by Jenn Burke
Felix’s gut clenched every time she rocked into Zed.
The holo show brightened, blotting out the dancers as the music changed tempo. Hazy starscapes pulsed through the air, spinning and contracting. Felix thought he might throw up. He looked down to find his feet, unsure if they were still attached to his body. Then he was yanked sideways. Someone had caught his wrist. He stumbled into a crush of bodies, hands flailing about for purchase. When he looked up, Emma’s face loomed close to his. Too close. He could smell her breath. The weights at his shoulders were her arms.
Felix turned his head, looking for Zed, and Emma caught his cheek, unsubtly forcing him to face forward again. “He went to find the head.”
“Oh.” Belatedly, Felix thought to play dumb, pretend he hadn’t been looking for Zed, and that she shouldn’t something… something. But his thoughts were too swirly and Emma wore a grin she’d borrowed from Marnie. The “knowing grin.”
Her hips bumped into his. “C’mon, loosen up. Or I’ll pour another shot down your throat.”
His feet had been moving, sorta. But the music hadn’t caught him yet. Felix didn’t dance much. Not outside of his head. Closing his eyes, he tried to feel the beat like Zed did.
Emma let go of his shoulders and grabbed his hips. “Like this. Jesus, Flick. For an athletic guy, you move like shit.”
“I don’t really wanna dance.”
“Yeah, you do.”
There was no point in arguing. Emma always got the last word. And, really, she was only looking out for him in her own way. He let Emma move his hips and gave in to the weird rhythms pulsing through the air. The holograms seemed to caress the exposed skin at the back of his neck, and the floor moved beneath his feet. Or maybe his feet were moving. Maybe he was actually dancing, and feeling freer for it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes again. Did it matter what he looked like? No one could really see him.
Emma’s hands left his hips. Felix opened his eyes to find Zed had returned. The chaotic patterns of light turned Zed’s eyes to steel rather than blue, and his mouth was slanted into a sleepy-drunk smile. Felix’s gut clenched tighter, as did points farther south. If Emma bumped her hips to his anytime soon, she was in for a surprise. She had turned to dance with Zed, but did the swept back arm thing to keep Felix involved, then she melted or something. Must have been the holos or the liquor swirling through his veins, because suddenly Felix was dancing with Zed.
No hands on hips or curled about shoulders, no grinding, flexing, simulated sex. Emma had taken that with her— apparently supposing they’d forget she’d gone and bump into one another by mistake. Maybe she had known about Felix’s erection.
She’d also taken all the breathable air with her, because none existed between him and Zed. Just this weird state of expectation and temptation. A longing that didn’t feel all his own. Why was Zed looking at him like that? What did the question in his eyes mean?
Maybe Felix was just doing it wrong, the dancing thing. He had grace in the gym, but not here.
Zed raised a hand as if to touch him. Felix batted it away. Instinct had him following up, pushing his palm to Zed’s opposite shoulder as he sought to unbalance his opponent. Realizing what he’d done, Felix rocked back. Shit. That wasn’t…
He needed air, space.
Thrusting his way through the dancers, Felix stumbled across the dark floor of the club looking for the exit. He bounced around for a while until he found the staircase leading to the roof.
What the hell?
The music and the dancers flowed around Zed, unnoticed, as he stared at Flick’s fleeing back. His blood buzzed with energy even as his mind felt a bit blurry with the shots Marnie had bought all of them. He’d lost himself in the energy of the dance, appreciating Emma’s moves— damn, she could roll her hips like no one’s business— and then Flick had been there and he’d wanted to be closer. He’d wanted to hold him. He—
Fuck, he had a hard-on.
It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten horny on the dance floor. Bodies moving, butts and groins rubbing… erections were kind of a given. But he hadn’t gotten hard watching Emma.
He’d gotten hard watching Flick.
“Are you gonna go after him?” Marnie shouted in his ear.
He turned to her. “What?”
“Are you gonna go after him?” She arched a brow.
“I— ” He stared at the crowd again.
Marnie laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t.”
Yeah. Yeah, he would.
He ignored the part of himself that begged him to stand still and think. Thinking could be overrated— it was something his instructors had cautioned him about. Considering every angle was all well and good, but sometimes action had to happen on instinct. He pushed forward, through the crowd, aiming for the area where he’d lost sight of Flick. Breaking through the edge, he stumbled and caught himself against the wall. The bass beat of the music thrummed through him and he felt unsteady, as though he was walking on the deck of a ship and not a concrete floor. Was it the music making him feel that way? Or the emotions, hardly acknowledged, cascading through his mind and heart?
Stop fucking thinking.
He yanked open a nearby door to find a staircase leading up. Unless Flick had slipped back into the crowd, this is where he would have had to go— there were no other exits. Zed leaped up the stairs two by two until he reached the top of them and another door. Then he paused, filled with a certainty that opening it would lead him somewhere unknown. Somewhere he’d never considered going.
He could turn around. He could walk back downstairs and find Emma in the crowd. He felt nothing for her but friendship, but she was a good friend. An awesome friend.
Not as good as Flick, though. No one was like Flick.
He pulled the door open and stepped through.
Chapter Three
The roof was not designed for visitors. A bulky HVAC unit sprawled over one half, blocking Felix’s view of the sprawling metropolis of Titusville. The other half was blessedly dark.
Felix looked up. The stars always seemed weird when viewed through an atmosphere. Closer in some inexplicable way, as though they were stitched to a blanket draped around the planet. Yet also farther away. Unattainable. Felix gulped at the humid Florida air, filling his lungs. The taste of the dancefloor lingered on his tongue, and when he licked his lips, they felt numb. The sonorous bass continued to pulse through his feet, though that might simply be a memory. The roof of the club was otherwise quiet.
A breeze whispered past his cheek. Despite having spent six years planetside, stray air currents still incited a sense of unease. Station-born always knew where the vents were. Just as they always knew the location of every accessible bulkhead and maintenance panel. Their lives could depend on such things. Air that moved under the influence of atmospheric pressure, outside of a domed habitat, was just… strange.
A pang of homesickness wound through him. Though distance could be relative, tomorrow he’d put another system between himself and Pontus Station— he’d be another step removed from his home and family— and right here, right now, it was hard to remember why he was going. Surely the AEF didn’t really need another engineer.
Felix scanned the rooftop again, looking for somewhere to camp out for a while. He’d have to go back downstairs soon, or risk the party joining him. But five minutes to get settled would go a long way toward getting him through the rest of the night.
The roof access door creaked open. Someone tripped through, kicking aside the brick Felix had used to prop it ajar.
Shit.
The door swung closed with a heavy clang.
Double shit.
“I hope you told someone where you were going, because that brick you just tripped over was holding the door open.”
“Flick?”
Triple shit. The very person he needed space from. “What are you doing up here?”
“I could ask you the same thing
.”
Nope, not playing word games with Mr. Tricky Dicky Smarty Pants. “I just needed to cool off. It was hot down there.”
“Yeah.” Zed moved away from the shadow of the door, and the ambient city light caught his frame, highlighting his broad shoulders, the shine of his dark hair— and the fact he had one hand wrapped around the back of his neck. It was a nervous gesture, one of his tells. “Everything okay with you? You’ve been kinda weird tonight.”
“’M fine. Just gonna miss everyone, you know?”
“You’ve got the passcode to my jazer account, right?”
Felix swallowed. Jazer comms were expensive, which was why Zed wanted him to use his account rather than rely on the slower, less costly relay point or ripcomms. Neither would be the same as this, though, standing so close he could smell Zed’s cologne. Talking face to face.
As always, Zed read his thoughts. “I know it’s not the same, but it’s not as if this is it. We’re just gearing up for the next adventure.”
That last brought a smile to Felix’s lips. “You sounded like me just then.”
Zed shrugged. “Bound to happen.” He glanced over shoulder. “So what’s this about the door?”
“It locks from the inside. If no one saw you come up here, then we’ll have to message someone to come rescue us.”
“Marnie knows we’re up here.” Of course she did. Zed dipped his chin and a shadow obscured his face. “Flick… is…” He gripped the back of his neck again. “Wanna sit and talk awhile? Just you and me?”
Felix argued with himself for long enough that Zed looked up again, showing his confused expression. And something else. Hurt? Not stepping toward him, not flinging himself into the wide expanse of Zed’s chest, took every ounce of self-control Felix had. He’d gotten away with that when they were boys, but now? It would take more than self-control to govern what happened next.
Instead, clearing his throat, he spoke roughly. “Sure. Um, yeah.”
Over near the edge of the roof, a large, square duct folded away from the bulk of the HVAC forming a long, low bench. Felix climbed over it so they could sit facing out, with a view of the city and the stars. Zed sat next to him, close but not too close. Felix shuffled over, reducing the gap. This could be the last time he sat next to Zed like this. Probably ever. If Zed and Emma didn’t hook up during specialist training, then Zed would meet someone else out there in the big, wide galaxy. This night could be the end of…
Would it be dramatic to say all things?
He didn’t know what to say, had never known what to say, but Felix knew if he didn’t say something, now, Marnie’s disappointment would be the least of it. Just do it. He could treat it like a project, right? Start small, with a test, and then alter the plan to suit his result.
He grabbed a quick breath. “This is what I’m going to miss the most.” Rocking sideways, he bumped his shoulder to Zed’s. “Just you and me.”
The warmth that spread through Zed’s body at the innocent touch of his friend’s shoulder was new. Or maybe that was just his system shaking off the effects of the dancefloor. Or, hell, maybe Flick’s body acted as a windbreak.
Maybe Zed was going a little crazy. His heart was definitely beating too fast and his throat had tightened. Blood rushed through his ears, a low rumble that drowned out everything but Flick’s voice. He could chalk it all up to being upset about leaving Flick tomorrow— because he was— but that explanation didn’t quite hit all levels of truth. So what was it? Why was he feeling so unsettled? He didn’t want to say goodbye, but the dread in his chest felt… bigger than it should.
Flick leaned away, putting space between their shoulders. Fuck, Zed had fallen into thinking-mode, letting the silence stretch too long. Making a concerted effort to shut off his brain, Zed slung an arm around Flick’s shoulders and pulled the smaller man to his side.
“I’m gonna miss it too,” he assured Flick. A whole hell of a lot.
Flick leaned into Zed’s side. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Zed squeezed Flick’s shoulders and bent to press a kiss to his floppy blond curls.
He realized what he’d done just as his lips made contact with Flick’s scalp. His heart thumped painfully. Physical signs of affection had always been a hallmark of their relationship, partially because Flick could be so standoffish. Being one of the few people allowed to touch him freely was a gift that Zed recognized and cherished. He never shied away from slinging an arm around Flick’s shoulders or giving him a hug or ruffling his hair or… hell, he’d even given Flick’s hand a squeeze once or twice when they’d both needed reassurance about something.
And then… there’d been that time with the kisses.
He didn’t know if Flick remembered it. It had been shortly after they’d arrived at Shepard Academy, two weeks maybe. One day, Flick just hadn’t been around— which was odd, to say the least. In those first few days, he’d clung to Zed’s presence, adjusting to both the schoolwork of the Academy and being planetside for the first time. For him to disappear suddenly made no sense, but Zed had thought at first that maybe Flick just needed some space. By the second missed class, though, he’d known something was wrong. He’d started searching for Flick, and when he couldn’t find any trace of him, managed to get the school administrators involved. It had still taken the rest of the day to find Flick— he’d been stuffed in a locked footlocker in an unused dorm room by one of the class assholes as a lesson, or maybe a joke.
Zed would never forget how his heart had leaped into his throat when they’d popped the lid on the footlocker. Flick had been drenched in sweat, barely conscious, limp and out of it. He’d stirred slightly as the cool air brushed his sodden curls— and then Zed had kissed him, on his forehead, his cheeks, his temples, trying to show Flick just how much he meant to him, how sorry he was that he hadn’t found him sooner. In that moment, Zed had understood just how much he loved his friend.
Then a nurse had pried Flick from Zed’s fingers. Eventually Zed had calmed down and when Flick didn’t mention the kisses, he assumed he didn’t remember them. Just as well. It would have made their friendship weird, right?
Except now he was kissing Flick again… and it wasn’t weird. At all.
He lifted his lips away from Flick’s head. Gently, he nudged Flick’s chin around so he looked up at Zed. Zed examined the face he knew almost better than his own— and why was that? Why had he invested so much of himself into this boy— man— sitting beside him? He’d never had a friend like Flick, one who made it easier to breathe when he was around because Zed knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no matter what happened, Felix Ingesson would have his back. Always. A friend who calmed him and excited him, one who made Zed want to be more. Better.
A friend he loved, with every fiber of who he was.
“Zed…?” Flick whispered.
Confusion dwelled in the breathy tone, confusion Zed couldn’t dispel because he felt it too. The boner he’d had on the dancefloor returned, more insistent. But… he wasn’t… he’d never felt this sort of attraction for another guy. Not that there was anything wrong with guys who wanted other guys— who cared, as long as everyone was happy? He’d just never considered…
Hadn’t you? Are you sure, Zander?
Flick’s hazel eyes were so fucking perfect, and his lips, parted slightly, were so fucking inviting…
Stop thinking and do.
Zed lowered his lips to Flick’s. And his brain went silent.
Zed was kissing him.
Actually, Zed’s lips were touching his in something like a kiss. A soft press, breath held for long enough for their lips to adhere. Felix thought about pushing him away, just briefly. His right hand clenched, fingers curling into his palm. Instead, he leaned forward, his outward breath a release of a sort.
He kissed Zed.
Their lips moved at cross purposes before catching together in the sweetest harmony. Zed’s mouth softened beneath his, then firmed as he kissed back, sealing the gesture. Fel
ix tucked his hand— fingers uncurled now— between them. He paused there, unsure if he wanted to grab Zed’s shirt or push him away. Zed’s lips were at his again, a firmer press this time. Felix hummed into the connection, the sound one of pleasure and confusion.
He was kissing Zed. His first kiss, and he felt as if he’d been given something divine. The tingle at his lips might as well be magic— something he had wanted so badly, he must have imagined it. Surely he wasn’t imagining it.
Felix pulled back, panting softly, thoughts reeling. “Did you just… kiss me?”
Zed looked about as stunned as he felt. “I did.”
“Did you, um…” Felix tugged at the curls on top of his head. “Did you mean to? Like, you didn’t just sort of slip down from my head to my mouth or something?”
“No.”
Zed’s mouth found his once more, and this time Felix was ready for the kiss. No more prepared, but ready. He leaned in, lips parting in invitation. How he knew to do that, he had no idea. The desire to have Zed in his mouth felt as natural as the need to taste Zed’s lips. To feel the brush of his tongue, to know him in this way. When the tip of Zed’s tongue flicked across his lips, Felix met the play. Then it seemed their mouths were fused, and that if they were pulled apart, they’d suffocate.
Who knew kissing was so good?
Felix grabbed at Zed’s shirt, the silken SFT fabric slipping beneath his fingers until he found purchase. The heat of Zed’s skin radiated through, and the urge to strip the shirt away all but consumed him. The raw nature of his need shocked him. The deep thrum of it, the passionate stirring of his blood and… fuck, he was so hard.
“Wait.” His lips still touched Zed’s. He could taste Zed’s breath. “Wait.” Letting go of Zed’s shirt, Felix leaned back a little more, knowing he couldn’t talk with Zed’s mouth so close to his. “I… Is this…? How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Hell, I don’t even know why I kissed you.” A crease appeared between Zed’s brows. “Well, yeah, I do. I think maybe I should have kissed you way before now.”
