Priest and Pariahs

by J. Alan Veerkamp

  Something about his sharp tone made Priest feel small and stupid. “Okay. I’ll check up on you later.”

  Shifting his weight between his feet, Costa said nothing as he fixated on Priest edging his way to the door, his piercing stare harsh and unwelcoming. With a quiet nod, Priest left the room. The door closed with the usual soft hiss, but it might as well have been slammed in his face.

  Priest had been rejected before—who knows how many times he’d said the wrong thing and been told to go to hell—but there was something off this time. He knew Costa was capable of being snotty and rude, but this was more like embarrassment. What brought this on—his instant headache? Something didn’t add up, but he knew direct questions would get him nowhere. What else was he supposed to do?

  There was something more going on, but Priest was at a loss as to how to figure this out.

  Unable to help, Priest drifted around the halls for a bit. He didn’t have a work shift until it was time to launch, and he wasn’t allowed off-ship due to the details of his release. After going up and down in the lift a few times, there didn’t seem to be anyone free to spend time with him.

  The sound of Mrs. Claus’s voice nearly startled him. “Corporal Jones, you have a private text message.”

  “From who?”

  “Passenger Costa McQuillen.”

  Priest’s brow twisted in confusion. “I’ll take it in my quarters.”

  The short trip back to his room was muddied with confusion. Why didn’t Costa just summon him back? Why the private message? Was there going to be a giant fuck off waiting for him back at his quarters? The idea brought forward a wave of dread.

  Inside his room, he queued up his monitor, the display showing the incoming message. His chest tightened a bit as he debated over the possible contents. Why was he so concerned about a com from a pretty man he barely knew? Shaking off his ridiculous apprehension, he opened the mail, its cyber-green letters in full view.

  To: Priest

  From: Costa

  My meds have kicked in and I wanted to message you to say that I think the poker game is a brilliant idea. This will be a good chance to meet some of the crew and keep me from growing stagnant on the trip. And it’s an adult poker game at that? It appears as if I’ll be getting to know some crew members more intimately than I’d originally planned. Ha Ha.

  It sounds as if I need to know more details to be sure I’m prepared for all the fun. Com me back when you have the opportunity.

  Ta.

  Dumbfounded, Priest read the copy over more than once. What the hell happened? While he was glad that he had his sixth player, Costa’s change of mind sparked a whole new set of questions. Where did the happy person who wrote this com come from? After what he’d said earlier, Priest had no doubt that Costa was hands-off for the voyage.

  Now he wasn’t sure what to think of him.

  Chapter Four

  “FIVE-CARD DRAW, ladies. We’re all here to have a little fun.”

  “Anything wild?”

  Priest scoffed. “Wild cards are for pussies.”

  “So you're making a lot of wild cards?”

  “Fuck off.”

  A series of snickers and chuckles erupted from the six men surrounding the recreation room table. The rest of the ship might have had hard metal walls, but Priest loved the deep rustic red surfaces surrounding them here. The lush furniture was a joy to sit in, and from the corner where they sat, the rest of the amenities were accessible. Outside of his personal quarters, this was the most comforting space on the ship.

  On Priest’s left was the burly, shaved-headed security guard, Barrus, and Teddy, one of the ship’s navigators. Arbor sat across from Priest, nervous and excited, stealing glances at Priest as he introduced himself to the others. The men were being polite, but word was spreading about the crazed incident in the Mess Hall, and he noticed the crew being extra cautious in their dealings with him. Priest hoped this game would undo some of that. He still felt guilty for picking up the guy and causing the whole mess.

  On the right was James, Barrus’s handsome husband and chief supply officer, and Costa, looking incredibly stunning as usual. Casual conversation filled the room. Every man was chatting Costa up in one way or another, and Costa was charming them all, joking along as he tucked his hair behind his ear with a graceful hand. Costa’s smile was delicate and provocative, the iridescent tattoo highlighting his right cheekbone. He knew the effect he was having on the men and was loving every second.

  It was a nice, if not curious, change.

  After James collected the funds and the chips were divided, Priest set up his deck of cards. Selecting Poker on the holographic menu, the images drew up a classic set on the surfaces of every card.

  James broke in before the shuffle could begin. “Go over the house rules, Priest, for everyone’s sake.”

  “All right, ladies. Once the game starts, no quitters. Shirt and pants are worth three hundred and your skivvies are worth five. First man broke and naked agrees to be the willing playmate of the winner. Everyone else can do what they want once the clothes are gone. No requirements there.”

  Costa interrupted, his voice containing a silky, playful quality. “I don’t see anybody here that wouldn’t be worth the effort of playing until the end.”

  The sultry mirth in Costa’s eyes only made Priest want to win more. The chance for a night of Costa under him would be a prize better than the credits. And the way others around the table were eyeing him, Priest would have to use every skill in his arsenal to win.

  Priest shook his head to clear his thoughts and get back to the task at hand. “If you cheat, you’re at the mercy of the rest of the players, no rights of refusal.”

  “Ha! You know how that turns out, don’t you, Priest?”

  Narrowing his eyes, Priest didn’t even give James the benefit of looking at him. “No one needs to air out the dirty laundry at the table.”

  Teddy started laughing, passing a dirty leer his way. No one needed to be reminded what happened when Priest got caught trying to fix the game to get Erron into his bed when he first arrived on board. Teddy and Carson, the head nurse, took their turns on Priest that night. At one point, they didn’t bother taking turns. It had been fun, but his ass still hurt if he thought about it too much. Priest couldn’t have said no, really. He got caught, and they were his rules in the first place. Priest might have been a scoundrel, but he owned up when it mattered.

  “Speaking of cheating, where’s the remote to this deck?” Barrus's accusing brow framed his pointed stare.

  Priest pulled the metallic cylinder from his pocket. “Right here, Barrus. The one and only. You can watch me put it on the shelf so everyone knows I’m not scamming.”

  Getting up from his seat, he made a big theatrical show of placing the remote on a shelf on the far wall. It was visible, yet well out of reach of all players. Not having access to it galled him—especially with Costa in the game—but he didn’t want anyone accusing him of not playing fair. Not this time at least.

  “This deck has a remote?” Costa's quirked brow was a gorgeous accompaniment to his beautiful grin. “Did you happen to have this rather suspicious deck of cards with you at the poker game you won just before we met?”

  Priest tried to look innocent as he shrugged, but he couldn’t control his smirk. “I might have.”

  “Now I’m not so sure I’m feeling sorry about your loss of currency to the magistrates.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m planning on winning some of it back tonight.” Priest ran a heated stare over Costa’s body as he wiggled his eyebrows. “And then some.”

  Costa laughed along with the challenge. “You’re certainly welcome to try.”

  “Are you sure you really want to play this in the rec room? Out in the open?” Arbor hedged in his seat a bit, but had yet to refuse the game.

  “There’s not too many people out and about right now.” Teddy patted Arbor’s arm to reassure him, but Priest caught the subtle tens
ion as Arbor’s vision flashed over to Teddy’s pony tail and the heavy tattoos spilling out from under his sleeves, reaching over his wrists and hands. There was barely any skin showing through the bright graphics. Arbor’s expression flattened slightly. He nodded to Teddy with a hesitant smile, but shifted a tiny bit closer to Costa.

  Priest shrugged. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”

  “Okay.” Arbor straightened his back and squared his shoulders. “I’m good.”

  The men gave a series of approving grunts and nods. There might be a chance for Arbor on board yet. Priest pulled out his chair, giving it a wide straddle as he sat down. With a broad grin, he rubbed his hands together in excitement.

  “All right, ladies. It’s time to play some poker.”

  “I’LL RAISE YOU seven fifty. If you want to stay in, Priest, it’ll cost you your underwear.”

  Priest was not happy. He sat in his chair with only the thin fabric of his briefs separating him from the cushion, while everyone else was only shirtless.

  Except Arbor.

  Somehow the sneak sat with a majority of the chips, fully clothed, and looking quite proud of himself. And now he was forcing Priest to offer up his last piece of clothing to stay in the game. He had no choice, really. The amount of chips he would have, if he folded now, would make it hard, if not impossible, to work back up to the top.

  The rest of the table had folded, so no one else was involved in this showdown.

  Costa's teasing was infuriating. “You seem stressed, Priest. You’re not concerned over the outcome of this hand?”

  “Nope. I’m just making sure what I want to do here.”

  Priest could feel the atmosphere thicken as all players waited with bated breath for his decision. He chewed his lip gently for effect, already knowing he was staying in. The five cards in his hand were two sevens and three jacks—a full house. It wasn’t an absolute winner, but being his first decent hand, he wanted to make this one look good.

  Following Costa's lead, Barrus chided right along. “You’re certainly taking your time making a decision.”

  “I just wasn’t planning on fucking a midget tonight.”

  Arbor gave off a loud snort. “I’m not a midget. I’m a dwarf. Besides, who said you were going to be the top?”

  Loud howls of laughter burst out around the table as Arbor matched Priest’s stare. A heat colored his cheeks as he took in the fact Arbor had got one over on him. He’d fix that.

  “All right, you little fucker. I’m in.”

  A chorus of catcalls and whistles erupted as the first chance of elimination came alive. Priest shook it off. He wasn’t planning on being the first one out. It would disrupt his plans for the flirtatious Mr. McQuillen tonight.

  “Good luck, Priest.” Costa leaned over the table on his forearms, pushing his smooth chest forward, and winked.

  When Priest tore his gaze away from Costa, the cards in his hand shimmered and re-drew themselves into five plaques of random suits and rank.

  What the fuck just happened? It took everything he had not to start screaming as he stared at his now useless hand. Even then, Priest couldn’t help but look up at the remote sitting untouched on the shelf above.

  “Is something wrong, Priest?” Costa blew him a kiss.

  “No… No. I’m fine.” Confusion slowed his reaction as the reality sunk in.

  He was about to lose.

  The worst part was, if he told them the cards malfunctioned and he had a full house before he bet, not a single person would believe him. It would be seen as some sad attempt to keep from being the party favor of the night. Fuck. He was screwed. In more ways than one.

  He knew he should have spent the currency and ordered a second remote.

  “C’mon, Priest. You can’t bid anymore, let’s see those cards.”

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Arbor laid down his hand—two pair. It was almost a joke to show his own, but he was stuck. When everyone saw the mismatched, impotent cards he held, the uproar was much louder than he expected.

  “What the hell, Priest? Did you really think you’d bluff your way into that pot?” James could barely breathe, he was laughing so hard.

  Priest found Costa staring at him, not even watching the scene unfolding. “I guess I didn’t think this one through.” The crease between his eyebrows felt particularly deep at the moment. Was it possible to be annoyed and confused at the same time? The glee in Costa’s eyes was unmistakable. He knew what happened and had to be responsible. But how?

  “I’d like to rake in my winnings, but there seems to be a piece of clothing missing from the pile.” Arbor beckoned with his finger toward the chip pile.

  “It’s a little chilly in here tonight. How about I keep ’em on and give a special show to the winner at the end?” A chorus of snickers and refusals answered his suggestion.

  Arbor snapped his fingers and pointed to the pot. “Drop ’em, flyboy.”

  Stunned, Priest couldn’t help but see the dwarf sitting up tall and proud in his seat, a near arrogant grin of his face. Where this show of confidence came from, Priest had no idea. He was trying to decide if he liked it or not when the rising group of whistles and chants of “drop ’em, flyboy” derailed his train of thought.

  Pushing back his chair, Priest stood tall as the raucous noise grew in volume. Arbor’s gaze was trained on him, daring to burn his skin. When he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his snug grey briefs, he swore Arbor gasped. The arrogant expression had shifted into longing, as if he hadn’t seen a naked man in years. Perhaps he needed a little thrill?

  Carefully, he grazed his thumbs down his hips, exposing the flesh running from his hip down to his groin, making a point not to reveal anything too fast. Sliding his hands around to his backside, he uncovered his ass, keeping his cock hidden from hopeful eyes.

  The chanting continued as he leaned forward far enough to touch the floor, peeling the tight fabric down the muscles in his thighs and calves until he stepped out of them. He pulled his chair under him and sat, using the table to keep himself decent from Arbor’s vision as he tossed the pair of underwear onto the table.

  “I believe those are yours for now.”

  Standing up in his seat, Arbor took the briefs, keeping a tight hold on them as he happily scooped up his winnings. “I didn’t get to see much there, you big coward.”

  Priest shrugged and smirked. “You gotta win to get a proper look at the good stuff.”

  PRIEST STOLE ANOTHER glance at the slender male sitting next to Arbor. Costa was down to a pair of silky, shimmering boxer briefs and Arbor was still fully clothed. Everyone else was sitting in the nude waiting patiently. All of Costa’s chips were in the middle and his briefs had just been wagered. This would be the last hand unless his luck held out.

  The temperature at the table had increased. As the number of losing players increased, so did the bawdy comments and hands—not of the card variety—disappearing under the table. The arousal level in the room was at a near peak, except for Priest. Although, the anticipation was having an effect on him. As the prize for the evening, he was being saved for the winner as the others sized up each other’s equipment and made lewd suggestions of how the night would end between them.

  Costa played right along, his frigid streak from the other day completely nonexistent. Sultry innuendo kept issuing from his lips in contrast to the others’ crude comments. He was completely at ease in this crowd of roughnecks. Costa was guaranteed a partner, or partners, this evening. If he lost, it would be any number of the remaining players. If he won, that person would be Priest. And that’s what the pilot wanted from the beginning, right? Costa could still come back and win this thing.

  Please let Costa win.

  Barrus cheered, eager to move things along. “C’mon, people. Let’s see if this is the end!”

  Arbor leaned forward and splayed his cards out in a fan. Three sevens and an ace of hearts graced the table. Whistles of approval filtered arou
nd the room as the tension built. A small sheen glossed Arbor’s forehead, belying the centered calm he displayed.

  “What do you have, Mr. McQuillen?”

  Costa studied his cards before collapsing them into a stack. He dropped them face down into the pile of chips as he turned to Priest with a cheeky smile.

  “Your hand is much better than mine, I’m afraid. Although I have to admit it’s worth the fifty credits and a pair of my favorite knickers to see Mr. Kittering have a good time. Congratulations on your win. I hope you enjoy your spoils.”

  Arbor’s beaming grin widened as each player shook his hand in turn, congratulating him. He was genuinely happy. Accepting each handshake respectfully, Arbor never took his eyes off Priest for more than a second.

  Costa shimmied out of his underwear as James transferred Arbor’s winnings to his account. Arbor climbed out of his seat and hurried around the table to his prize.

  “Do I finally get a good look now?”

  Priest couldn’t help but admire the earnest request. He gently slid his chair back, hoping not to disappoint the grateful winner. While Arbor’s gaze took in every inch of his winnings, his hand stood poised to reach out, but held still. It was as if he didn’t know what to do next. The near-innocence of it made Priest smile.

  “I’m all yours for the evening. Would you like to take me to your quarters?” Priest motioned to the game surface. “Or would you prefer me on the table?”

  A sudden light went on behind Arbor’s eyes, brightening his face. He started nodding so fast it was almost comical. “My quarters. Definitely.”

  Priest gathered the cards and remote while Arbor unearthed his clothing from the stacks of chips. Everyone else was starting to get real friendly and invading each other’s personal space. If he couldn’t be a part of it, Priest didn’t want to see what Costa would be up to this evening. It was time to go.

  Besides, given Arbor’s excitement, the evening could still be fun.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Arbor said.