Judging by the taste, at least three months.
Jun peered down at the flight projections as he perched on the edge of the pilot’s seat with the rigid posture Theo was coming to expect from him. He made occasional disgruntled noises, muttering to himself in three languages thus far by Theo’s count.
None of it had been complimentary to either Theo or the ship.
Theo struggled to swallow his last dry mouthful of crumbling protein mix, loath to speak with his mouth full. He was just beginning to wish for a cup of tea when Jun held out a dented metal canteen, pushing it into Theo’s chest without turning away from his projections.
Theo opened it with a cautious sniff but was unable to discern any aroma. Mouth still as dry as the sands of Tunis Prime, he threw back the bottle with a shrug.
It was water, flavored only with the slight metallic tang of a magnetic filter. He gulped greedily, then passed it back to Jun, who rectified the misthreaded cap and stashed it beneath the dash.
He went back to the flight screen while Theo explored all the different ways he could drape himself across the copilot’s seat, particularly enjoying the configuration where he let his head dangle from the seat while he hooked his knees over the backrest, ankles crossed for security.
Jun leaned back in his chair with a low sound, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.
Theo watched him, amazed to find that he was just as handsome when viewed upside-down. Although the deep shadows of exhaustion were perhaps even more pronounced at this angle.
“Have you slept? At all? I got a refreshing eight hours. I know I inspire confidence in my capabilities, but surely you did not expect me to engineer my escape whilst unconscious?”
Jun’s habitual scowl had twitched into a grimace at the first sound of Theo’s voice. Now, his head lolled back against his chair, his posture slumping into disarray. He took in Theo’s unorthodox position without comment, although his expression lightened incrementally in a way that wouldn’t have been noticeable on anyone else but, on him, seemed to indicate amusement. Theo considered that a win.
He swung himself up to sit cross-legged in the chair. Jun’s eyes widened slightly as he removed his legs from the backrest in a shameless display of flexibility. Theo knew how to play to his strengths.
He tapped his fingers on his knees, tone tilting up into disbelief. “You’re just not going to sleep? For the rest of the journey? Admittedly, I have no idea where we are going, but it is giving every appearance of taking days.”
Jun lifted heavy-lidded eyes to stare silently at Theo from beneath thick black lashes. He shook his head once to each side and rested his hands upon the arms of his chair.
Theo cocked his head, nestling his chin into the palm of his hand as he balanced his elbow on his own armrest. “Well, that doesn’t seem like a very good plan. It isn’t terribly sustainable, is it? Never going to sleep? Do you know, I read once about a man who was so determined to complete his life’s work that he stayed awake for days and days until his body finally revolted and dropped him dead right there on the spot. I’m not entirely certain whether he had finished his work before his untimely demise, but he certainly would have if he’d just had the good sense to take a nap now and again.”
Jun shut his eyes for a moment, shoved the palm of each hand into his temples, and pressed as though he might squeeze the sound of Theo’s voice from his brain.
“You are unbelievable,” he said, hands still pressing into his skull.
His voice came out as tired as he looked, raspy with sleep and bringing to mind all kinds of delicious imagery of rumpled sheets and pillow talk. Admittedly, even Theo had a difficult time imagining pillow talk with Jun. He seemed more a man of action than words. Theo had absolutely no difficulty imagining Jun in action…
But, at those words, Theo sat up straighter in affront, prepared to defend his research abilities. “No, I’m fairly certain I read that from a reputable source, actually.”
Jun’s eyes opened to pin him to his chair, hands falling carelessly into his lap. Theo struggled not to follow them with his gaze. It was a near miss. “No. You. You are unbelievable. Like, as a person. How are you a real person?”
Theo would have been offended if not for the edge of hysteria flavoring Jun’s voice. He leaned closer in concern. “I think you may be growing delirious in your exhaustion. I’ve never heard you talk so much of your own volition.”
Jun laughed low and hard and long enough that Theo’s concern deepened exponentially.
Theo risked placing a hand on the closest of Jun’s abandoned armrests, edging into the space between them. “What is so very amusing?”
Jun melted back into his chair; his shoulders dropped heavily as his feet slid out along the floor. “You. You think I talk too much.”
Theo nodded and sat back in his own chair as he considered his options. A moment later, he launched into a recitation of his least favorite works of poetry in the low, droning tone he usually reserved for particularly irritating undergraduate lectures.
Jun’s brow furrowed in confused irritation. He rubbed his eyes, then left them closed as his hand fell back into his lap.
Theo continued to drone until the lines on Jun’s face smoothed miraculously away, underscored by soft snoring.
Thankful for his hours of practice sending undergrads to sleep at their desks, Theo stood and began to examine Jun’s holster.
*
It really was a shame how stunningly beautiful Captain Jun Park’s face was in repose, and how terrifyingly furious it was in wakefulness.
“Give it
