Chapter Two

“Get in.”

Theo cast a dubious eye on the heavily dented ship and attempted to back up a step until the hard edge of a gun prodding at his kidneys urged him forward.

“Hardly seems spaceworthy,” he sniffed as he gingerly climbed the rust-bitten ramp into the ramshackle craft.

The stranger followed him closely. Once on board, he raised the ramp with a horrendous howl of abused hinges. A large metal door screamed shut behind them, closing them in.

The silence that immediately followed landed like a weight on Theo’s chest. He strived to fill it while the stranger latched the door.

“So, effectively, I’m your prisoner.”

His captor made no response as he flung his coat onto a scratched-up emergency seat bolted to the side, revealing a gray knit shirt straining to contain his shoulders beneath the black leather straps of his holster.

More tattoos decorated every inch of skin exposed, the meandering lines on his neck disappearing beneath the low collar of his shirt. Theo contemplated the possibility of following those lines to find out where they might go.

With his tongue, preferably.

The man shoved past Theo to enter the open door of the cockpit and fiddle with the flight controls.

Theo leaned against the wall in what he hoped was a fetching pose, allowing the lace at his cuff to fall away from his wrist in a move that had twice proven effective in turning a man’s head. “Shouldn’t you have tied me up or something by now? What if I overpower you and make a daring escape?”

This time, he received a response in the form of a skeptically raised eyebrow and what Theo personally considered to be an offensive lack of concern.

“I could do it. I assure you I have unexpected depths.”

He took the silent flex of rippling back muscles as reply.

“Am I technically your prisoner if there is no prison? ‘Captive’ would be a more accurate descriptor, one would think.”

The man inclined his head toward the battered copilot seat. “Strap in.”

He waited until Theo had clumsily buckled the harness before reaching over to yank on the straps to tighten them. Theo’s heart went into double time as he manipulated the straps over his hips with a firm hand.

Theo had always been partial to a firm hand.

Never before had he encountered one that was so charmingly decorated. Theo had also always been partial to calligraphy.

His captor strapped into his own seat and initiated takeoff. The ship lifted from the dock, leaned distinctly sideways, then righted itself with a wobble and fell directly back onto the dock in a worrisome shriek of metal.

A colorful and culturally diverse selection of cursing filled the cockpit as the stranger banged his fist against the dash. He then lifted the ship from the dock again, this time without the sideways lean.

There was still a significant wobble though.

Muttered cursing underscored the creaking, rattling symphony of their wobbling ascent into the darkness of space.

Theo used what he liked to consider covert techniques to observe his captor, who focused on controlling the ship with knuckles white beneath his tattoos.

The hexagonal designs on his wrists wrapped around strong forearms, also accented by the odd botanical element, which jarred against the severe geometric patterns.

One of the botanical elements draped down across the back of his Honor hand; its lush greenery, caged by wandering geometric lines, spilled from under the pushed-back cuff of his thermal knit shirt. More calligraphy kissed the nape of his neck, framed by the parallel lines snaking down below his collar.

Theo leaned closer to try to interpret the letters and earned a quelling glance. The man’s lips tightened into a line of disapproval. Lips that were molded into smooth, lush curves. Theo pondered how they might feel caught delicately between his teeth.

Or indelicately, for that matter.

The stranger relaxed his grip on the controls as he peered at the projections across his screen, then let go to sit back in his chair.

Theo released his harness to tilt forward, wrists draped over his crossed knees. “What should I call you?”

The stranger kept his attention on the view screen. “My name is unimportant.”

Fiendish delight curled through Theo as he lifted his hands to fuss with his cuff in a flourish. “Unimportant, is it? That’s a strange name. Maybe not where you come from, but certainly where I live. Cultural naming practices are absolutely fascinating, don’t you agree? It is a pleasure to meet you, Unimportant!”

The stranger slowly turned to Theo, his face stricken in a very familiar “did he just” grimace. He shook his head, brows scrunching at Theo before turning away. “No. My name is not relevant. You don’t need to know it.”

Theo flung his arms in the air, fingers spread as irritation won out. “Well, I can’t just call you ‘stranger’ forever!”

The stranger considered him with growing concern, as though he was just now considering the possibility that Theo may be slightly unbalanced.

It usually didn’t take people quite this long.

“You have never called me ‘stranger.’”

Theo churned his hands through the air emphatically. “In my head, obviously! I need something to refer to you by, if only in my thoughts!”

The stranger’s expression grew less concerned and more contemplative. “You have been thinking about me.”

The problem was that when Theo blushed, it was both hideously and violently as if someone had dumped a bucket of red paint over his head and let it run down his body. He fidgeted in his seat, tucking his elbows in tightly. “Well, there isn’t really anyone else here, is there? Of course I have been thinking about you! In a strictly socially acceptable, non-creepy way.”

The stranger said nothing, but the way his chest rose and fell with a deep, extended breath seemed judgmental to Theo.

“I’m sorry,” Theo said, “that sounded creepy. Not that I should worry about what you think of me, considering you’re my abductor. If anyone is creepy here, it is clearly you.”

“Park.”

Theo took a deep breath of his own, thankful for the interruption as he could feel himself building up to an absolute mountain of babble. “Pardon?”

The stranger turned to the view screen, but Theo could tell he was keeping him in his peripheral. “My name. Captain Jun Park.”

Straightening in his seat excitedly, Theo extended his hand once more. “Absolutely smashing to meet you, Jun! You may call me—”

Jun winced at Theo’s use of his name, his body language already suffused with regret. He frowned as he interrupted Theo’s introduction. “I know your name.”

Theo used his extended hand to toss his hair back over his shoulder, then swirled one lock around his index finger. “Well, yes, you did come searching for Dr. Campbell, but my given name is—”

“Theophrastus.”

Theo’s ears perked up at the accurate, if accented, pronunciation. He tilted forward in his seat, perched at full attention. “However did you know that?”

Jun twitched his head in the direction of his coat, one shoulder lifting in a quarter of a shrug. “Your paper.”

Humming thoughtfully, Theo laced his fingers together over one knee as he swung his foot. “Of course. I had quite forgotten you were a fellow linguistics enthusiast. I only use my full name on academic documents. My friends call me Theo. Well, perhaps ‘friends’ is an overstatement. My associates and Ari call me Theo anyway.”

Theo firmly stomped down on the familiar prick of pain at the reminder that he had no one but his brother to call a friend. People didn’t tend to spend time with Theo on purpose, not for any length of it anyway.

No point in dwelling on such dreary matters. Every day a new opportunity. One never knew when a handsome stranger might carry one off into the sunset, after all. The fact that there had been no sunset and, instead, a depressing fog did nothing to dim Theo’s delight with the possibilities.

“I really must insist that you call me Theo rather than trying to muddle through Theophrastus.” Theo slanted a sly glance up through his eyelashes. “I’ve been told I’m quite a mouthful.”

Jun made an odd choking noise, face drifting out of his frown for a few stunned, glorious seconds.

Now, that was fascinating. Theo needed to see more of that.

Jun released the controls to run a hand through the longer strip of hair on the top of his head, gripping it by the roots as he turned a glare on Theo. “Do you ever stop talking?”

Theo considered this, head tilted to the side as his foot continued to swing. “Generally, no. Not unless my mouth is otherwise occupied.”

Jun’s gaze fell to his lips at that before darting away to the view screen.

A blush crept up Theo’s neck to settle warm against his cheeks as he scrambled to elaborate. “With food, I meant. Or something similarly innocuous. Although I suppose the same could be true of more inappropriate applications. In fact, there was one incident during my final year of undergraduate studies where a particular companion of mine made ingenious use of a—”

He cut off as he finally heard himself, snapping his mouth shut in the face of Jun’s naked fascination. The man observed him exactly as one would a carriage accident in progress, with a potent mixture of horror and rapt attention.

Theo cleared his throat, his fingers busy with picking imaginary dust off the knee of his trousers. “My apologies. I do tend to chatter when I am nervous. This is my first abduction, you see. Not that one tends to experience multiple abductions, in the general course of things. Though I suppose this is very much out of the general course of things. I’ve certainly never met someone like you before, and—”

Theo dropped wide eyes to the tattooed hand covering his mouth. Jun’s calloused palm rasped against the sensitive skin of his lips.

It was decidedly not unpleasant.

Jun’s quiet voice boomed in the silent cockpit, his face sharp with warning. “I will gag you if you will not. Cease. Speaking.”

Theo’s eyes attempted to go even wider but met their limit. Jun removed his hand with a fleeting glance at Theo's lips and curled it into a fist by his side as he settled back into his chair.

Theo sucked in a noisy breath, lips tilting up with shocked glee. “Will you really? Goodness, I’ve read some rather fascinating stories where that happens, to various effect. Some much more pleasant than others. Though I suppose this isn’t that kind of story.”

Theo got the distinct impression that if Jun had been a cat, he would have hissed.

A strobing light brought Theo’s attention to the dash, half again as big and twice as complicated as the one on his and Ari’s little ship.

A clear dome with an open padlock covered a large red button just left of center. Theo stood, moved toward it, and lifted the dome. “What does this button do? It’s ever so tantalizing, isn’t it, under the little cloche? Shall I press it?”

Jun leapt from his seat and wrapped his hands around both of Theo’s wrists. “No! Sit down. Touch nothing.”

Huffing, Theo blew his hair out of his face. “What a nonsensical request. I can hardly ‘touch nothing,’ can I? For instance, my boots are touching the floor as we speak. Were I to sit in the chair, my derrière would be touching the seat. And, just now—” He turned his hand to brush against the bony protuberance of Jun’s wrist. “—I am touching you.”

Jun let go of him as though burned, eyes narrowed to dark, angry slits. His voice dipped into a lower register, sending lovely shivers down Theo’s spine. “Sit down and shut up.”

Theo cocked his head to the side and lazily stretched his arm out to hit one of the buttons on the dash.