Theo had no idea what that meant, but it sounded lovely. Idyllic, in a pastoral sense. He cast a skeptical eye around their decidedly non-pastoral surroundings. “However did they go from a life like that to this?”
Axel’s face closed off, his gaze shifting as if he only just realized he may have said too much. “They hit a rough patch. Hey, you know what? I think you’re ready to graduate from buttons to switches; let’s try some of these.”
Theo allowed himself to be distracted by flicking switches for a few minutes. He waited until Axel started to relax before speaking again.
“I had the occasion to meet Marco earlier. Well, I say ‘met.’ Rather, I accidentally ran into him and tried to start a conversation, but the engine room was so loud I doubt he could hear me.”
Axel’s mouth softened with fond amusement. “Yeah, He’s not much for talking anyway. Can’t relate, personally. He may not have much to say, but he can take an engine apart and put it back together blindfolded, and it would run better than it did before. Plus, he’s stupid-fast on repairs. Park couldn’t get a better engineer if he wanted to.”
“And I don’t want to.”
They both jumped at the deep rumble of Jun’s voice.
“A better pilot, however”—Jun slowly walked closer—“I could definitely use one of those.” He glared at Axel. “What are you doing?” The expression on Jun’s face sent Axel straight to his feet, chair spinning slowly behind him.
Theo leaned against the dash with a smile. “Axel’s teaching me to fly the ship!”
Axel sputtered, putting distance between Theo and himself with a studied casualness that was anything but. “Not really, Captain. Just keeping him busy, you know, out of trouble and—”
“Look! I’m allowed to press all of these buttons!” Theo crowed with glee, demonstrating the code sequence Axel had taught him.
Jun looked at Axel the way a bored lion might look at a mouse. Not like he was hungry enough to eat it, but like he planned to kill it anyway.
Axel’s arm whirred and clicked through a few attachments, lightning fast. “Would you look at the time? I need to go do a thing real quick. On the other side of the ship, probably. You guys just chill here; I’ll be right back. In the morning. Maybe.”
Jun’s glare followed him until the door hissed shut and left them alone on the bridge.
Theo waited impatiently for Jun’s attention to return to him before toggling one of the switches Axel had assured him was harmless. “See? Another few days under Axel’s tutelage and I’ll be flying the ship!”
Jun stalked over and closed his hand around Theo’s wrist as he reached for another button. “You’re not going to be under Axel’s anything.”
Theo deftly turned his wrist to catch Jun’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and Jun puzzled down at their joined hands like he hadn’t been aware they could do that. “Oh? Is there another position open, then, Captain?”
Narrowing his eyes, Jun yanked his hand away and crossed his arms tightly. “I know what you’re doing.”
Theo stepped closer, allowing a single finger to trace the lines of Jun’s muscular arms with a grin. “Do you? Oh no. I thought I was being so subtle.”
After a glance up at the roving eye of a camera in the corner of the room, Jun stared back at Theo meaningfully. “Keep it off the bridge. No public areas. Understood?”
If anything, Theo only grinned harder, dutifully removing his finger from Jun’s forearm. “You would prefer for me to focus on your private areas, Captain. I understand perfectly.”
Despite Jun’s eyeroll paired with a groan, the corners of his mouth lifted just enough for Theo to suspect him of a smile. A smile was definitely implied. “Where are my translations?”
Theo hummed noncommittally, studying the wall of instruments to the rear of the command center. “I am still in the first phase of my work process.”
The wall was about as hard and unforgiving as Jun’s face. “Procrastination?”
Some of the screens had been left open. Theo couldn’t help reaching out for one, only to have Jun nudge him aside and close it with a harsh swipe. Theo shrugged at the loss and turned to perch on the edge of Axel’s station. “Less procrastination and more intentional distraction to allow my mind time to process without undue stress.”
Jun’s face remained within the realm of a scowl, but he managed to make the scowl appear skeptical. “Distraction is part of your process?”
Jun’s dry tone was unwarranted, in Theo’s estimation, given that he knew nothing about Theo’s work beyond a single barely published academic paper. “Oh yes, always has been. You are certainly not the first to doubt my process. You should see the behavior notes from all of my professors over the years, absolutely abysmal, every one. It was always ‘Theo is a chatterbox, Theo won’t stop daydreaming, Theo is incapable of maintaining his focus, Theo is easily distracted’ and never anything in the least complimentary; whereas, my brother always received a glowing report.”
For which Theo was not in the least resentful, or envious, or anything of the sort. Would it have been nice to have, just once, been the twin most deserving of praise? Of course, but it really wasn’t Ari’s fault he was such a quiet little delight of a mouse. Not any more than it was Theo’s fault he was a chaotic disaster.
Theo in no way resented the fact that Aristotle was a perfect student, and son, and colleague, while Theo had been more often described as “something of a nightmare.” He simply accepted what was, and stomped firmly down on any nagging, negative emotions associated with the comparison.
Theo picked up the tangled bit of wire cast aside on the dash and pulled at it carefully to wind into a coil around his finger, twisting the ends into little loops and lines. He held it up triumphantly after a few moments of concentration. “Ha. Look, Jun, I
