a big, stupid grin. He wrestled his features back into a soldierly countenance right away, but knew that the minute Zed stepped through the 'lock, he'd be grinning like a boy again. He strolled over to the hatch and tried not to twitch in place.

If Zed ever acquired a position in which he trained recruits or new officers, he was going to be sure to tell them two things. One, be smart about your choice of lovers. Everyone screwed around, that was just a given, but only stupid men and women got caught. And two, concussions really, really sucked.

His fingers found the scar at the back of his head, a gesture he found himself making more and more frequently, and one he was trying to not turn into a habit. He redirected his fingers to his shorn hair—he'd shaved it rather than sport a bald patch among the rest. After a couple of months, it wasn't quite a buzz cut anymore, but still a lot shorter than he used to wear it at the Academy.

Would Flick like it?

Zed's fingers found his scar again and he grumbled, then thrust his hand down to his side to tap on the seat's armrest. Whether or not Flick liked his hair should be a moot point. They were friends. Best friends, despite not seeing each other for years. They'd kept in touch, with ripmails that had ebbed and flowed in frequency. More flowing in recent years as they put space between them and…that night.

That topic was there, always there, but never verbalized. What could they say? They were both adults with promising careers; they couldn't just derail that the night they graduated from the Academy. They'd done the only thing they could do: walk away and move on.

He was thinking too much again, and a vague hint of a headache brewed at his temples. Nothing significant, just a reminder of why he was stationed at Central and had been for the past couple of months. The lingering effects of a concussion meant he wasn't on Outrock Colony, on the edge of human space, for the last few months of his posting, and that meant taking leave and connecting with family—or friends—was an actual possibility. So he couldn't be too upset. Though next time, he'd try to arrange the downtime without the annoyance of an injury that was taking way too long to heal.

Finally the ship docked and Zed let the press of bodies eager to escape carry him along. As he approached the gate, he had a brief flash of panic that he wouldn't recognize Flick. Then he spotted familiar blond curls and a wide, welcoming smile and all of the worries melted away.

Zed grinned, his mouth stretching so wide it hurt. God, Flick looked good. Older (duh) and…damn, there was that bunch and lurch in his gut, the one he'd once ignored whenever he looked at his best friend. No more. Flick was hot, really hot, and Zed let himself appreciate that fact as he walked toward him.

He threw out his arms and engulfed Flick in a hug, squeezing hard. He opened his mouth to say something, but his tongue got tangled with everything he wanted to say. I missed you, you look fantastic, I'm so happy to see you, I missed you, hugging you feels so good, how could I have walked away?

Swallowing, he tried again. "Hi, you," he said, his voice rough.

"Hey," Flick said back, his voice muffled against Zed's chest. He sounded so casual, so nonchalant, as though this wasn't the first time they'd seen each other in forever. Had Zed miscalculated what this meeting would mean? Was this really just two old friends reuniting for a few days of fun to recapture their childhood, or?—

Then he felt them. The trembles.

They quivered through Flick's body, small, slight, but there. He suddenly wanted to hold Flick tighter, closer, and make sure that he knew that no matter the distance between them, Zed would always be there for him.

Instead, when Flick tugged, Zed let him draw back.

"Should I be looking out for an angry farm wife?" Flick quipped.

Retreat. Regroup. Zed recognized that urge. Reluctantly, Zed pulled back from Flick, just enough so they weren't touching anymore, and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "Not unless you decided you liked women, got married, and started a farm, all without telling me." Zed grinned, then turned his head to the side to display the still-angry scar. "Check it out."

"Damn, Zed. She could have cracked your skull."

"Yep." He looked back at Flick, his mouth twisting into a self-deprecating smile. "My first in-service scar, and it's from a bloody shovel. Christ."

He shook his head, then, still smiling, gestured for Flick to walk with him.

Felix scrubbed the back of his neck. "So, um, where did you book? I'm at the hostel."

"Oh. I, uh…didn't." He held Flick's gaze for a moment, then looked away. "I knew you were going to be here before me and I…well, I thought…I'd, uh, play it by ear." He looked at Flick again. His cheeks felt hot enough that they were probably glowing red. Dammit. He waved a hand and shook his head. "Regardless, you're not staying at a hostel on an Anatolius station when you're vacationing with an Anatolius. I'm sure they'll find a couple of rooms for us at the Olympus. Or, uh…" Fuck, Zander, just say it. "One room."

They didn't have to do anything. They could just talk all night. Fuck, he could even get a room with two beds. But none of that made it past Zed's dry throat and uncooperative tongue.

Flick stared at him and Zed thought for a moment that he'd fucked up. Again. Then, "One room would be good." A blush swept across Flick's cheeks, followed by a chuckle—which he quickly stifled. "Man, we are…ridiculous. I feel like I'm fourteen."

And just like that, they were kids again, best friends, without the elephant in the room looming over their shoulders. Not everything had to be decided now. Zed slung his arm across Flick's shoulders and directed him toward the Olympus. "Want me to see if they've got something with two twin beds so we can pretend we're back in the dorms?"

Flick's blush deepened, but he said nothing, just shook his head, and Zed let it go. Not everything had to be decided now, he reminded himself. But soon, they'd have to figure shit out.