Nothing.
The corridor was empty, no movement in the main cabin. The doors to Orin’s bunk, the laboratory, and the cockpit were all closed.
Ari turned his face into the cuff of his jacket to muffle his sigh of relief.
Putting steel in his posture, he walked out to the galley for a small breakfast of dehydrated protein and grain with a sprinkling of dried fruit on top to make it palatable.
He heard nothing from either end of the ship until he stood to clear his dishes.
The door to the cockpit slid open to reveal Orin appearing bright and well rested, with a hint of dark stubble darkening his jaw. He brightened even further as he caught sight of Ari where he stood frozen in the galley.
The universe, Ari decided, was unfair.
Orin strolled over, Ari’s attention snagging on his long fingers as they brushed against the outside of his thighs with every step.
Unfair.
Orin lowered his head to catch his gaze.
“Morning, gorgeous.”
Ari turned away, loading the sonic with unnecessary concentration.
Orin grazed his fingertips down Ari’s sleeve, but Ari pulled away, steeling himself to meet Orin’s eyes.
Orin’s expression was open and gentle, a small smile curving the line of his mouth.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed, sweetheart, watching you come apart like that was just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Surprised you didn’t melt a hole in the wall, you burned so bright for me.”
Ari shook his head, raising his chin against the urge to let it hang in shame.
“It was an experiment. A failed experiment. I won’t subject you to my inexpert attentions again.”
Orin tilted his head, the hand that had reached for Ari combing back through his messy hair in a gesture Ari might have called nervous on anyone else.
“Isn’t an experiment meant to be repeated? Over and over and over again? That’s just good science, professor.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, the tip of his tongue poking out teasingly between his teeth.
Expecting ridicule, Ari was thrown off course by this gentle teasing and reassurance. The steel he had so carefully and painfully injected into his spine was distressingly susceptible to the melting sensation he had discovered in Orin’s arms just hours before.
Ari wanted nothing more than to melt just like Orin had said, until they burned a hole through the wall, until they burned a hole through the entire ship. It would be so easy to forget his worries in Orin’s arms.
The truth of that thought finally strengthened his resolve, and he squared his shoulders as he faced Orin head on.
“It was rash of me. My brother’s life hinges upon my success, and I cannot afford such a meaningless diversion.”
Orin nodded as he faced the floor, thumb rubbing hard across his lower lip. When he looked back up at Ari, the hint of softness had fled his gaze.
“Meaningless diversion. Gotcha. Well, there’s no need to worry about me bothering you, I ain’t one to hang around when I’m not wanted.”
Ari’s throat closed around the urge to explain that it was never a question of wanting.
That he felt as though he could drown in the wanting.
That it was the overwhelming depth of the wanting that posed the problem.
Orin had already turned away, sauntering off to his bunk with a lazy grace Aristotle could only marvel at.
Ari made his way to the cockpit, where he settled into the copilot’s seat and activated the holopad on his side of the view screen to transfer data from his personal pad for closer review.
He pulled up the nonsensical scribblings Theo had left on the back of the note that had stopped Ari’s heart.
Lists of unrelated words, phonetically spelled as Theo did when discerning accents and dialects. Incomplete sketches of geometrical designs: three interlocking triangles, a labyrinthine river of parallel straight lines intersected with tiny circles, and small hexagonal shapes nestled close together.
Hangul characters, messily scrawled in imperfect rows down the margins on each side.
Ari had yet to make heads or tails of it.
He jerked in his seat, closing his notes as the door hissed open and Orin walked in. He unceremoniously dropped into the pilot’s seat and fired up his own holopad, activating the view screen as he switched out of autopilot. Ari sat silently and watched the projections light up across the clear simulated quartz, informing them of their speed, location, and state of the ship.
Orin didn’t glance up from the screen, fingers dancing over his controls as he spoke. He hadn’t shaved, the shadows on his face bringing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
Unfair.
“Making our first stop in a few minutes. I know a place, small settlement but honest folk. They won’t cheat us any more than they have to.”
Ari leaned back in affront.
“Why would you frequent an establishment that you know will ‘cheat you’?”
Orin’s eyes were hard as they skated over Ari’s face and back to the controls.
“People gotta eat, professor. Things can get mighty scarce out here. Everyone on the Verge knows the score.”
They operated in silence as Orin pulled up to the settlement, which appeared little more than a rock through the view screen.
Their landing was just as astoundingly smooth as their takeoff had been, the largest difference being Orin’s continued silence as he guided them into the tiny dock.
Ari felt like he was holding his breath, both of them watching the controls as Orin shut down the ship, locking it in place.
As soon as he finished, Orin turned with a smirk on his face.
“Well, professor, you wanna get ready to go?”
Ari unbuckled his harness and straightened his jacket as he stood.
“I’m ready.”
Orin gaped at him before breaking into an inexplicable fit of laughter.
He laughed so hard he would have fallen out of his chair if it weren’t for his harness, broad chest shaking as he wiped tears away.
“Oh, no you ain’t, Red. People round here’ll take one look at you and charge us triple. You got anything a little less—” He considered the emerald velvet lapel of Ari’s jacket critically.
Ari threw one hand up in exasperation. “A little less what, precisely?”
Orin raked him over from the polished black tips of Ari’s shoes up to the delicate lace of his cravat.
“Just, a little. Less. Something without all that pretty nonsense you like to wrap yourself in like you’re a little gift. There’s men out here that would see all those fripperies as an invitation.”
Ari peered down at himself, smoothing his hands over his embroidered waistcoat. “An invitation to what? Larceny?”
Orin rolled his shoulders as he turned away, muscle jumping in his jaw. “If you’re lucky.”
Ari opened his mouth to inquire further, but Orin unbuckled his harness, running a hand through his hair with a sigh as he glanced at Ari.
“Look, just take my word for it. Don’t you have something to wear for getting your hands dirty? Anything at all? I’d offer my second shirt, but you’d be as lost as a flea on an elephant’s ass in it.”
Ari considered his limited travel wardrobe, which contained slight variations of everything he was wearing. He met Orin’s eyes and shook his head, pulling on his cuff self-consciously
“No, I. I don’t. This is just how I dress. It has never been an issue before.”