Omega Moon

by Noah Harris

  And then there’s sex. For me sex has always been like a party happening in another room. I can hear the music and see the lights, and sometimes the door will slam open with a shocking sudden glare and noise. But most of the time, it’s all happening somewhere else.

  Maybe it’s metaphorically an animal in a cage. A tired, hungry, lean wolf who will die of starvation. But try as I might, and kudos to Darius for never giving up, I can’t get that cage door open with any regularity. I’ve been ignoring it for so long my wolf, if I had one, is just like a friend I don’t speak to very often and who makes me feel guilty when I think of him.

  Five or ten minutes alone, touching the places that feel good and pinching where it feels nice, licking my lips as I get harder and harder, then grunting softly as I come. I smile into the dark, no fuss and relatively little muss. And that poor wolf can quiet down for a day or so, so I can get back to work.

  Not so for Darius, who climbed into my sleeping bag on a camping trip in our first year of military school, found he liked it too much to leave, and gradually established it as the norm. No, when Darius is horny, he wants the world to know. He loves scandalizing me with tales of masturbation in surprising places and with surprising men.

  Darius realized early on that sex is about the only thing that throws me off. It’s easy to make me stutter or blush that way. I’m not a prude, by any means, I never discourage Darius from sharing his exploits or fantasies. I love it, and it would have felt like a betrayal of trust if he didn’t. But I never respond with any of my own.

  He loves making me gasp so much that half the time I realize I’m only pretending to be scandalized. Usually I’m disinterested, or into it for the comedic value. Or turned on, which would utterly destroy the world if it was discovered. Darius would be on that like a bloodhound on a scent.

  I think about it a lot, though. If we’d been partial to drinking or drugs, or if we met when we were younger, how long would it take Darius to get me into bed? Not very long I think. I love him so much, and he’s undeniably beautiful, and the room in my head where sex resides doesn’t seem to care one way or another that he’s a guy when it comes to fantasies.

  Like a lot of stuff these past five years, I’m fine letting it slide until it eventually makes more sense. Maybe the overview effect will help. Maybe I can get far enough away from Earth that nobody will care if I start changing.

  But there’s something else there too, even harder to put in words. The thought that if I let the imaginary wolf out, he’d destroy the whole world. Maybe it’s not that I’m not horny, maybe I’m so horny it’s a nuclear-grade secret.

  Is there a word for that?

  The banquet had been awkward enough, I could easily justify drinking. As sloppy as I felt the next day, I know Darius and I were the soberest of the bunch. Pippa, bright-eyed and red-cheeked, whirled the floor with her girlfriends, laughing exquisitely. Julian Forrester, who didn’t abstain but never seemed to get drunk, stood off to the side as always, staring at that spot just a few feet to my left, and looking away whenever I caught his eye.

  I always know where Julian Forrester is, when he enters a room, or where he’s standing in a crowd. I assume it’s because I have a tendency to break things when he’s around, like he gives off some kind of mental static or something. And anyway, knowing your surroundings is a good thing. Situational awareness and spatial awareness are key traits of successful tacticians and leaders. So, in the field, I could probably just turn that radar into an enemy-location sixth sense. For now, though, it’s just Julian.

  Which makes sense, because until the banquet, when our rivalry officially ended, Julian was the enemy whether I liked it or not, and I hated it, always. No matter how snotty he got with me, it was so easy to see how we were both being boxed into those feelings, and how his reactions were simply a result of that.

  I needed Darius to explain it all. At first, I thought it was just another part of his plan to destroy Julian. But he said no, this was about the two of us. Locked in a battle for outright control. That made little sense to me, and all the sense in the world to Darius.

  Darius loves schemes more than just about anything, and it’s doesn’t seem gross when it’s him because he’s so funny about it. And so, so skilled at it.

  “Julian is your enemy because you’ve beaten everybody else,” Darius began.

  “I haven’t beaten anybody. I’m good at this one thing, Flight School, and that’s enough for me. Some people are great singers, or athletes, or very beautiful…”

  I chucked Darius under the chin, going for cheap flattery, and while he knocked my hand away he did flutter his eyelashes.

  “But me, I’m good at this. I was bred for this.”

  Darius pretended to take me seriously, for a moment.

  “All right. And what about Forrester?”

  When I shrugged, Darius crouched like an angry cat, snarling. “He doesn’t seem bred for anything in particular,” he hissed. It was so nasty it cracked me up.

  “It’s inevitable that one day you’ll settle down together. There’s just too much heat,” I said.

  Darius grumbled, kicking at imaginary stones and sticking out his lower lip. “There is zero heat. I love him, he hates me. That’s not a two-way street, so, I hate him back twice as hard. But he only has eyes for you,” he murmured, looking a little wild.

  “Oh yeah? And why is that?”

  It’s always been a rivalry of circumstance, nothing as huge as it’s seemed to Darius. Once this was all over and the final names were called, we’d evaporate into nothing. Free to find out who we were without a nemesis.

  “I don’t think it’s simple. I think that over time, he really has come to fear you. Or respect you, or…it’s complicated. But you can feel it, and I know you know what I mean.”

  I did. “I’ll agree he has it out for me, and like it or not I’ve ended up competing with him…”

  Darius laughed in my face. “You love it! Who would you be without it?”

  He was right, but I didn’t like hearing it. A man needs a place, deep down inside, where he can stand. Native soil. It can’t all just be other people bringing you to life.

  “I don’t deny that. I appreciate that he keeps me on my toes. What I don’t appreciate is he seems to be doing it on purpose, to me specifically, and that feels…”

  “Not nice,” Darius supplied, knowing what I was about to say. “No, it’s not nice. But it is important. Competition drives the market. If that weren’t true we’d still have NASA, and that crotch-hugging jumpsuit of yours wouldn’t have any logos on it at all.”

  “So? How does that make it better? I hate that. All of it. I don’t want to compete with anybody. I just want to be the best. My best.”

  Darius grinned. He knew I meant it, but nothing did it for him like riling me up. So, I pulled up my chest in a superhero pose, and gave him the full show.

  “I’ll take any inspiration, or challenge, that can help me do that. It’s the only way to use this energy for something good.”

  “Not the only way,” Darius grumbled darkly.

  “Oh, sure. I’ll just have casual sex with Julian Forrester, and…”

  Darius’ eyes glazed over with an icy stillness, and I swear I could have slapped myself in the face right there. Be cool, man.

  “Obviously that’s a ridiculous statement. I think you should just give this up. We’ve got a week to go. Pledge your troth or let it slide, but either way you have to understand, this is the last time either of us will really care one way or the other about Julian.”

  Darius nodded, still shaken and looking at the ground, so I dragged him onto a great stone bench beside me. My fierceness in that moment had surprised us both, but Darius just burrowed into my side, still sniffling. He’d been around enough to know how I get when I’m overwhelmed.

  “The first time we went aboard the Orion, his eyes got wide, and he smelled it. He breathed in so hard through his nose I could hear it. His chest puffed out, a
nd he closed his eyes and smiled, and I just thought…this place? It smells like a gymnasium crossed with an auto parts store, what are you doing? And then I realized what he was smelling, space. And I wanted to kiss him. That was four years ago.”

  I shivered and leaned back, looking deeply into Darius’ eyes. He was talking about leaving the mission, so Julian could go. I kissed the very tip of his aquiline nose, all the while looking past those lush eyelashes.

  “That’s why you’re my best friend, and Julian is the enemy. That’s exactly why. Because you’re kind, and because you keep it a secret. I’m sorry you’re not coming, but I also think it’s cool you did this for him. You’re a good man. And I am very proud to be your friend.”

  Darius snorted, burying his face back in my neck, and I carried him up to bed, staying very quiet and very still, until we were both fast asleep.

  That was the last night of the old world, before the banquet. It was also the second-closest I ever came to giving in, and just wrecking our friendship entirely.

  But I left the marshmallow alone. It’s better to know it’s there and ignore it than treat it like a toy.

  Captain Harbaugh pulled me into a side-hug, arm casually across my shoulder, and watched me watching Pippa dance.

  “Noticed you didn’t bother to act surprised…”

  “Unlike Julian,” I coughed, remembering his bewildered expression when they called our names. “What the hell was that?”

  We laughed, shaking our heads, giddy.

  “It’s going to be fun,” he murmured. “He’s going supernova about it.”

  Julian was actually smiling in public for once, begging off Pippa’s whirling circle of dancers as they tried to pull him in.

  “Yeah, he’s about to lose it, huh?”

  The captain smiled, indulgently. That same thing in Julian’s stillness draws him, too. Maybe we’re the only ones that have caught on to just how deep his thoughts go, when he gets quiet. Harbaugh nodded at him with his chin.

  “I believe a word from you would really put him at ease. I don’t know that Margot’s ever going to let up on him, and Pippa can’t spend all her time running interference.”

  For some reason, my tongue felt like it had doubled in size, thick and slowing my speech.

  “I mean, I will be nice to him, I’m already smiling at him more, we can figure out how to work together once we’re…”

  “Tonight, cadet. Trust me.”

  I know an order when I hear it. I sighed, swallowed, and headed off around the crowd.

  I was just deciding I’d been standing at Julian’s side for a weird amount of time before Julian finally spoke up.

  “So, your parents must be proud. Or excited.”

  I hooted to myself, quietly. “I’m sure they will be.”

  Julian cast me a sidelong glance, seeming shocked. “They’re not here?”

  I almost laughed, thinking about it. The dread. “I couldn’t handle that. The pressure.”

  He cocked his head, confused. “You knew you were going.”

  I looked out over the dance floor, trying to be honest and encouraging as ordered. “Not that pressure. The pressure of just…being their son. In front of all these people. They have a lot of dreams, not to mention expectations.”

  Julian nodded, eyes fixed firmly on something fascinating just past my shoulder, as usual. “Yeah, I’m here alone, too. I mean, my dad didn’t come.”

  “I don’t know too much about your family,” I said slowly, unsure where to go from there, or what to do with my hands.

  “Yeah, I don’t either,” Julian said, before looking up at the ceiling, clearly wondering what he even meant by that. I felt a need to help him out.

  “I’m adopted. Did you know that?”

  Julian shook his head.

  “I think that’s part of why they need so much from me. Or want to give me so much. So, I’ll thank them, or…we don’t talk a lot in my house. It’s hard to find ways to say, you know, I love you. Thanks for trying.”

  “Pippa said you were always well-dressed as a boy,” Julian said brightly, suddenly desperate to connect, and it made me laugh. I could feel it, an honest laugh, creasing my blue eyes and making Julian’s jaw give a little tremor.

  “Yeah. Their little dress-up doll,” I leaned in, sharing secrets. “That part I didn’t hate.”

  Julian smiled. “What was Pippa like, when you were growing up?”

  I smiled widely, and I knew Julian liked that.

  “Oh, funny. Funny kid. Out of our whole school, she had this way of making even the adults laugh. She was never too much, though. Never precocious, just sweet and smart. She knew how to work a room.”

  Julian laughed, croaking out a little honk before concentrating with embarrassment on the tiny plastic plate in his hands. “I can definitely see that, yeah. Were you Mr. Popular back then?”

  It felt like a jab, and I focused back on him sharply.

  “No. I mean…Yes? I guess I didn’t think about it.”

  “So that’s a yes,” Julian smiled apologetically, trying to rush past whatever he’d said and get back to the easy moment we’d had.

  After a few seconds of awkward silence, we turned suddenly to each other and started talking at the same time. A casual observer would have had to look away. He laughed some kind of apology, claiming it was his bedtime, just as I was wandering into some vague offer to bring him along to the after-party, to wherever Darius was going next.

  It only seemed fair to invite him. Julian was the man of the hour too, and it was what Harbaugh wanted. A nice way to kick off this new relationship and get past five years of resentment and obsession and whatever else we had going on.

  Julian’s eyes lit up at first, but he decided in an instant, looking down at the floor again.

  “Thank you so much, but I really do have to go to bed. I didn’t sleep a lot last night, and now this Champagne’s got me…”

  He looked directly at me, the green-gold hazel of his eyes shining bright, for the first time since I approached him. He went quiet and still, just a moment longer than I expected.

  “But thank you,” he emphasized. “For the offer. I’m glad we’re…doing this together.”

  I took his hand, unsure what else to do, and then awkwardly turned that into a mangled handshake that made Julian snort as he walked away.

  I got a little sad at that. You just can’t win with him.

  Leaving the banquet alone, I realized I was done with parties. It seemed wild, pure and magical to walk out under the bright moonlight. It felt powerful knowing that before the next full moon on Earth I’d be up there, walking her surface. What after-party could possibly compete with that? Even if I’d been interested in debauchery?

  There wasn’t a sock on the door when I got back to our room, but I could see candlelight flickering under the door. I should have been able to figure it out from that alone. But, still a little tipsy, I forged ahead. I opened the door softly, sight adjusting quickly from the fluorescent glare of the corridor, to find one of our classmates sitting in a chair in the middle of the room.

  I couldn’t see his face, but he was stark naked, hands behind him, and there was a figure between his legs. I looked closer, and yes, of course, it was Darius. Darius with the other guy’s cock in his mouth, drawing guttural moans from him as he writhed beneath Darius’ tender touch, the warm slow wetness of his mouth as he devoured him.

  Well, I thought. We all celebrate in our own ways.

  As the door clicked softly shut behind me, they both looked up. Darius had a satisfied smile; the other guy was both nervous and clearly turned on by the audience. The first-year who’d been following Darius around all year, Rob something.

  I stood for an eternity, eyes locked with my best friend, the invitation there. Eventually, I smiled my regrets and retreated. It felt like anything could happen that night, and in that moment, I wanted nothing as much as I wanted to learn those secrets and be a part of those mysteries. But I’d
been through this a million times before in my mind. I knew I loved Darius much more than that. Way too much to let that wolf out of the cage. Not tonight.

  He was a romantic of the highest order, and I’d spent almost a decade right up against that fire without giving in. Doing it now would just be cruel, no matter how much my body ached for release.

  I retreated down the barracks hall, wondering where I could possibly go, as the scene kept playing out in my mind, over and over. The ecstasy on the younger man’s face. The focus and expertise of Darius’ mouth on him. He’d been practicing, while I stayed dry. I’d never thought about it, until now, the power that gave him.

  Nor how sweet it all was. The loving way the first year stroked Darius’ hair wasn’t at all as rough and demanding as I would have assumed these things were. It was like he was his darling. Their fingers, interlaced, as Darius took him deep into his mouth, his throat. Effortlessly playing his hand along the length as he twisted his head first this way and that way, making the guy’s hips rise and fall…there wasn’t really another word for it, besides sweet.

  I crept back out into the warm night, heading for a vestibule near the old chapel. It was a favorite spot for trysts, because you could hear somebody coming from any part of the courtyard. The second I thought of it, I got hard again. It was the perfect place. In the shadows, with the moon shining down.

  There was nobody there when I arrived, which seemed like a sign. I sat down in my dress whites, on an old carved wooden chair they’d dragged out here before our time. I dropped my pants around my ankles and sat, only thin boxers between my skin and that solid oak. The relief, as I released my penis from its confines and into the warmth of the night, was exquisite.