"No," he said automatically, and held a hand up to halt whatever Sera was going to say. Her mouth was already open, but she paused. Koit looked down at his feet, at his shiny black shoes, then back at her semi-transparent form on the screen. "If I go out with this guy, you'll leave me alone about this shit, right?"
Sera hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"No," Koit said again, with feeling. "This is a deal. I date, you shut up about it. Take it or leave it."
"Fine." Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but the rest of her expression wasn't angry, so Koit knew she'd get over it.
"Good. When should I--"
"Wednesday night, at the Mexican place," she said, which meant she'd already fucking arranged it, the sneaky bitch.
"Wednesday night," he agreed, like he didn't care. That was the night after tomorrow.
Shock flashed over Sera's features like a wave, and then it was gone, and she was smirking at him. "Shall I help you get ready beforehand?"
Ha. "You wish."
And now she laughed, shaking her head as she did. "I do! I can just imagine your expression the whole time."
Why were they even still talking? Koit shifted the screen to his other hand. "Look, I was busy, so if you don't mind..."
"How could I?" she asked, rolled her eyes, and then disconnected the call.
For long moments, Koit debated going home. Then he decided, what the fuck, and went back into the bar. Boring girl might be boring, but she was still a girl, and that was the important part.
"You'll recognize him by his hair," Sera said earlier that day, when they were exercising together at the gym. "It's like a fucking torch, and his eyes are like ice. Fuck, they're creepy because they're so light, but nice in their own way. But he's pretty, like, almost girl-pretty. He'd look fabulous in drag, actually--you should ask him if he ever dresses up."
Koit hadn't the nerves to ask her for his name; she volunteered the other information without prompting.
Now, standing outside of El Azteca, he wished he'd just sucked it up and asked, because when a fine-featured--girly, he amended--redhead guy showed up and said, "You must be Koit," he felt incredibly stupid.
"Yeah, I, um. Yeah. That's me. And you're my date for tonight." He stubbornly refused to ask the guy his name. He'd find out, eventually, maybe, and if he didn't, then at least he wouldn't have a name to put on what was no doubt going to be a fantastic crash-and-burn.
Hair-like-a-torch smiled, dazzling white. "Sera said you'd probably be standing around looking lost, and here you are." He had some sort of accent, but Koit couldn't place it.
Torchy's eyes really were kind of creepy. But alluring, too; Koit found himself staring without meaning to, and completely failed to come up with a response in time for there not to be an uncomfortable pause. Koit licked his lips. "Yeah, um... yeah." Broken record much?
"Do you actually want to eat here? She probably just picked somewhere at random, so..."
"I like Mexican," Koit said, without the painful hesitation this time. Point in his favor, although he wasn't sure how many points it would take to overrule the way his heart beat faster and his breath came a little shorter than it should. What was he, fifteen?
"Good." Torchy led the way into the restaurant. They got a booth in the 'outdoor' section. It opened up onto part of the station's tertiary oxygen garden, which was part of the reason Koit liked this place so much to begin with, despite its rightfully earned reputation for lousy service. It was so green that it hurt his eyes during the simulated daytime, but it made him feel less like he was floating in the middle of space.
"I like the plants," Torchy said, and Koit followed his gaze out into the darkened garden.
"They remind me of home." Going to his maternal aunt's house in the Appalachian foothills, in spring when everything was bright and well-watered and green.
"Where's home for you? I'm from Germany, south of Kiel."
"I went to Kiel when I was young," Koit said, the words coming easily, honestly. He remembered ships, the kind that went in the air and the kind that went in the sea.
"Ah." Torchy's eyes seemed to twinkle as he smiled. "I'm from near Boksee, then. Nothing but farmland and forest."
"And you weren't interested in being a farmer?" Koit could not imagine Torchy--who looked and sounded like a very intelligent person--being interested in menial labor.
"No interest at all, and I was the fifth child, so..."
That was right, Germany didn't have the population laws. Koit had forgotten about that; he had no siblings, himself. "Right. No one cared if you didn't carry on tradition."
Torchy nodded, and the waitress stepped in during the short break in conversation for their drink orders. Water all around, interestingly enough.
"You don't like soda?" Koit asked once the waitress had gone.
It turned out that Torchy disliked it for the same reason Koit did, empty calories, and it got them started on a discussion about diets in space and health and exercise that was interrupted by ordering food and stretched right up until the food was delivered. A chimichanga for him and an enchilada combo for Koit.
The food was delicious, as always.
"How did you get interested in piloting?" Torchy had paused in putting a forkful of food in his mouth, and he ate it now, chewing politely.
More points in his favor, Koit thought. "It was my dad, actually. He was a pilot, so I grew up knowing about aircraft and wanting to be there at the helm, you know? It's just what I always wanted to do, so there was no question of what track I'd go into once I was out of basic ed." Basic education in most countries on Earth ended at twelve, so a lot of kids had no idea what they really wanted to do, but Koit had been an exception to the rule. "What about you?"
"I was the same. I was always building things, and I knew I wanted to work in that area. My mom decided on the engineering track rather than the architectural track, and so here I am. What kind of aircraft are you looking to pilot?" Torchy leaned forward, smiling.
Koit's heart beat a little faster. "Inter-planetary. My dad did atmospheric aircraft, but I wanna pilot the big boys."
"Lots of math in that," Torchy said with a nod that looked approving.
"It's not so hard once you get used to it." Koit refused to feel silly for the way his pride swelled at the compliment.
Torchy's smile broke out into a grin, wild as his hair. "That's what I keep saying about engineering, but somehow people are still impressed by my career choice."
"Touche," Koit muttered, looking down at the table. Was he actually flustered? Maybe not exactly, but he was dangerously close to it. The realization was like... like a realization. Where he realized something.
How did Torchy even know that Koit was majoring in piloting, anyway? That didn't seem like the kind of detail Sera would share.
Oh, hell.
"By the look on your face, I'm going to guess that you figured out my name." His grin had toned itself back down to just-a-smile. A smug one.
What the hell was Koit even supposed to say? Aside from the obvious, which was, "Sera made you sign up for that dumb site, didn't she? You didn't just find me randomly."
"She signed me up. I couldn't resist having a look around, and there you were at the top of the page."
Ah. Koit wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say, so he stared at his hands and let the silence stretch between them, gravid.
"Is your cock really--"
"Yes," Koit cut in, knowing damn well what the picture on the site looked like and what measurements Sera had written down in the appropriate box. He couldn't help a little smile, remembering the time the two of them had gotten drunk together and then gotten out the measuring tape Sera's mom used for sewing and measured every possible dimension of his cock.
Atlas--using his name instead of Torchy felt only vaguely weird--laughed merrily, throwing his head back, his whole damn face lit up with gleeful amusement,
right up to those light blue eyes. Which were getting less and less creepy the longer Koit stared at them.
Their waitress returned before Koit could come up with anything witty to say and refilled their waters and asked after dessert. Koit raised one eyebrow in question and Atlas shrugged; he turned to the waitress and gave her a bright smile. "No, thanks, we'll probably just be here a while longer talking."
It felt odd--odder than using Atlas' name--to say it, but she didn't react strangely. She just went off to the left, where someone who wasn't yet acquainted with the horrible service was waving her down insistently.
"I don't think Atlas is a common given name," Koit said after a few moments to phrase it best he could.
"That's because it's my surname." Atlas' reply was smooth, but he grimaced. "My parents saddled me with Othmar for a given name, of all things, but I've always been called Atlas."
Koit shook his head, chuckling. "Oh, man, Othmar... that's... man. That's pretty bad. It goes with my surname though: Oyvind."
Atlas scrunched up his nose, but he was smiling. "I don't know, Oyvind sounds almost pretty in a way; it's a Shterpi name, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's my dad's. He actually wanted to use mom's name--his family wasn't initially very happy with him marrying some Hume girl and settling on Earth--but she insisted that they use his."
"Initially?" Atlas picked up on the part that Koit didn't want to talk about, of course. "They came around, in the end?"
Koit pressed his lips together, debating on changing the subject, but finally just shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, they're not really very friendly with my dad still, but they didn't disown him at least. They even let me visit a few times."
"I see. Well--tit for tat, I guess--my dad went crazy and was dishonorably discharged from the German army."
"Like what kind of crazy?"
"He methodically killed every superior officer he could find over a three day period before they managed to catch him."
Damn. "I..." What did one even say to that kind of thing? "Fuck, man."
Atlas smiled; it looked forced. "I was four, so it's not like I remember it."
Still, that had to be hard. He almost felt bad for asking, but-- "So I take it you're not destined for the Celestial Armada?"
"Not enough money in the world," Atlas replied, smoothly although his smile continued to look counterfeit.
"Ah, that's good." Koit wouldn't have to launch into his tirade on why the CA was killing the civilian space exploration program, after all. That was always a plus.
"I notice you're not drinking tonight."
It was a clear change of subject, but Koit allowed it. He really didn't want to keep talking about family, after all. "Yeah, I... wanted to be clear-headed, I guess."
Atlas' smile changed, growing sharper and more genuine at the same time. "So I can't seduce you against your will?"
Predatory, some part of Koit's brain supplied as he managed to do nothing but stare. Not sharper, predatory. And yet, somehow, he didn't feel like a deer in headlights.
"Or is it just that you don't like the feeling of being drunk?" Atlas tilted his head, like he was considering, even though his tone said he'd already made up his mind.
"I don't like being drunk." Koit hoped he sounded casual about it. "It... it makes it a bit harder to control the, um, Shterpi powers, so--"
"You don't want to accidentally make someone hopelessly devoted to you," Atlas finished, nodding his head in understanding.
"Right. Because it's a bit like filling up someone else's glass at a party or something. I know things to do that can make them thirsty, so it empties, but I can't empty it myself."
Atlas stared for a few long moments, considering. "That's interesting; I'd not heard about that part."
Koit shrugged a little, uncomfortable. He hadn't even really talked about this with Sera, not beyond I don't get drunk because it makes my powers unstable. "In theory, I'd be able to if I were full Shterpi, but even my dad said that putting in emotion is a thousand times easier than taking it out."
"Mmm. Have you worked yourself up to asking me back to your dorm yet?"
The tone that went with the words somehow, somehow, managed to make Atlas sound like a complete jerk, and actually made Koit laugh a little. He'd managed to find something more uncomfortable than the idea of asking a guy back to his room. Amazing, that.
"Yeah, okay, fine. Atlas, would you like to come back to Toffler with me?"
Atlas smiled, broad and open and a little bit sexy. "Thought you'd never ask."
And damn it, Koit was smiling, too, but he decided not to care on the grounds that he was about to get laid. Really, if that wasn't something to smile about, then what was?
There were only a couple places in the entirety of Moravec Station that Koit classified as dark. It was one of the downfalls of living in outer space; every square inch came at a premium, so even during the station's 'night' hours, there were precious few places that truly offered privacy. Privately, Koit suspected this was at least part of why all rooms at Moravec Academy were single-occupancy, despite what the school said about distractions, roommates, and studying.
Somehow, Atlas found the one dark place between El Azteca and Toffler dormitory--a thirty minute walk, since they voted against taking the elevator and spiraled around the station's perimeter instead--and just stopped walking and looked up at Koit expectantly. Koit looked down at those pale eyes, already feeling his pulse kicking up a gear.
"Well?" Atlas asked, the right corner of his lips twitching up in a smirk.
Should he just act clueless? Not that Atlas would buy the act, but Koit sort of wanted to hear him ask for it. "What?"
"Are you going to stand there and stare at me, or do you think I've earned a kiss yet?"
Koit acted like he was thinking about it, hmm-ing softly while he waited for Atlas to do something else. But he didn't; he just stood there, face tilted up, smirk perched firmly on his lips. For a few moments, he toyed with the idea of turning and walking on, but he didn't like to pass up challenges and did plan on kissing Atlas anyway so, why not here? "Say please."
"Please."
Pressing his lips to Atlas' felt natural in a way it hadn't felt kissing Kel or the barstool guy. Or a lot of the girls he'd fucked, actually, and maybe that meant... Maybe it meant natural wasn't the word he was looking for, but it was the only word he had for how easy it was to give himself over to the kiss, to the slide of their tongues together and the way he could still taste the beans from the chimichanga in Atlas' mouth.
Atlas' arms slid around Koit's neck as he was about to pull away, and just pulled him more deeply into the kiss. He groaned a little without meaning to. Atlas was pressing against him now, and he was muscular like a boy, no soft curves anywhere. Not that Koit minded, just the opposite. It was just a little surprising, and Atlas was really a good kisser--like really, really a good kisser--because Koit was hard in ways that had nothing to do with exercise and everything to do with the way he could feel Atlas' body heat radiating through his clothes.
"Mmm," Atlas hummed, and then broke the kiss, but didn't let Koit pull away. "Enchilada sauce."
A kiss like that and he was thinking about fucking enchilada sauce?
Something of Koit's thoughts must have shown on his face because Atlas laughed. But softly, a little like he was out of out of breath, and Koit was pleased to hear it.
"Sera said you probably wouldn't have the guts to do that," Atlas said, and pressed another kiss against Koit's cheek. "I'm glad you did."
"I'm not," Koit growled, irritated to have played so neatly into Atlas' hands. "Walking the rest of the way with a fucking boner--"
"Oh?" Atlas reached down, cupping Koit's crotch expertly, and Koit bit back a groan. "Want me to blow you here, then?"
Yes, please, Koit thought, and took a step backward into the darkness of the corner, letting his back rest against the wall while his hands worked to free his belt.
>
Atlas needed no further instruction; he was on his knees and rubbing his face against Koit's cock through the cotton of his briefs. While Koit didn't exactly mind, they were kind of under time constraints here. Anyone who passed them was likely to see, and getting caught halfway through a blowjob was not a sexy idea. "Think you could get on with it?"
"Fuck yes."
"Oh, good," Koit said, or meant to say, but then Atlas started to mouth his cock through the briefs and his voice went up a few octaves and kind of trailed off before he got to the 'd' in good.
Atlas made a happy noise, or what Koit was going to assume was a happy noise, and hooked his fingers in the top of Koit's briefs, then pulled them down. The cool, recycled air of the corridor hitting his cock made him hiss in a breath of discomfort, but Atlas was soon busy wrapping forefinger and thumb around the base of Koit's cock and licking the rest of it from there to the head and back down. Over and over, 'til the whole thing was shining with spit. It was good, but it was so damn teasing that Koit wriggled his hips and tangled his fingers in Atlas' hair in a silent demand to get the hell on with the show.
He looked like he might say something, but Koit didn't give him a chance. He pressed the broad head of his cock past Atlas' lips, and apparently Atlas liked cock more than he liked making smug remarks--small favor, that--since he passed up the latter for the former.
"Holy--" Koit bit back a moan, turning it into a slightly muffled groan instead, and Atlas just sucked harder. Like it was fucking encouragement when he made Koit's knees go weak that way. Which, okay, maybe it was, but Koit was going to come embarrassingly fast if Atlas kept this up: enthusiastic slurping and his hand working up and down the rest of the spit-slick shaft.
"A-At--"
If someone had asked Koit, he would have said that he'd figured it would have gotten easier to talk when Atlas' mouth wasn't on his cock anymore, but he was wrong. So, so fucking wrong. Atlas brought his other hand up and used both at once, twisting and squeezing and tilting his head to the side adorably as he chirped a "Yes?" up at Koit, who groaned again, free hand pressing over his mouth, eyes sliding shut.
Wild Passions Page 8
