by Astrid Amara
As if reading his mind, Cruz quietly said, “You’re still as beautiful as you’ve always been to me.” He reached out and gently pulled Tover’s hand from his own throat. Tover was surprised by the intensity in Cruz’s eyes.
Tover cleared his throat and turned away from Cruz. For the duration of the film he pretended to be engrossed, when all he could think of was that heavy, muscular thigh lying alongside his on the sofa, and how easy it would be to touch it.
The film was abominable, the logic of using ancient sailboats on a planet filled with human-eating monsters ridiculous, but Tover watched the entirety of it because it was nice sitting next to Cruz, despite all his efforts to drum up even a hint of seething hatred. The loneliness that had punctured his soul from that first day on the Jarrow vessel dissipated as he watched this terrible film with someone who had been a lover first, then a friend.
“Why the hell would you fight off an alien invasion with cannon fire?” Tover mumbled.
It was the wrong thing to say if he wanted to ignore Cruz. Cruz enthusiastically launched into an argument about the brilliant strategies of using cannon to disable the particular monsters of Alpha 9. By the closing credits they were laughing and arguing over whether the hero was the stupidest man to ever live or, Cruz argued, a brilliant strategist who made absurd choices specifically to fool the enemy.
Tover shook his head, face aching with laughter after so long. He stretched and turned off the holoscreen, but then realized how dangerous that was. Now he was sitting on a couch with Cruz, and there was nothing else to look at, nothing else to do.
Cruz’s eyes were soft and hooded with that casual, lazy joy he used to show after making love. He watched Tover carefully, and it didn’t take a genius to realize he was waiting for Tover to make the first move.
And because Tover’s traitorous dick wanted to do nothing more, Tover instead rose off the couch to make his way to his own room. At the door he paused, looking back. If Cruz was disappointed in the way their evening terminated, he didn’t show it. He simply raised his hand in a gesture of peace. “Sleep well.”
Tover made his way back to his studio, heart pounding, racing in fact with delirious joy. Could he truly be so weak as to fall for Cruz’s charms that fast?
At breakfast, Cruz started the conversation with Tover and his family on a neutral topic, but it wasn’t long before his mother asked about the famed Zoya Verishnikov and their upcoming report. Cruz told them it would air the first day the CTASA council was back in session.
“The timing is essential,” Cruz told them. “This way they can’t ignore the issue. Not when it is picked up by every single newscast in the CTASA colonies. Whatever was on the agenda for that first week of sessions will be changed in light of the scandal. Politicians will take notice, and Harmony will be on the defensive.”
Tover scowled at his food but said nothing. Regardless of the sad fate of Carida, he still couldn’t believe the company which had, for all practical purposes, raised him, would be so evil.
“What do you think they’ll do?” Ana asked Cruz.
“Deny it, of course.” Cruz shrugged. “And once the evidence is vetted, they’ll blame some scapegoat. But the point is not to rely on Harmony to develop an alternative. The point is to get political with the issue, and have CTASA a player in the negotiations.”
“The rights are still Harmony’s,” Ana said.
“We could change that,” Cruz said. “If we can make it an international ethical outrage. We can take that from them.”
Tover ground his teeth.
“What?” Cruz asked.
Tover glanced up. All the Arcadios watched him.
“I’m not going to say anything bad about Harmony. It’s a company that has given me nothing but respect. They have made me who I am today.”
Cruz’s eyes narrowed. “You mean a pawn for international trade?”
“That’s what you’ve made me!” Tover shouted. His heart beat faster. “They know I’m a valuable part of Harmony’s success, and they treat me well for it.”
“And if you didn’t play along, how would they treat you?” Cruz asked. “Tover, they don’t care about you. They care about what you are. You are a tool for exploiting. It has nothing to do with respect. Yes, you are valuable. You are worth billions. But they have made you into a commodity that everyone wants a piece of.”
“You’re no different,” Tover said.
“You’re right. I want you too. But not for what you can do. I want you because of who you are.”
Tover flushed and looked down at his plate. He stole a glance at Lourdes and Ana, but both seemed oblivious of the meaning behind the comment or else they didn’t care.
Cruz continued. “The only difference between those men on Jarrow and Harmony is that Harmony corpexecs pay you before they rape you.”
Fury rushed through Tover and he shoved his plate away. “Fuck you,” Tover spat. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to your deluded conspiracy theories.”
“Cruz, shut up now,” Lourdes warned.
“You’ve got a gilded cage, Tover,” Cruz said.
“You don’t know anything about it! I choose where I live, what I do, who I see—”
“Could you ever openly be with me?” Cruz asked calmly.
Tover pinched his eyes. “No, but—”
“What if you didn’t want to work on DK Station anymore? Could you leave?”
“There are other posts I could take,” Tover said. “I could have chosen any Harmony port.”
“You chose DK Station?” Ana asked, getting involved in the conversation. She looked calm as well. Only Lourdes seemed as offended by the topic as Tover.
“It was the most prestigious post,” Tover told Ana.
“And you could leave at any time?” she asked.
“I have contracts,” Tover explained. “I can’t simply walk out, but when my contract is over, I’m a free man.”
“And when is that?” Cruz asked. It infuriated Tover, how calm Cruz and Ana were.
“I don’t fucking know!” Tover shouted. “I haven’t read the paperwork in a long time, because I don’t care. I like what I do.” He paused. He used to like what he did. But now he couldn’t make an orbifold to jump across the room. What did that mean for his contract?
“I’m not trying to make you upset,” Cruz said quietly. He stared unwaveringly. “I’m only asking you if you ever had a choice in what you’re doing. I know they didn’t ask you what you wanted when you were conscripted as a little boy. They didn’t ask permission when they performed surgery on you. They didn’t ask you if you wanted to be an artist or a scientist or any other profession when they put you through navigational training. And when you graduated, they gave you a choice of what…three or four positions? At any point, in your entire history with Harmony, were you given an opportunity to say no?”
“I never needed one,” Tover reiterated, but as he considered it, there was some truth in what Cruz said. He thought back on the children he had known at the training academy who had flunked out. They left the academy and were never heard from again. Were they encouraged into other fields? Did they become navigational assistants or pulse-technology developers? Tover was curious.
But he didn’t say this out loud. Cruz, his sister and his mother all watched him, their silent sympathy infuriating. He didn’t want their pity for his life in Harmony; he wanted their guilt for his life afterward. He’d been perfectly happy before Cruz had come along and ruined everything.
But is that really true? A voice nagged in his head. Sitting in his aviary, yes, he had known a sense of peace. But the monotony, the loneliness, the confinement on that station…
“No.” Tover stood and shook his head. “You can’t convince me that my life has been something it isn’t. I was the best at something, and I did my job with pride until you came along.�
� His voice broke. “I won’t let you make me believe it was worthless.”
Cruz stood as well. He touched Tover’s shoulder. “I’m not saying that at all. Of course you should have pride in your accomplishments. What you do is phenomenal, and that is part of who you are. I’m asking you to question what you’ve been told by those you trust. If you still think Harmony has never been anything but a gracious employer, that’s your right. But don’t agree to it until you’ve fully thought out the question.”
Tover left the kitchen and made his way back to his room. He sat on his bed and tried to form an orbifold. He could sustain one briefly, but it collapsed quickly and he was too tired to try it again. He preferred sleeping instead.
He dreamed of Cherko, kicking his broken legs. Terror bolted through him and he shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He felt light-headed with throat-closing panic as he struggled to breathe. He fumbled on the bed, looking for his mouth clip, which had been jarred loose as he’d thrashed in his sleep. His hands trembled by the time he got the respirator back into place. He took deep, shaky breaths, blinking at the blurry green world beyond his window.
He hated the respirator. No wonder the Caridans were so opposed to having to wear them to live on their own planet.
Ana knocked on his door softly and asked if he wanted to go back to the ruby hornbill valley with her. Cruz had appointments with los jefes all day, so she volunteered to take him, along with Feo and Lalo, both of whom seemed more excited about Ana’s picnic lunch than the prospect of the view.
Tover agreed, grateful for the opportunity to revel in something truly beautiful and free. In the valley he noted the flight patterns, color variations and nesting habits of the rubies. Ana, Feo and Lalo sat on the ledge overlooking the valley, chatting quietly as they ate. Afterward, Ana came over and joined Tover. She tried to stay interested, but her conversation quickly wandered away from birds and to some guy she met the day before, her leaking roof, her own aspirations for the future if Carida should fail, what she was going to cook for dinner. Tover tuned her out as well, although he liked the steady rhythm of her conversation. He didn’t feel lonely when she was around, even if he didn’t really care what she discussed.
They spent several hours there, and when he finished his notes, Tover found Ana asleep, hunched against a large rock. He shook her awake, and she stretched and smiled at him.
“You okay?” she asked.
Tover nodded. “Great day. Love these birds.”
Ana laughed. She hugged Tover.
Embarrassment and awkwardness filled Tover. He wasn’t used to showing affection with women. But Ana’s hug was simple, and he squeezed her back.
“Sorry my brother is such a dick,” Ana whispered. “Don’t let his words get to you. He’s been political his whole life, he doesn’t realize when it isn’t appropriate.”
“His speech this morning is the least of his offenses against me,” Tover told her.
Ana frowned. “He loves you, Tover.”
Tover stood quickly. He made his way out of the valley, taking careful steps. He didn’t want to hear Ana, but she followed closely behind.
She might have said more but then Feo’s cheerful face appeared over the ledge and he reached down to help Ana up the last steep incline.
That evening, before she left for her clinic in Villazul, Lourdes told Tover about a visual book on Caridan wildlife that she thought he’d be interested in, located somewhere in the family library. After she left and Ana had turned in for the night, Tover made his way through the house to Lourdes’s office. Noise came from Ana’s room, where she was watching something. If Cruz was around, he was nowhere to be seen.
He didn’t bother with the room lights. He sat down on the couch and flipped through files until he found the collection of articles and holo-visuals on Caridan native life by a Dr. Mark Hanson.
Tover quickly forwarded through the flora section and skipped past the amphibian-like creatures until Dr. Hanson discussed carbon-dioxide-breathing mutations in birds.
Darkness permeated the room, and he considered moving the holoscreen back to his own bed. But then light blazed into the room and Cruz stepped out of the bathroom, naked.
He was toweling his hair as he walked toward the guest room. He froze immediately as soon as he spotted Tover.
Tover stood, embarrassed. “Sorry. I was reading.” He backed away from the holoscreen and stood against the wall beside the door. But he didn’t leave.
Cruz was silent, expressionless. He let the towel fall from his hands, but he made no other move. Naked and still, he stared at Tover. He began to get an erection, but Cruz seemed to ignore that as well, eyes never straying from Tover’s flushed face.
Tover looked over Cruz’s dark, almond-colored body. He had known that skin very well at one time. He remembered his surprise the first time Cruz undressed, seeing the myriad scars. How did a structural engineer end up with the damaged body of a soldier?
Now Tover knew, and he took in the familiar landscape, the faded white slash above Cruz’s right hipbone, the scar on his arm. Above Cruz’s left hipbone was a fresh wound, circular and puckered angrily, the flesh angry pink.
“When did you get shot?” Tover said at last, breaking the silence.
Cruz didn’t look down at his body. He stared at Tover as he spoke. “On the Jarrow ship.”
“You were shot? I didn’t notice.” Not that Tover had been conscious of much other than his own agony, but surely he should have seen the blood, or felt the recoil if Cruz had been injured while carrying him.
Cruz’s cock rose to full mast, but he still made no move toward Tover.
“You didn’t react to being shot. You don’t feel anything at all, do you?” Tover hated the hurt in his voice.
“I feel everything.” Cruz stepped toward him. He said nothing more. But his eyes—they were warm now, dark and dilated. He moved so close he could pin Tover to the wall if he wanted to.
“You should show it,” Tover suggested.
And for a moment, Cruz’s visage broke. His eyes trembled and a glitter of moisture filled his eyes.
Then Tover could not see because Cruz kissed him.
Instantaneous, all-encompassing relief flooded Tover. Cruz’s touch was an endorphin-rush, Tover’s body immediately slack with need. He opened his mouth and Cruz thrust his tongue inside, carefully tilting his head to avoid dislodging the breath clip. Cruz’s hand slipped around Tover’s damaged neck and cradled him, his large calloused hand touching him with gentleness.
Cruz broke the kiss and slid down to his knees. He lowered Tover’s trousers and pulled Tover’s cock into his mouth without so much as a pause. Tover’s head slammed back against the wall, overwhelmed with sensation.
Cruz’s tongue swirled over the tip of Tover’s prick, and Tover sucked in his breath, his eyes fluttering closed. The feeling was devastating, for he couldn’t resist Cruz now, not when he made Tover’s body feel so good.
Pleasure flooded him. His legs trembled and he didn’t care. His brain turned off the anger and hurt he felt, and all his focus directed to the slick, wet heat of Cruz’s tongue, and the breathtaking pressure of Cruz’s lips tightening at the base of his shaft.
Cruz’s hands rested on Tover’s thighs, eyes closed, with a look of adoration on his face as he sucked Tover’s cock. Tover took in the sight of him crouched there, muscled back and defined spine leading down to the swell of his ass.
It felt too good to last long. From the depths of his body Tover’s ecstasy escalated, culminating in a release of unadulterated joy.
He stood there, shivering in aftershocks of pleasure. He watched Cruz wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. His erection stood prominent between his legs, the tip glistening with moisture. The sight of him crouched there, cock jutting so ruggedly between muscled thighs, stirred Tover’s desire once more.
C
ruz stood and kissed Tover again. Tover tasted his come and toothpaste and that masculine spiciness he had always loved about Cruz. He let Cruz take his hand and lead him into the guest bedroom.
The small room smelled like Cruz. His clothes were strewn all over the furniture and the sheets on the bed were rumpled from restless nights.
“Come here,” Cruz said, laying down.
Tover knew if he thought too hard about what he did he’d be disgusted with himself, so he let his body make the decision. He took off his clothes and lay down on the soft mattress. He let Cruz pull him close, let him run his hands over Tover’s skin.
“You are so beautiful,” Cruz whispered. Tover found that hard to believe now. Most of his injuries had healed, but there were still bruises here and there, his neck was scarred and he was too skinny.
But Cruz’s touches soothed away his insecurities. He kissed Tover again, and Tover relaxed into the lazy pace Cruz set, let himself be carried away without thought into the simplicity of sex.
Tover smelled Cruz’s arousal and reached down to grasp that heavy, hot solidness in his hand. The feel of palming Cruz’s cock was like a homecoming.
Cruz’s slow kisses and his increased thrusting into Tover’s hand brought Tover’s own erection back in full force. Cruz gently pulled back.
“If you keep doing that I’m going to come,” he said, his voice husky.
“That’s the idea,” Tover replied.
Cruz smiled, bright and carefree, and Tover couldn’t help himself. He kissed him, pushing into Cruz’s embrace.
“Do you think I could fuck you?” Cruz asked. He sounded hesitant.
What the hell am I doing? Tover thought momentarily. This is insane.
“Yeah.” Tover pressed closer.
“You sure?” Cruz asked.
Tover continued the kiss because he didn’t want to answer that. He wasn’t sure. He was pretty certain this was a terrible idea, but the mere suggestion had him hungry.
Cruz broke their kiss and rose to his knees, frowning down at Tover. “I don’t want to put weight on your knees.”
