Luz paused and cocked a brow. “What?”
“You’re not wearing pants.”
With a chuckle and indifferent shrug, Luz stepped back. “Pssh… yeah. It’s just us here. No old ladies are gonna come around and get a glimpse at the good stuff. Nothing neither one of us hasn’t seen before. Besides, I need to air out my boys otherwise they get all swampy. Speaking of which… that spacesuit needs to be cleaned out. It’s not doing you any favors. You got a stank on you, man. Not sure I want the big guy all up on the awesomeness that I am if you’re all funky and shit.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Luz sauntered over and lifted a pair of shorts hanging over the edge of the open clothes drawer. Taking his sweet time, he stepped into them, and Filo swallowed hard as Luz’s buttocks vanished under the rising waistband—sans underwear.
“Go scrub your nasty self down and find me in the rec room. You good with that?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Slick. I’ll grab us some juices from the kitchen and get the sim prepped. You sure there isn’t any liquor stashed in this place?”
It had been years, but Filo could handle three or more fingers of bourbon right now. “No. Against company regulations.”
“Ack. Of course it is.” Luz rolled his eyes and passed Filo a salute. “See you in a bit.”
As Luz stepped out into the hall, Filo couldn’t strip off the grimy undergarment fast enough. How could anything so sheer be so stifling? Dropping the musky thing on the floor, he ducked into the lavatory and closed the door behind him. A space of efficiency, the entire room was the shower with a drain in the floor and the showerhead mounted over the sink in the opposite corner from the toilet. He wiped away a section of fog off the mirror. Humid air had yet to be stolen away by the ventilation, pulling a fresh gloss of perspiration over his skin.
With a turn of the controls over the sink, water spilled out of the faucet. He flipped the central knob and the flow switched to the shower, still primed and scalding from Luz’s turn. A sheltered alcove hid a partial bar of soap from the spray, and from this position, Filo could see his chest in the reflection.
Luz had just been hot and naked in here. Did he watch himself scrub his uncut cock clean? Did he rub those perfect buttocks with this bar of soap? The memory of Luz all up close and exposed brought Filo’s dick to full mast. Now you can get hard. Squeezing the shaft made every vein bulge, and the foreskin retracted without help as he lathered through his chest hair, pinching a swollen nipple with his free hand.
The man in the mirror gave Filo a tawdry show, fisting his club with rough strokes intending to appease a need. It swelled, fearsome and unwavering. The head a swollen plum, the slit gaped wider with each pump.
It was an effort not to scream out as his groin seized. His balls pulled up tight and his cock belched and spasmed, streaking the mirror with milky lines of semen. Over and over he spewed out a week’s worth of denial and buildup. By the time he could control himself, he realized steam wouldn’t be needed to obscure the polished metal’s view. He’d painted the entire surface.
What a mess.
With one hand on the wall to steady himself, he used the other to deflect the spray and wash the evidence down the mirror, off the sink, and into the floor drain. There was a lot to clean up.
Privacy was in short supply with Luz on board, and his constant locker-room antics frustrated Filo to no end. Given a chance, he knew Luz would go without pants twenty-four hours a day. He flirted, made raucous jokes, and had no sense of personal space, oblivious of how his remarks and actions could be taken. For fuck’s sakes, the man slept in the nude, forcing Filo to at least wear underwear in bed because he couldn’t trust himself in the middle of the night when he woke up spooning Luz. Physically close, always touching, but Filo knew it was all immature posturing. Guy stuff. Camaraderie with no real intentions. He’d seen this all before.
The only streaks on the mirror now were clean rushes of water. All gone. Washed away like the heated urge and his drooping erection, leaving only shreds of guilt behind for lusting after a man who couldn’t reciprocate his affections. Returning to his bathing, he gave his back to his reflection.
No matter how dissatisfied his cock was, having Luz on the station was an unexpected pleasure. It was nice to hear someone breathing next to him at night, how their body heat chased away some of the loneliness in the dark. And before Luz came on board, Filo hadn’t known how lonely he was.
It made no sense whatsoever. Luz was brash and loud and shattered Filo’s silence. He was everything Filo wasn’t. His constant chatter should have driven Filo insane. It was true Filo didn’t talk much. Deliveries were automated and policy dictated all other company communication to be written communiqués. After Steeg left the Station, he hadn’t spoken directly to another living being in three years. At times he wondered if he’d forgotten how. Somedays, it was hard to communicate out loud, but Luz didn’t seem to mind.
The last three months were agony and elation all snarled together into something Filo wasn’t ready to give up.
Braving the mirror once again, Filo stooped lower to check his appearance. Far too early for a new trim, dark stubble covered his skull, still clean around the ears. The full growth lining his jaw could stand a little grooming. Bushy and unkempt was hardly Luz’s preference given how much time he spent keeping himself tidy.
Filo chuckled, shaking his head. He never used to care about such things beyond convenience. Now he scanned himself like he was going out on a date. Wishful thinking. Foolish behavior at best. But still, he opened his private cabinet for his beard trimmer.
Amid the various toiletries, rows of unopened blister packs sat ignored in the back corner. He picked up one card. More than half of the innocent little pills still sat inside each individual bubble marking a single dose. Turning the sheet over in his fingers, he rubbed his thumb over the series of leftover divots from previous use. With a dubious glance, he skimmed the foil’s matte-finish text, fully aware of what it said.
Dyeniproxinol. Company-grade pharmaceuticals. Designed to combat the effects of social isolation syndrome including but not limited to: loneliness, depression, hallucinations, and delusions. Only one pill a day to a more sane and healthy you. A much more cost-effective method of mental health maintenance than replacing staff.
Filo had stopped taking them about four or five days before Luz’s lifepod breached the sensor grid. Before he’d arrived, Filo had almost forgotten how much he missed having someone nearby. Years of comfort within his own company had come undone.
How serendipitous was his arrival?
Loneliness, depression, hallucinations, and delusions.
Luz was everything he’d ever wanted. Strong but not obsessively fit. Swarthy and fun with similar tastes in recreation. Easy on the eyes, yet not hyperpretty and self-absorbed. A luscious body with firm parts begging to be plundered. If he had to make a wish on the brightest star floating out in the endless galaxy, he would wish for a man exactly like Luz for himself.
But not the hetero version.
Hallucinations and delusions.
The light caught the foil package, highlighting the matte text. Fine print had never looked so bold. Filo’s hand began to tremble, making the copy illegible in motion. Stuffing the half-used sheet back into the stack with the rest, he grabbed his trimmer and slammed the storage door closed. Luz was waiting, and he needed to make himself presentable.
FENDING OFF Luz’s alien invasion wave was a challenge, but Filo was up to the task. In front of the rec room’s wall-sized monitor, they battled with dual controls, the two-man settee barely containing them. It couldn’t be helped, since with Filo seated, there wasn’t a lot of space left for others. Like everything else on the Station, he’d spent his entire adult life hunting for things in this galaxy made for a man his size. Filo wasn’t bitter. It wasn’t in his nature. He’d learned to accept the reality a long time ago.
A deafening cascade of light and sound signaled the de
ath of another invading armada. Luz cursed and shouted as they played, shoulders knocking. Playful jostling back and forth was a vain attempt to throw Filo off his game. Good luck with that.
Luz’s whole body swerved as he launched a new set of ships into the game field. “You dirty bastard! Have you played this before?”
“Once or twice.”
“You haven’t beat me yet. I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve.”
“Your sleeves seem short.”
“Ah! You cheeky fucker! Just you wait.”
This was Filo’s element. In between maintenance assignments, he had the best seat in the house for entertainment and now shared it with a man of equal appetites. It would be impossible to shake him into failure. He was having the time of his life.
It was a welcome distraction given Luz’s proximity. Bumping against him while innuendo-lined insults kept bleeding out of a pair of sinful lips. Calculating strategies and the game’s intensity almost made him forget. Almost calmed the impulse to lean into the man beside him. Urges could and should be resisted, because some antics were nothing more than masculine displays.
Just like with Steeg.
Filo had been through this before. Steeg was a lot like Luz. Crass, spewing vulgar jokes and lewd suggestions at every opportunity. When Kyla and Soomi had been relieved of duty, it was just the two of them with a lot of time to spend together. Like Luz, Steeg ran around half-dressed, tempting Filo’s resolve on a regular basis. Too close. Pushing boundaries. Then one night it happened.
On this very piece of furniture.
Filo couldn’t remember who turned on the porn. It was hetero sex, but the performers were attractive, and Steeg was right next to him, shoulders brushing, muscles twitching as his hand dug in his shorts. All Filo remembered was that when Steeg fished out his meat in silent offering, Filo didn’t hesitate. He knelt and swallowed it down as Steeg gripped his skull, forcing him deeper, tangling Filo’s beard into the most delicious nest of coarse hair.
When it was over, Steeg’s bawdy attitude was gone, skin twitching and restless. Eyes averted, he covered himself like a plucked virgin and left the room, Filo still kneeling on the floor. The next day, Steeg requested a transfer. He didn’t speak to Filo again, keeping to himself until the next ship arrived. He left without so much as a goodbye.
Filo questioned himself for months. Did I take advantage of him? I didn’t force myself on him, did I? Chided himself for even longer. He was only using you. Every day he braced for a sexual harassment charge, but it never came. Guilt and confusion were a crippling duo.
There was no need to repeat history. Luz was just like Steeg in so many ways. Better to focus on the companionship and shake loose all the errant fantasies in his head. Learn to live with the torture, because in the end it would all be the same. The next ship was only five weeks out. When Luz left, he’d prefer it to be on good terms.
Good terms included someone to share B-list vids and battling sims. It was enough.
“You know, I’ve been on board for three months and you still don’t say much. I figured after three years by yourself, you’d want someone to talk to.”
A flicker of surprise almost cost Filo an attack cruiser. “How did you know?”
“I went snooping in the personnel files while you were outside. Sorry.” Focus front and tongue out on his upper lip in concentration, Luz looked adorable, if unconvincing.
Containing his laugh forced a snort out of Filo. “You’re not sorry.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Was it hard being by yourself for so long?”
Filo’s brow crinkled. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” All the answers spilled out into the recycled air, true yet convoluted.
“Is my being here a problem?”
“No!” Filo cringed, his reply a touch too fast, a touch too loud.
“Then why don’t you chat more with me?”
Filo shrugged, unsure of how to respond. It didn’t seem a fair exchange. Luz had never held back since the moment of rescue, explaining how his shuttle’s life support had malfunctioned and he’d been forced to use the lifepod to escape. It was in his nature to share the story of aiming for the closest power source—the Station—and hope for the best.
It wasn’t the same for Filo. He’d never been the most communicative even before coming here. Tech work didn’t make a lot of interpersonal demands on him, and the solitary existence didn’t help. He wanted to talk and say the things on his mind, but sometimes the ideas and how to express them stalled, lost on his tongue as if it had been so long, he couldn’t remember how to free them into sound.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“How did you end up here fixing a commlink station? I mean… I saw your file. You were part of a military program. Big, bad, engineered soldiers and all that sort of thing. There wasn’t a fail mark or expulsion.”
“No… there wasn’t.” Filo narrowed his eyes at Luz.
Luz tilted his head like a guilty child. “Okay. Today may not have been the first time I looked at your file. What? I needed to know the guy I was shacked up with, you know? Four months to wait for another vessel is a long time. So back to the story. What happened with the program? The file didn’t say.”
“I was reassigned.”
“Doing what?”
“Colony security on Galanor-6.”
“Was that a lot different from being in the ranks?”
A tinge of sadness came over Filo. “Horribly.”
“Why would they move you out there?”
“No capacity for violence.” He chuckled at the company’s frustration when his aptitude for tech was so strong. A waste of credits when your fearsome soldier didn’t have the bloodlust in his DNA after all the work to breed and train him that way.
“Seriously?”
Luz blinked in surprise but didn’t say more. They both returned full focus to the sim with more of the same vocal frustration as Luz continued to lose. The last armada challenging Filo vanished in a kaleidoscope of explosions.
“Sheeeeit…. So much for no capacity for violence.”
Filo snorted. “Strategy isn’t necessarily violence.”
“Bet you feel real proud of yourself right now, whuppin’ on the little guy.”
Without turning, Filo gave him a narrow side-eye. “I’m still not feeling spanked.”
Luz’s jaw dropped in comical offense. “Oh, you just wait. Get yourself fueled up. We’re going another round. And this time I won’t go so easy on you.”
They both returned to their respective virtual home bases to refuel and reequip their forces. Only this time all the graphics were different. Bright red bows dotted every building with snow covering each roof line. Sparkling lights trimmed all the doors and windows. It was garish and confusing.
“What’s this?”
Unfazed by the differences, Luz worked his controller. “It’s the Claus Day event. They have special decorations on all the buildings and ships, and have special quests and gifts in your in-game mail until Claus Day.”
“When is it?”
“It’s in less than a week. How do you not know this? Don’t you ever look at a time stamp?”
Filo didn’t know what to say. It must have been the marked date on the calendar he ignored. Nothing important. Just another day in the life on board the Station.
Luz glanced over as he finished his setup. “Are you excited for Claus Day? It’s almost here.”
“Not really. Why?”
“It’s the best holiday ever. Food, drink, presents. How can you not be?”
“Just another day.”
The sim resumed to the same results of dominating Luz’s forces, yet far easier than before. Even if he’d kept the truth to himself, Luz was a formidable opponent. Filo may have typically won, but he’d always had to work for it. Now Luz put up a weak resistance as if he played distracted, his thoughts elsewhere.
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“So what were holidays like in the soldier camp?”
Filo shrugged. “We didn’t.”
“What do you mean you didn’t?”
“They engineered soldiers, not families.”
Luz stabbed a button, putting the whole sim on pause. “Hold on one nano. Are you telling me they set you guys all up but didn’t do anything nice for you? What about birthdays?”
“No.”
“Graduations? Holidays? Soldier appreciation days?”
To each question, Filo shook his head.
“What? Were they afraid if they’d treated you decent you’d get too human?”
“Maybe.”
The more they discussed, the deeper Luz’s scowl became. “That’s bullshit.”
“Just is.”
“Well, that shit’s not happening this year. We’re doing Claus Day.”
Filo’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Here?”
“Why not here? I’m not missing out this year and neither are you.”
“Don’t you need gifts?”
“Yeah, yeah, gifts are part of it, but they don’t have to be. My great-great grandmoms used to go on and on about the days when Claus Day was about doing good things for others and spending time together. You know, before corporate powers stripped the spiritual side out of it.”
“I don’t know how.”
Luz turned back and restarted the sim. “I’m creative. I’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
Dark visage gone, Luz’s eyes were now filled with unbridled calculation. “Don’t sweat it, stud. I’ll take care of all of it. You’re gonna have the best Claus Day ever.”
“My first Claus Day ever.”
“That’s what’ll make it fucking awesome.”
Filo wasn’t sure what the fuss was all about. Claus Day held no more importance to him than maintenance log inventory deadlines. Well… those days he actually cared about. But if talking about celebrating an unnecessary holiday could make Luz’s eyes glint with such excitement—the man was nearly vibrating with glee—how could he say no?
FILO MADE sure all six of the dead circuit boards were touching the floor before the artificial gravity brought them crashing to the airlock deck. The week went quickly. The influx of holiday data demand stressed the Station’s systems at an unexpected level, and he found himself doing an inordinate amount of work to keep the datastream uninterrupted. It seemed like every time he came in from outside, he had to change breathing cells and head right out again.
Salvaging Claus Day Page 2
