Chapter Five

The crunch of Theo’s slightly stale protein bar echoed loudly in the quiet of the cockpit. He wondered just how long it had been in Jun’s pocket before he’d retrieved it to fling at Theo’s head with grunted instructions to eat.

Judging by the taste, at least three months.

Jun peered down at the flight projections as he perched on the edge of the pilot’s seat with the rigid posture Theo was coming to expect from him. He made occasional disgruntled noises, muttering to himself in three languages thus far by Theo’s count.

None of it had been complimentary to either Theo or the ship.

Theo struggled to swallow his last dry mouthful of crumbling protein mix, loath to speak with his mouth full. He was just beginning to wish for a cup of tea when Jun held out a dented metal canteen, pushing it into Theo’s chest without turning away from his projections.

Theo opened it with a cautious sniff but was unable to discern any aroma. Mouth still as dry as the sands of Tunis Prime, he threw back the bottle with a shrug.

It was water, flavored only with the slight metallic tang of a magnetic filter. He gulped greedily, then passed it back to Jun, who rectified the misthreaded cap and stashed it beneath the dash.

He went back to the flight screen while Theo explored all the different ways he could drape himself across the copilot’s seat, particularly enjoying the configuration where he let his head dangle from the seat while he hooked his knees over the backrest, ankles crossed for security.

Jun leaned back in his chair with a low sound, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

Theo watched him, amazed to find that he was just as handsome when viewed upside-down. Although the deep shadows of exhaustion were perhaps even more pronounced at this angle.

“Have you slept? At all? I got a refreshing eight hours. I know I inspire confidence in my capabilities, but surely you did not expect me to engineer my escape whilst unconscious?”

Jun’s habitual scowl had twitched into a grimace at the first sound of Theo’s voice. Now, his head lolled back against his chair, his posture slumping into disarray. He took in Theo’s unorthodox position without comment, although his expression lightened incrementally in a way that wouldn’t have been noticeable on anyone else but, on him, seemed to indicate amusement. Theo considered that a win.

He swung himself up to sit cross-legged in the chair. Jun’s eyes widened slightly as he removed his legs from the backrest in a shameless display of flexibility. Theo knew how to play to his strengths.

He tapped his fingers on his knees, tone tilting up into disbelief. “You’re just not going to sleep? For the rest of the journey? Admittedly, I have no idea where we are going, but it is giving every appearance of taking days.”

Jun lifted heavy-lidded eyes to stare silently at Theo from beneath thick black lashes. He shook his head once to each side and rested his hands upon the arms of his chair.

Theo cocked his head, nestling his chin into the palm of his hand as he balanced his elbow on his own armrest. “Well, that doesn’t seem like a very good plan. It isn’t terribly sustainable, is it? Never going to sleep? Do you know, I read once about a man who was so determined to complete his life’s work that he stayed awake for days and days until his body finally revolted and dropped him dead right there on the spot. I’m not entirely certain whether he had finished his work before his untimely demise, but he certainly would have if he’d just had the good sense to take a nap now and again.”

Jun shut his eyes for a moment, shoved the palm of each hand into his temples, and pressed as though he might squeeze the sound of Theo’s voice from his brain.

“You are unbelievable,” he said, hands still pressing into his skull.

His voice came out as tired as he looked, raspy with sleep and bringing to mind all kinds of delicious imagery of rumpled sheets and pillow talk. Admittedly, even Theo had a difficult time imagining pillow talk with Jun. He seemed more a man of action than words. Theo had absolutely no difficulty imagining Jun in action…

But, at those words, Theo sat up straighter in affront, prepared to defend his research abilities. “No, I’m fairly certain I read that from a reputable source, actually.”

Jun’s eyes opened to pin him to his chair, hands falling carelessly into his lap. Theo struggled not to follow them with his gaze. It was a near miss. “No. You. You are unbelievable. Like, as a person. How are you a real person?”

Theo would have been offended if not for the edge of hysteria flavoring Jun’s voice. He leaned closer in concern. “I think you may be growing delirious in your exhaustion. I’ve never heard you talk so much of your own volition.”

Jun laughed low and hard and long enough that Theo’s concern deepened exponentially.

Theo risked placing a hand on the closest of Jun’s abandoned armrests, edging into the space between them. “What is so very amusing?”

Jun melted back into his chair; his shoulders dropped heavily as his feet slid out along the floor. “You. You think I talk too much.”

Theo nodded and sat back in his own chair as he considered his options. A moment later, he launched into a recitation of his least favorite works of poetry in the low, droning tone he usually reserved for particularly irritating undergraduate lectures.

Jun’s brow furrowed in confused irritation. He rubbed his eyes, then left them closed as his hand fell back into his lap.

Theo continued to drone until the lines on Jun’s face smoothed miraculously away, underscored by soft snoring.

Thankful for his hours of practice sending undergrads to sleep at their desks, Theo stood and began to examine Jun’s holster.

*

It really was a shame how stunningly beautiful Captain Jun Park’s face was in repose, and how terrifyingly furious it was in wakefulness.

“Give it to me. Now.”

Theo pursed his lips in mock contemplation as he trained the gun on Jun’s wide chest. He took a step back into the main cabin beneath the force of Jun’s rage from his seat in the cockpit. “Hmm, no. I think I’d rather not. I have loads of questions I’d like answers to, first.”

Jun’s glare, sharp and calculating, measured the distance across the floor between them. He pushed to stand, all traces of exhaustion gone even though he had only slept for an hour.

Theo clicked the wheel on the side of the gun until it made a low buzzing sound that vibrated in the bones of his hand.

Jun went very still very quickly, focus trained on Theo’s restless fingers hovering over the trigger.

“Yes. Now you’re going to answer my questions, Captain Jun Park. I did warn you that I had unexpected depths.”

Jun swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing down his throat as his attention never faltered from the gun.

Theo set his jaw with determination, widening his stance as he held the gun with both hands. “What is your favorite color? No, food. No, animal. Actually, I’d like to know all three, please.”

Jun’s focus finally left the gun, flying to Theo’s face with an expression that could only be described as flabbergasted. “Are you serious?”

Theo attempted the stern expression his brother liked to use while lecturing him on the importance of proper desk organization. “I do appear to be the man with the gun, yes. All three, and be quick about it.”

Jun’s face really was incredibly handsome without his habitual scowl in place. He looked confused and tired and shockingly young. His expression lines disappeared into smooth bronze skin stretched tight across the most beautiful bone structure Theo had ever seen.

His mouth moved silently before he spit out a rapid-fire answer. “Black. Bibimbap. I don’t like animals.”

Theo heaved a disappointed sigh, clucked his tongue as he held the gun steady. “Black is hardly a color. I suspect that’s a decoy answer to conceal your true love of some color you find undignified for whatever reason. Bibimbap is an excellent choice. Pick an animal anyway.”

“Cat,” Jun said, exactly as though a cat had once murdered his entire family.

Theo dropped the stern expression like an unwanted rag, his face shining with delight. “My favorites are blue, profiteroles, and hedgehogs. See, isn’t this nice? We’re getting to know each other! Things really are much better when I have the gun. We ought to do this more often.”

Jun tracked Theo’s hand as he gestured between them with the barrel. He pointed it back at Jun, fingertips tapping the stock as he considered his next question. “Butter or jam? On your toast.”

Some of the tension in the hard line of Jun’s shoulders began to dissolve. He took a small step closer to Theo, voice quiet. “Butter.”

Theo hummed, unsurprised. Jun had that buttered-toast look about him. “I like both, with some sugar sprinkled on top for crunch. Ari thinks that’s disgusting, but he never could appreciate my genius in the kitchen.”

Jun’s face tightened at Ari’s name. He took another step toward Theo, this one slightly larger than the first.

Adjusting his grip on the gun, Theo resisted the urge to back away. Even without the gun, Jun’s shoulder holster lent him an air of danger that pressed in on Theo like an electric charge in the room. Or perhaps that was just Jun himself, bringing the promise of a storm wherever he went.

Theo had always enjoyed stormy weather.

He scanned Jun’s face and forced himself not to linger on those full lips as Jun licked them nervously. They really were quite distracting.

Now, pointing the gun at him as if it were a stick of chalk and he was calling upon a student in his lecture hall, Theo asked, “How old are you?”

Jun’s nose scrunched with irritation in a manner that Theo didn’t hesitate to label adorable. “What does it matter?”

His arms grew tired from holding out the gun, and Theo shifted with discomfort. Jun gave no sign of answering, so Theo gave his answer first in encouragement. “I’m nearly twenty-four. My brother and I completed our degrees in acceleration. I’ve been reliably informed that we’re remarkably intelligent, though I have provided a staggering amount of evidence to the contrary.”

Jun’s hands twitched at his side as he stepped closer, boots gliding silently across the metal floor. “Twenty-eight.” He started to lift his arm from his side, feet planted, knees bending.

With a sharp inhale, Theo sensed an electric storm approaching, building across his skin until he buzzed with it. “Alright, fine. I suppose I should ask more relevant questions as well. Why did you take me? What kind of help do you need from me?”

Jun paused, then slid one leg in front of him, still bent slightly at the knee. He was definitely measuring the distance between them, adjusting his stance. His voice dropped even lower, just above a mumble. “I need you to translate something.”

A smile lit up Theo’s face, transfixing Jun in the bright burst of happiness. “I would be delighted! I adore a good translation project. But, why didn’t you just bring it with you? I likely could have translated it there at my desk. You could even have enjoyed waving your gun about. I’m beginning to see why you like it so.” Theo brandished the weapon in demonstration, bringing the muzzle near his own head.

Jun’s shoulders jerked as he followed the movement. “I couldn’t risk bringing it across the Verge,” he said. “It’s too important.”

The low buzz of the charge made Theo’s fingers ache, so he switched hands on the trigger. Jun jolted at the motion and pressed his lips into a tight line. “Intriguing indeed,” Theo said. “Now, what else did I want to know? I think it’s fairly obvious you aren’t a morning person. Oh! Do you have any hidden talents? Art, music”—he scanned down Jun’s well-defined muscular body thoughtfully—“dancing?”

Jun’s scowl developed an edge of petulance that Theo struggled not to find charming. He resembled nothing so much as a cranky little boy being asked to sit for tea. Who could also snap a man in half if he wanted to.

Theo was definitely charmed.

“No. And if you’re not going to stop asking stupid questions, I’d honestly rather you shoot me.”

Theo tried to school his features into something half as serious as Jun’s solemn face, reining in his wild curiosity to focus on gaining pertinent information. “Where are you taking me?”

It seemed Jun would refuse to answer, but he appeared more comfortable with questions regarding Theo’s abduction than his own personal details. He answered quickly and quietly, “To my ship.” His mouth barely moved as he tracked every minute movement of the gun and continued to inch forward.

Theo’s arm drooped, his shoulders sagging with befuddlement. “But we’re already aboard your ship.”

“This isn’t my ship; this is just the dinghy.” Jun moved dangerously close, hands out and ready at his sides.

Theo scooted backward until he bumped up against the bulkhead, gun raised but not in the least ready. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term.”

Jun didn’t slow his approach, stalking Theo with the hard eyes of a single-minded predator. Theo felt a slight tinge of concern for his own mental state that he found it so devastatingly attractive. His survival instincts really were appalling.

Jun’s voice was clipped with the sharp edge to his accent that had originally fascinated Theo. He wanted to analyze every soft phoneme and clipped consonant until he could pin it down.

Until he could pin Jun down.

“It’s a single-person craft for making short trips planetside,” Jun said.

The space between Jun’s chest and Theo’s gun was closing rapidly.

“Oh.” Theo’s voice was small as his hands began to shake.

Only a few feet between them now. Jun bit his lip as he stared at the gun, every muscle tense and his words almost too low to hear, dropping into a growl. “That, and it’s dingy as fuck.”

Theo jumped, knocking his head against the wall as Jun snatched the gun away and continued to move closer until he pressed Theo into the bulkhead with the entire length of his body.

His eyes held Theo’s for an endless moment, his breathing so harsh that his chest brushed against Theo’s lapels on every exhalation. Theo refused to turn away despite his trembling, fear and arousal sending his body into a tailspin of hormones until he was drunk on them. Jun’s gaze fell to Theo’s quivering lips just before he stepped back with a dissatisfied grunt.

“I shouldn’t have released you from the rusted tape.”