Chapter Eight

“Do you have much confidence in the dinghy’s ability to cross the Verge?” Theo asked as he surveyed the busted dash with a healthy amount of skepticism. “I’ll admit, upon first viewing the vessel, I had my doubts of how spaceworthy it may be. Now that I have truly experienced the interior construction, however, I am entirely sure that it is not. Spaceworthy, that is. Something of a ramshackle death trap, more like. Probably best suited to completing the collection of a museum of mistakes in aeronautical engineering.”

Jun didn’t lift his head from his view screen as he entered the new coordinates, mouth set in a hard line of concentration. “I did it before.”

Theo hid a small smile at the curt response. He had expected to continue his one-sided conversation all the way to the barrier of the Verge. It was a pleasant surprise to be acknowledged. He tried to rein in his delight, aiming for casual instead of jumping at the first real interaction Jun had allowed since they entered the cockpit. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Jun huffed, sitting back in his chair as rapid-fire flight projections scrolled across his screen. He rubbed one hand over his head, his shoulders tense. The reflection from his screen emphasized the shadows clinging to the hollows of his face. “‘Confidence’ isn’t the right word. It’s going to work because I have to make it work.”

Theo swiveled his chair back and forth with his toes on the floor. He played idly with the excess strap of his harness, letting it run through his fingers until he reached the frayed end, looping it around his palm, then releasing it to start all over again. “Well, you certainly do not suffer from a lack of determination; I’ll grant you that. Perhaps you ought to add it to the lovely bit of calligraphy adorning your knuckles. Honor, Valor, and Determination. I say ‘determination’ because single-minded pigheadedness wouldn’t fit in any language I know of.”

Jun’s head whipped around, his eyes comically wide. The tattooed knuckles in question gripped his armrests as he pressed forward into his harness, and then he jerked to a stop as if he’d forgotten it was there. “You can read Hangul?”

Theo couldn’t determine whether to be insulted by Jun’s obvious surprise. He decided that, ultimately, if he were to take offense every time a man underestimated him, he would spend his entire life in an unsustainable state of pique. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and pulled out a lock of hair from behind his ear. He began to braid it absently with a shrug. “Well, yes. Of course I can. Why? Can’t you? I did assume you could, based on the amount of personal real estate you have allotted to it.”

Jun’s lips dropped into a frown, the rest of his face quickly following suit. “Yes. I can.”

Theo considered for a moment, reading the tension in Jun’s shoulders and the sharp question in his eyes that might have been hope if it weren’t so ruthlessly stifled.

“Do you speak Korean?” Theo asked, voice lilting musically with the switch in languages.

Jun flinched, his face flickering from shock to joy to suspicion so quickly that Theo got emotional whiplash just from watching it. Jun leaned in as closely as his harness would allow, straps cutting into the solid wall of his chest as he flung out his words like an accusation.

“Why do you know it?”

Theo shifted in his seat as Jun’s voice dipped even lower with the switch, hitting Theo somewhere deep below his navel. There was something about heirloom languages that made every word hit the ear like poetry, unlike the sterile, pragmatic flat tone of Standard.

“I’m a linguist. I collect languages, especially heirlooms. Thirty-one, so far.” He switched back to Standard, hoping to erase some of the suspicion from Jun’s face. “I’m a hyperpolyglot.”

The blank-faced rapid blinking was a fairly common, if somewhat disappointing, response to Theo’s revelation. “You’re a what?”

Theo bit back a sigh, more than accustomed to providing an explanation at this point. Accustomed, and entirely bored with it. “It means I’m multilingual. I understand, speak, read, and write in multiple languages. It’s my only talent, I’m afraid. I’ve never been particularly good for anything else.”

He wanted to add a cheeky “outside the bedroom,” but Jun didn’t seem receptive to bawdy humor, much less any reference to their previous encounter. He seemed to be making every effort to forget that it had ever happened, in fact.

Theo stomped down on a tiny twinge of hurt over it.

Jun nodded, his brow pinched thoughtfully together. “Makes sense.”

Theo’s chest clenched painfully at Jun’s ready agreement that he wasn’t good for much at all. As true as it was, it always hurt to have it so directly confirmed.

Though remaining aloof was not among his limited talents by any stretch of the imagination, Theo hoped to keep his tone light. He was afraid that an edge of the sharp band around his chest might creep in. “Why do you say that?”

Jun’s smile was quick, there and gone in a flash. It left Theo with the impression he’d been stabbed through the heart with something beautiful and rare, yet he was too awed by the sight of it to mind the pain. “You talk too much for one language,” Jun said.

His tone was teasing instead of disdainful. Just the slightest dash of fondness softening the insult. The combination of that and his toweringly rare smile left Theo reeling.

Jun’s face was back to the usual mask of careful blankness and vague irritation, as though the smile had never been. But Theo knew the truth.

The moment was burned into his memory. He would do anything to see it again. Theo was capable of doing many, many things.

He drew breath to speak, only to choke it back, shocked when Jun started first, speaking without prompting.

“I haven’t heard Korean spoken in a long time. Not since my parents—” Jun turned abruptly away to face the view screen. “Heirloom languages are rare out here. Everyone just speaks Standard, Patch, or Grunt.”

Theo had heard of Patch and Grunt, usually spoken of in a derogatory manner in academic circles. They were the languages used by Outliers beyond the Verge. Raiders, in particular, were rumored to speak Grunt. Theo had always been fascinated by the possibility of learning more about them. Resources on both languages had been exceedingly scarce, even in the linguistics department.

There was no such thing as an uncivilized language, in his opinion. Only fools let their own ignorance and prejudice sway their minds away from new experiences.

Poetry existed in every language. As did expressions of love.

And, really, what could be more civilized than that?

Jun was still observing him cautiously, and Theo rushed to fill the silence. (Ari had always said that no silence was safe from Theo’s interference, and he had always been correct. If slightly condescending.) “Gaelic was my first heirloom. My mother was bilingual; it was her parents’ heirloom language. I only spoke Standard in school, of course. But I sought out other heirlooms, started collecting any I could find. On Britannia, it is still traditional to speak heirloom in the home and Standard in public areas. It was not especially hard to find a variety of languages to learn. Though my family did grow somewhat confounded when I began to speak them all at once.”

Confounded, irritated, overwhelmed. Those terms rather defined most of his parents’ reactions to Theo, actually.

Jun ran his fingers lightly over the buttons in front of him, his voice so soft it was almost shy. “Patch is like that. A whole bunch of heirlooms mixed up and stitched together into a hideous old quilt.”

Theo grinned, the chair creaking ominously as he leaned forward with excitement. “That’s what you’ve been cursing in all along, isn’t it? I’ve caught bits and pieces of it, and it’s only left me craving more. You’ll have to teach me; everything I’ve heard so far was absolutely delightful.”

Jun responded with something in Patch that definitely called into question Theo’s standards for delight.

Theo threw back his head, laughter bubbling up and over like an overfull kettle on boil. “Oh, Ari will simply wilt with despair when he hears I’ve picked up a new language so diverting to curse in.”

Jun gave Theo a solemn expression, all traces of amusement washed away. “You miss him. Your Ari.”

Theo sighed, pulling his hair free from the braid and starting it over again just to give his fingers something to do. Something to calm the wailing tide of fear and longing that washed over him at the mention of his twin. “More than you can imagine. I’ve never been apart from him for so long. We do everything together. I hardly know who I am without him by my side.”

A muscle jumped in Jun’s jaw as he turned his attention to the view screen. “I’ll bring you back.”

Theo stood from his seat and clasped his hands together excitedly as he bounced on his heels. “Oh, would you? I fear it’s been long enough now that he must be absolutely beside himself. He never was one to embrace a change in routine. Dedicated to his schedule, my Ari.”

Jun shook his head once, firmly, gaze flicking to Theo before returning to his screen. “When you’ve finished the translation, I’ll bring you back.”

Theo deflated into his chair, pulling anxiously on the braided lock of hair and sprawling in every direction in a manner Ari considered uncouth. “I see. Yes, of course. I suppose I have not yet served my purpose, have I? I apologize, but sometimes I do forget that I remain your captive. It isn’t always quite what one has been led to believe in books—captivity.”

Jun didn’t respond, tattooed fingers tapping on his screen with urgency for a matter of minutes while Theo braided and unbraided his hair. Jun finally lifted his hands from the screen. “It’s time to prepare for the jump. Strap in tight.”

He glanced over to check Theo’s harness and sighed loudly when he saw that it was twisted and undone, shoved to the side so Theo could drape a leg over his armrest. After clicking out of his own seat with brisk efficiency, Jun walked over to grab Theo by the shoulders and righted him in his seat.

Theo swallowed hard as firm hands settled his hips into place, moving him as if he were as light as a feather.

Theo was an absolute sucker for manhandling.

Jun appeared to know how to handle a man such as Theo.

The penchant wasn’t something Theo was proud of, but it was something that had him sucking in a sharp breath as Jun untangled the straps with a muttered Patch diatribe. A hard yank, securing Theo further in his seat, forced a noise out of him that should never have seen the light of day.

Jun’s startled eyes met his as his fist clenched tight on the strap over Theo’s chest. He released him, shoved away, and returned with half a stumble to his own seat. His ears, exposed by the close-shaven sides of his head, glowed red along the edges as he cleared his throat and strapped himself in.

Jun didn’t say anything as they approached the Verge, his focus on the shimmering barrier of swirling colors and impenetrable energy filling their view screen.

Theo’s breath caught at the sight; he had never been this close before, never seen it in person. The Verge was beautiful in the way that dangerous things could be beautiful sometimes, like standing at the edge of a cliff and staring down into the churning waters of the sea.

Theo never could resist edging closer to beautiful, dangerous things.

Energy crawled over his skin as they drew nearer and nearer, colored light twisting and snapping in lightning-hot flashes in every direction.

Every muscle in Jun’s body tensed as he gripped a sturdy lever on the dash, his knuckles white beneath the ink.

He glanced over at Theo, then slammed the lever forward, sending the dinghy careening straight into the barrier. The ship shook so hard that the bolts holding Theo’s chair to the floor rattled and whined beneath his feet.

Debris started to fall all around them. Small metal pieces pinged against the floor, and wires draped down from the ceiling as panels shimmied open.

Jun’s teeth clenched over a low roar as he brought his fist down hard on the dash to force the lever the rest of the way. It fell into place with a quiet click, and then they were jerked back against their seats, energy crackling with a frequency Theo could feel in his teeth as the dinghy finally punched through.

Alarms shrieked overhead as the ship wobbled and somersaulted away from the barrier. Yelling out curses, Jun slapped blindly at switches and buttons until silence fell, and the ship was righted once more.

A silence that was immediately broken when Theo’s chair teetered, tipped on its base, and crashed to the floor with a bang only surpassed in volume by Theo’s undignified yelp.

The floor shook and juddered beneath his cheek where he lay pressed against the cold metal, wheezing a little as he gasped for the air that had been knocked out of him.

Jun’s cursing took on an entirely different tone, softer and lower as he clicked out of his harness and dropped down to extricate Theo from his.

Strong arms wrapped around his back and hooked behind his knees. Theo’s view tipped again as Jun lifted him with a quiet huff, placed him gently into the pilot’s seat, and fastened the harness that required a great deal of tightening to fit down to Theo’s leaner frame. “Are you hurt?” Jun asked, his words strained.

He ran his hands over the air surrounding Theo’s body like he wanted to touch but was unsure of his welcome.

Theo tried to speak but only managed a cough as his lungs struggled to fill.

Cupping Theo’s chin in his fingers, Jun turned his head to inspect the sore spot throbbing high on his cheek. Jun’s face darkened at whatever he saw, and he brushed his thumb softly, just below the spot. He’d just parted his lips to speak when a static-slashed voice came over the ship’s com.

“Can’t believe you made it back here in that piece of shit, Captain. I was taking bets we’d be scraping both you and the dinghy off the Verge with a rusted spatula. You just lost me a stack of chips, you dick.”

Jun’s hand fell away from Theo as he leaned over the dash. He brought up his screen and tapped rapidly. “I’m sending you my location. Pickup in ten. My ship better be exactly the way I left it, Axel.”

The voice laughed, a pleasing light tenor in distinct contrast with Jun’s rumbling bass. “I think Marco’s got her running even better than she was before you left. We all behaved ourselves while Daddy was gone; don’t you worry.”

Jun pressed a despairing hand to his face, muffling a groan. His ears glowed ever brighter over hunched shoulders as he growled his response. “If you ever call me that again, I will let Boom use your best arm for target practice.”

He muted the com as Axel’s voice started to come through again. Leaning over the dash with a deep breath, Jun turned to face Theo and frowned at his gleeful expression.

Theo tried not to laugh, but, like most efforts to contain himself, he failed miserably.

Jun stomped past him into the main cabin, grabbed his coat off the seat, and pulled it on. He returned to loom over Theo. “You’ll meet the Crew when we rendezvous with my ship. They might be a miserable bunch of assholes, but I can personally guarantee your safety among them. While you are here, you are my responsibility. I take that very seriously.”

Theo nodded, impressed with the speech and the intimidating figure Jun cut in his sweeping coat, with his forbidding scowl firmly in place.

He chewed on his lip, questions bursting from him in a shoulder-quaking fit of laughter.

“So, the Daddy thing—”

“Don’t.”

“Is it a universal ban or—”

“Stop.”

“—is it up for negotiation?”

“I will flush you out of the airlock,” Jun gritted behind clenched teeth, every line of his face a threat. Every line of his face a study in masculine beauty.

Theo held up both hands. “No, you won’t, for several reasons.” With a shark-toothed smile, he ticked items on his fingers as he listed them: “First, this ship isn’t equipped for it. Second, you’ve already shown your hand, and I know you need me alive and well. Third, I think we both know you would miss me too much.”

He added a flutter of lashes to the final point, causing Jun to snarl as he made his way back to the main cabin. From there, the sounds of panels opening and items crashing to the floor were underscored by dark muttering in Patch.

The dinghy jolted, caught in a loading beam, and Jun hit the wall with a shout as Theo rocked securely in his harness.

He didn’t know whether to be frightened or thrilled over this next step into the unknown. Given his options, Theo decided to go with thrilled. Life was much better that way.

It took less than five minutes for Jun to load the dinghy onto the much larger ship and then lower the ramp down into a cavernous cargo bay stacked high with metal crates.

Three pairs of curious eyes peered up at them.