Theo stood frozen in place until his body reminded him of his priorities, and he rushed to follow. Jun led him through a narrow corridor to an open doorway, which he gestured to with a sharp slash of his hand.
“The head’s through there. I’ll wait outside.”
Theo took advantage of the facilities, astonished to find them spotless if a little cramped. He stepped back out under Jun’s watchful glare. The captain had remained standing at attention just where Theo had left him.
Theo’s mother would approve of his posture, if nothing else. He’d wager Jun could sit still and straight-backed in her parlor for absolute ages. Unlike Theo, whose record for sitting still had just been broken by a judicious application of tape.
Jun didn’t move except to point back into the room with his chin.
“What?” Theo asked, glancing over his shoulder in bewilderment. He’d definitely washed his hands and could not imagine what else he might have missed.
Jun repeated the motion with his chin, jaw set. “There’s the bed. It’s late. Go to sleep.”
Theo surveyed the small chamber, almost entirely taken up by a single thin mattress set into a metal platform. This appeared to be the only habitable room besides the cockpit. As far as he could tell, the rest of the ship was composed of storage rooms stuffed to the gills with large metal crates. Which led to a pertinent question.
“Where will you sleep?”
Jun’s gaze slid from Theo down to the bed and back, a frown settling onto his face like it was getting cozy before the fire, comfortable and familiar there. “Doesn’t matter.”
He leaned back against the wall and hit the light panel, sending them into the dark of the night cycle, the cabin now lit only by the soft glow of the emergency lights lining the hallway.
In the deepened shadows, Jun’s cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut oneself on.
Theo would certainly enjoy trying anyway.
A blanket—a soft pile of well-worn material—lay draped across the foot of the bed. Of an indeterminate gray color, and clearly homemade in an uneven open knit, it gave the cold, dark room a softening flair of personalization.
Theo picked it up, rubbed the chunky yarn between his fingers.
It smelled faintly of leather and ozone and clean man. The same fragrance that had burned itself into Theo’s mind when those tattooed fingers had pressed over his mouth.
It smelled like Jun.
Theo stifled the impulse to bury his face in the blanket and roll around on the mattress like a pig in mud. That would likely be frowned upon.
He perched on the edge of the mattress, smoothing the blanket as he swung his feet. “This is your bed, isn’t it?”
Jun shifted against the wall and slid down to sit with one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent at the knee. The light from the hallway caught his face just enough for Theo to know he was being observed.
Curling his legs under himself, Theo leaned on one wrist while he wrapped the other hand around his ankle. Ari would have been horrified to see him put his shoes on the bed. He held back a private grin at the small taste of rebellion. “Not much of a conversationalist, are you? That’s alright; neither is my brother. I’ve learned to adapt so that I can talk enough for the both of us.”
Jun didn’t say anything, but his boot scuffed against the floor. Theo took that as confirmation that he should continue.
“Where are we going? Will we get there by morning? Do you suppose we’ll have time to stop for coffee? Ari likes to fuss about caffeine, but I’ve never noticed much of a difference. It doesn’t seem to have an effect on me, but I like the ritual of it in the mornings. Are you a morning person? I adore a nice crisp sunrise more than anything except perhaps a good book. Do you have any books in your crates? There are so many on your ship. If it were my ship, most of them would have books inside.”
Jun’s head hit the wall behind him with a thunk, eyelids squeezing shut as he pressed one hand to his forehead. “Tell me you do not talk in your sleep.”
Theo considered, stretching his neck as he leaned further back against the bed. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never had complaints from Ari, but then again, he sleeps like a petrified log. I’m not sure he would have noticed even if I managed a song and dance in my sleep.”
Jun’s head raised up at the word “he.” His eyes traced over Theo’s face before turning to stare at the wall, his hand rolled into a fist on top of his bent knee. “Shut your mouth and go to sleep.”
Theo sat up with a thoughtful hum and crossed his legs into a pretzel. “No, thank you. I’m not particularly tired. It has been a rather exciting evening; I am far too wound up for sleep, I’m afraid.”
Jun groaned softly, sending Theo’s brain spiraling straight into the gutter. “Just lie down and be quiet.”
Theo sat quietly for a moment, and then two, and he made it all the way to three before he had to move. He started by humming and ended with clapping his hands against his folded knees and singing a bawdy Verge shanty about a widow and her pair of ducks.
Jun sat up from the wall, jaw tight and shoulders tense. “Stop that.”
Theo sang louder, bouncing against the mattress just a little, in time with the melody, delighting in having gained Jun’s full attention.
Jun pushed to stand with a growl, baring his teeth. Something low in Theo’s belly quivered at the sight. “Stop singing. Go to sleep.”
Theo started the first verse over again gleefully as Jun stomped closer with such single-minded determination that he tripped against the edge of the mattress just as he reached out his hand to cover Theo’s mouth.
They fell together in
