Work Text:
TarikFullInterview.autotrans
[This is an automatically generated transcript.]
Ratthi: I — is this alright? Do you need us to sit differently?
SecUnit: Your current configuration is optimal.
Ratthi: Great. Tarik, I’ve got the questions here. [Pause] I’m sorry you have to — [interrupted]
Tarik: It’s a good idea.
Ratthi: Yes, but — [interrupted]
Tarik: Let’s get on with it.
***
Tarik lowered himself onto his bunk and exhaled slowly. His body needed rest. Needed it badly. Fatigue was dragging at his limbs, scratching at the edges of his thoughts. He had to sleep. The others would notice if he didn’t sleep. Peri would notice if he didn’t sleep. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if he didn’t sleep. He should lie back, close his eyes, and let go.
He didn’t want to do it. He knew exactly what was waiting behind his eyelids. He’d dropped some nice, big rocks into the still pond of his memories and churned up all the mud and bones at the bottom. He would have nightmares when he slept — whenever that was. So he should probably just get it over with. He’d had them before. It wouldn’t kill him to have them again.
I will authorise dispensation of SleepAid if that would assist, Peri said in their private feed.
Yeah, great idea. Because not being able to wake up would be a real bonus.
I would appreciate privacy, Peri.
Acknowledged. Peri sounded sulky. It hated it when Tarik invoked that particular part of their agreement, but its MedSystem had apparently concurred with the psychologist who’d noted on his file: being able to set boundaries is an important signifier for Tarik. Which was a nice way of saying that after ten years of eating, shitting and jerking off on a corporate schedule, being able to tell everyone to fuck off was a useful reminder that nobody owned you. SecUnit would probably understand.
The compromise was that Peri could monitor his baseline medical indicators. Nobody had said it was just in case he got creative with his razor, but. It wasn’t as though he was a likely candidate for a heart attack. For something that hadn’t wanted him on board at all, Peri was oddly occupied with his welfare. Though he was pretty sure that if Peri had to lose a crew member, it would pick him. It was fine. He’d pick himself as well. Almost had, when he’d gotten in between an infected colonist and Iris.
There was a tap on the door, then a ping on his feed. Ratthi. Ratthi didn’t say anything on the feed — Peri must have told him not to — but apparently Peri hadn’t told him not to knock. Typical fucking Peri.
I said I wanted privacy. Peri didn’t reply, because he was an asshole.
Tarik shouldn’t answer. He wasn’t in any condition to have the conversation they needed to have — the one he’d tried to have, both before they left and while they were with the separatists — or any other conversation, really. He’d replayed Ratthi’s soft “ah” in his head over and over again, tugging at the threads of it. What did it mean when the person-you’d-sort-of-had-a-thing-with-before-you’d-fucked-it-up wasn’t surprised that you’d been a member of a corporate death squad?
Probably nothing good.
He pressed the door release button.
***
Ratthi: Can you explain how you became a member of a corporate combat squad?
Tarik: Is someone going to explain what a corporate combat squad is?
Ratthi: Yes, we have extracts from a documentary for that, don’t worry about it.
Tarik: Ok. [Pause] I was sixteen when I was indentured to TourmalineMeridian. I — what?
Ratthi: It might work better if you started at the beginning.
Tarik: That is the beginning.
Ratthi: I mean — where you were born, your family. SecUnit thinks that will help the separatists connect with the story.
Tarik: It’s not a — ok, fine. [Pause] I was born on TellosSeven. It’s a small planet outside the Corporation Rim, but it trades with corporations. For a long time most of the communities were almost entirely self-sufficient. By the time I was born, population growth and environmental degradation meant they had to trade for some commodities. My family ran a small import business and a general store. I had — have — two older siblings and four younger siblings. We lived with my parents and our grandparents. It was — chaotic, and loud all the time, but it was a good life.
***
“Hi,” Ratthi said. He was wearing loose, casual clothes and his hair was damp, a few drying curls falling into his eyes. He looked tired, and a little wary, and like he’d be soft to touch. He was holding — Tarik blinked. It looked like a proper Tellosian tea tray, laid out for the evening. Steam was curling upwards from the spout of a squat ceramic teapot. There were three small, mismatched bowls arranged around it, and an hourglass sitting next to a small pile of wrapped sweets.
“Can I come in before I drop this?”
Tarik nodded — it did look precarious — and the door slid shut behind Ratthi with a pneumatic hiss. Ratthi hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room to set the tray on the small table that folded out from the wall. He paused again, as though waiting for Tarik to say something, then sat down in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I hope this is alright,” Ratthi said, his eyes meeting Tarik’s for a second then flicking away. “I was going to bring you tea. Only, I met some scientists from TellosSeven once, and they used to complain constantly about how appalling the tea was everywhere else, so I made them show me how make it properly — or at least, what they thought was properly, and I wasn’t sure if making it like this would make you feel better or worse but — Peri said I was over-thinking it, so I just brought it. I can take it away. Or I can leave it and take myself away.”
Tarik liked a lot of things about Ratthi, but the way he talked when he was nervous or embarrassed or excited was close to the top of the list: as though the words were jostling and tripping to get out of his mouth; like he needed you to know what he was thinking so badly that he couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
Tarik’s first thought about Ratthi had been that’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Ratthi had run forward to grab his arm as he’d staggered out of the shuttle. He’d opened his mouth to say thankyou, but his internal injuries had chosen that moment to really assert themselves, and he’d retched blood and bile all over Ratthi’s front. Ratthi hadn’t even broken stride, had just called to Peri to send a gurney and kept his arm round Tarik’s waist. Tarik had wanted to say thankyou for that as well, but he’d decided it was probably wiser to keep his mouth shut. Then he’d passed out.
The next few hours were a little hazy — he’d been in and out of consciousness, aware that he was back on Perihelion but not much else. Ratthi had come to talk to him during the lucid period when he’d been lying still and waiting for the MedSystem to finish with his injuries, bored out of his mind. Tarik had asked did you need me for something? and Ratthi had said, I just thought you might like some company down here, and then he’d talked at a mile a minute about alien remnants, all eager gestures and intent dark eyes, while Tarik’s stomach and intestines slowly repaired themselves.
“Do you want me to take it away?” Ratthi asked again, and Tarik realised he’d been staring at the tray, not saying anything. He wanted to say take it away and don’t take it away and thankyou and where did you even find a teapot?
“But you’re angry with me,” he said, instead.
Ratthi looked down at the tray. “Not really. Not anymore.”
“Because you feel sorry for me?” This was exactly why he didn't tell people about his past. People — at least people like Ratthi, kind people — heard about it and felt sorry for him. He didn’t want people to feel sorry for him. He was alive, and free. People should feel sorry for all the people he’d killed (well, maybe not all, some of them had been pretty shitty people), and for all the doomed bastards who had to keep killing people on company time until they fucked up and got killed instead. Not for him. He was (at least comparatively) fine.
“No,” Ratthi said. “Because I didn’t really listen to you when you tried to explain, and I should have.”
They’d kept talking, after that first day in the medical bay. Ratthi was a good listener as well as a good talker, and they were interested in a lot of the same things. Of course, Tarik hadn’t mentioned why he knew so much about the political history, current affairs, pre-CR civilisations and urban topography of various stations and planets, but they’d talked while the minutes slipped past unnoticed. Sometimes he’d made Ratthi laugh.
It had felt — it had started to feel like the beginning of something; sitting up reading next to Ratthi while Ratthi worked on survey reports; the sort of light, incidental touches that could have meant nothing but probably meant more; Ratthi’s eyes on his mouth when they were talking. Ratthi, finally, asking are you seeing anyone? in a way that meant I hope you’re not, and the smile in his eyes when Tarik had said no. They hadn’t done anything about it, not right away, not with everything else going on, but the air between them had turned syrupy and charged.
And then it had all gone to shit.
Tarik couldn’t even really blame Matteo. Matteo had just done exactly what they would have done on any other day; walked behind Tarik’s chair and trailed their fingers over the nape of Tarik’s neck; said I’m turning in and quirked an eyebrow in an obvious invitation. An invitation Tarik would have cheerfully accepted a week beforehand. It wasn’t as if the rest of Peri’s crew hadn’t known what was going on.
Ratthi’s intake of breath had felt like a slap, all the laughter and sweetness in his face melting away. There’d been a flash of hurt, and something had slammed shut behind his eyes. He’d said don’t let me keep you, and then he’d been gone.
Fuck, Matteo said. Sorry, I didn’t —
It’s fine, Tarik told them.
It hadn’t been fine.
Matteo had offered to talk to Ratthi (thanks, no thanks). Peri had said, Ratthi may have past experiences with infidelity which are affecting his reaction (Tarik had worked that out for himself, thanks). Tarik had tried to talk to Ratthi (twice), and Ratthi had made it clear that actually they weren’t going to be doing that, at least not right then. And because Tarik wasn’t an asshole, at least not like that, he didn’t push it. He accepted being dropped right back into “professional/friendly” territory, and hung on to the moments when Ratthi forgot, in his enthusiasm for something, that he was pissed off. It happened sometimes; usually when there was a particularly interesting indicator of pre-CR civilisation.
He always remembered, though. And everyone else knew exactly what had happened, because of course they did, and apparently he looked like such a sad, pathetic piece of shit that nobody could even bring themselves to tease him about it.
***
Tarik: A corporation purchased mining rights upstream from the town we lived in. They diverted several of the watercourses that supplied the nearby towns. My parents contracted with TourmalineMeridian to supply water. They — well, it’s complicated, but they weren’t able to make the repayments under the contract. TourmalineMeridian invoked its right to indentured labour as a consequence of the delayed repayments. I was — I was best placed to go.
Ratthi: Did you or your family know you’d be serving in a combat squad?
Tarik: No. [Pause] My family are part of a [no precise translation available: closest comparable word is “sect”] that practices strict pacifism. They wouldn’t — [Pause] Well, maybe they wouldn’t have had much of a choice one way or another. But I didn’t know, and they didn’t know.
***
Tarik watched as the last grains of sand trickled to the base of the hourglass. He’d always liked that part, even before he’d acquired the taste for tea. He’d sat on the hearth, ready to shout go once the sand had settled at the bottom.
Ratthi was watching it too. Tarik was very aware of Ratthi’s thigh, a handspan from his own. He’d never been so conscious of someone sitting close to him; or maybe he had been once, sweaty-palmed in a classroom next to a teenage crush. One of the memories relegated to the hazy before.
“I’ll pour?” Ratthi offered.
“Thanks.”
Ratthi picked up the teapot and poured for both of them, then offered Tarik the bowl of honey, his movements practiced and precise. Tarik put a spoonful of honey into Ratthi’s cup, then his own, then repeated the process with the cinnamon and the milk. Not fresh milk, of course, and the honey wasn’t real, but when he took a sip the flavours burst on his tongue, sweet and warm. It tasted — good, though he couldn’t really remember how it was supposed to taste, and somehow that was what had heat building behind his eyes.
“Is it ok?” Ratthi asked, setting his cup aside. Like maybe Tarik was almost crying because the tea was bad.
“I don’t remember how it’s supposed to taste.”
“I’m sorry.” Ratthi’s fingers twitched, like he’d been going to reach out and then thought better of it. “It was probably a bad idea. Bringing it, I mean. And I can go, if you’d prefer to be alone.” He shifted, as though to get up.
“No.” Now it was Tarik’s turn to reach for him, then let his hand fall. “I mean, I wouldn’t prefer it. If you don’t mind staying.” He took another sip. “I like the tea. I just — well, you were there. You know.”
Ratthi settled back into the seat. He looked tired, the hollows under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “I keep wanting to ask ‘are you alright’, but then I realise it’s a stupid question, because I know you’re not, and it seems like a dick move to make you say it out loud.” Ratthi was toying with the zipper on his jacket, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. “Unless it would help to say it out loud?”
“It wouldn’t.”
***
Ratthi: Were TourmalineMeridian aware of your religious beliefs?
Tarik: Yes.
Ratthi: But they assigned you to a combat squad anyway?
Tarik: The terms of the contract required me to engage in the activity stream assessed as optimal on the basis of my aptitude testing. If I had refused, TourmalineMeridian would have been able to indenture another one of my siblings.
Ratthi: So your assessment showed that your aptitude was for combat?
Tarik: Ironic, isn’t it?
Ratthi: That wasn’t the word I was thinking of.
***
“You weren’t surprised.” Tarik regretted breaking the comfortable silence the moment he said it. He hadn’t been able to decide whether it was better to know or not know, but as soon as he asked he decided that not knowing was preferable. Too late, of course. “I mean, when Iris told you about my history.”
Ratthi tilted his head. “I guess not.”
“Oh.” This time, he didn’t find the silence very comfortable.
Ratthi’s eyes widened. “I just meant — it made sense, when I thought about it. You don’t really talk about your past, or your family, and the explanation of your security credentials on your file is — brief. So I was surprised, but it fit, so I wasn’t anymore.”
“You’ve seen my file?” He probably should have felt something about that, but he was fresh out of feelings.
Ratthi shifted. “Peri shared information about each of its crew members with SecUnit. The information about you was pretty sparse.”
“You didn’t ask about it.” It was stupid to be bothered by that. He hadn’t wanted Ratthi to know, so why would he be bothered that Ratthi hadn’t asked?
Ratthi shrugged. “Peri trusts you, and SecUnit trusts Peri. It wasn’t any of my business. Though it might have — ” he stopped, looking a bit guilty.
“Explained why I’m not very good at — ?” Tarik waved a hand between them.
Ratthi looked away, then glanced back at him. “You were good at it,” he said, quietly.
Until you fucked it up, Tarik added to himself. He took another sip of tea. “This isn’t what I imagined when I thought about you in my bed,” he said, before he could convince himself to keep his mouth shut.
Ratthi laughed, and almost sloshed tea into his lap. “Me neither.”
***
Ratthi: Can you describe what it was like to be a squad member?
Tarik: It’s very — structured. You live in barracks with other squad members, and you have daily schedules and mission schedules sent to your feed. Every part of the day is controlled by the corporation who owns the rights to your labour. You get sent out on assignment once or twice a week, and the assignment could be anything — protection, asset retrieval, security —
Ratthi: Assassination?
Tarik: They didn’t call it that. But yes. And all of those other things — they might involve killing people. Mainly people in other combat squads. [Pause] Not always, though.
***
“Should we — talk?” Tarik asked. Third time lucky and all that. If Ratthi shut him down again he was going to leave it. But Ratthi had said not now, instead of no, and here they were — no mortal peril, no witnesses, nowhere to be. Even SecUnit probably wasn't listening in.
Ratthi uncrossed and recrossed his legs, his eyes on Tarik’s face. “We can if you want to, but we don’t have to. I didn’t come here for that.”
“I know, but — you’re here, and I’m here, and — ” Tarik tried not to fidget. He was not a person who fidgeted. He had endured much more stressful things than this without fidgeting.
“I’ve seen you look more relaxed going into situations where you thought something might try to eat us,” Ratthi said, setting his cup back on the tray. He sounded amused. Tarik chose to take that as a good sign.
“I have a lot of training specific to that scenario.”
“But not to apologising?”
He looked into his cup. That seemed safest. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?” The edge was back in Ratthi’s voice.
So yes, he supposed he was apologising. “I’m — I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Matteo when you asked whether I was seeing anyone.”
“I accept your apology,” Ratthi said, reaching for one of the sweets. On TellosSeven they’d be candied olives. Tarik wondered whether Ratthi would like those. “Why didn’t you?”
Tarik almost said I’ve told you that (twice), but that seemed like a good way to set himself up for needing to apologise again. And even if he didn’t accept that Ratthi was completely in the right, he wasn’t quite stubborn enough not to understand why Ratthi felt the way he felt. He just wasn’t sure he could articulate it in a way Ratthi would understand.
No, that was wrong. He wasn’t sure he could articulate it in a way Ratthi would understand without metaphorically rolling over to show his soft, vulnerable underbelly.
Ratthi unwrapped the chocolate and examined it (a wise step, Seth had some really weird ones), then popped it into his mouth.
Tarik counted to three, then took the plunge. “I didn’t tell you because it just didn’t — I didn’t think of it in that way. I know you think it’s obvious that I should have, but it wasn’t obvious to me. If you’d said are you sleeping with anyone at the moment? I would have told you, but you asked whether I was seeing anyone, and I told you — I thought I was telling you — the truth. I’m really not seeing them.”
Ratthi made a noise that Tarik chose to interpret as a comment rather than a question. “Matteo has a primary partner and two secondary partners on Mihira and New Tideland, and the relationships are open while they're away. They're a good friend, but we’ve both been clear that anything sexual between us is purely physical. Like — like a good sparring session, you know?”
Ratthi’s eyebrows shot up. “I absolutely don’t.”
“Uh.” Tarik hadn’t anticipated having to explain the analogy. “I mean, fun, physically satisfying, an — efficient way to burn off some steam. That’s all.” He had the sense he was digging, but wasn’t sure whether he was shoveling himself out or deeper. “I like Matteo.” He managed to meet Ratthi’s eyes. “But I don’t want to hear their thoughts about megafauna or weird invertebrates.”
That made Ratthi's mouth twitch. “You weren’t that keen on hearing my thoughts about those parasitic invertebrates from StraxaThreshold.”
“Those thoughts were objectively very disturbing.”
***
Ratthi: Were you friendly with other members of your squad?
Tarik: [Pause] Friendships were — discouraged. There were regular personnel rotations. It was unusual to spend a significant period of time in a squad with the same people, although it could happen if a squad worked particularly effectively as a unit.
Ratthi: That sounds very lonely. [Pause] Did you want to say anything?
Tarik: I didn’t realise that was a question.
***
Ratthi was watching Tarik with the expression Tarik knew meant that he wanted to ask something and was holding back. He was also shredding one of the chocolate wrappers into strips, so it probably wasn’t going to be a question Tarik wanted to answer. Tarik had learned from experience, though, that Ratthi couldn’t keep a question contained for more than about thirty seconds, so he drank his tea and waited for the inevitable.
It took twenty-seven seconds for Ratthi to cave. “So since you — escaped,” he said, “have you, uh, been with anyone other than Matteo?”
“No.” Tarik didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was probably the type of conversation you were supposed to have with someone you were interested in, at least if you were interested in more than sex. He was interested in more than sex with Ratthi, even if the idea made him feel a bit clammy. And some hopeful, dimwit part of him thought that Ratthi wouldn’t be asking unless he wanted that as well.
“And before — ”
“Nobody consistently.” Which didn’t sound great, when he put it like that. “I mean, I said that we weren’t supposed to have friendships or relationships.” Friendships or relationships made you less likely to follow orders like “commence extraction” when you were four team members down but it was cheaper to replace them than rescue them. Not that he was speaking from experience. “Our managers turned a blind eye to sex, though, if it was casual, so we had a system for indicating, um, availability and preferences.”
“Oh.” Tarik couldn’t read Ratthi’s face. It was unsettling. “So you’ve never — dated? Or been in a relationship?”
“No.”
Ratthi started tying the strips of wrapper into knots. “And you thought we were — ?”
Tarik took a deep breath and told himself, firmly, that it would only take a few more (probably excruciating) sentences to get to some sort of resolution. He could do it. He’d done worse things. “I don’t know. I just — I like you. I like spending time with you. I wanted to see what happened, even if I didn’t really know what I was doing.”
“I like you too,” Ratthi said, finally depositing the pile of shredded paper back onto the tray. He met Tarik’s eyes, and it definitely didn’t give Tarik anything that could be described as butterflies. That was just the tea on an empty stomach.
He took a chocolate.
***
Ratthi: How many — actually, I don’t need to use the next couple of questions.
Tarik: Just ask the question.
Ratthi: It’s not —
Tarik: SecUnit put it in there for a reason. So ask it.
Ratthi: I don’t —
Tarik: I did it. I can talk about it. The whole point of this is for me to talk about it.
Ratthi: Fine. Do you know how many people you killed?
Tarik: Legally, TourmalineMeridian killed them. But yes, I do. The number of kills — both targets and collateral damage - is an important part of the assessment metric used to determine the efficiency of squad members.
Ratthi: How does that assessment work?
Tarik: It produces a ranking, which affects squad assignment and deployment.
Ratthi: [Pause] How many people did you kill?
***
Tarik poured the second round of tea and they finished the pot in silence. A peaceful, contemplative kind of silence. Tarik tried not to watch Ratthi too obviously, aware that he was making a bad job of it. It was impossible not to watch when Ratthi was right there, one corner of his mouth quirking into a smile, his long fingers curled around the cup.
“I should go, I’ve got samples to catalogue,” Ratthi said, setting his cup back on the tray.
Tarik tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. He didn’t know what he’d expected. “Thankyou for the tea.” He shifted forward and leaned in, giving Ratthi time to pull away, then brushed their lips together.
He’d meant it to be chaste; barely a kiss at all, just a thankyou. But Ratthi’s lips parted under his and he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the heat of Ratthi’s mouth, one hand going to Ratthi’s shoulder. Ratthi sighed, shifted closer, and then they were kissing properly, gently, Ratthi’s hands on his face, cradling his jaw and tilting his head just so.
Tarik’s experience with kissing had begun at fourteen — he’d embraced it enthusiastically and vigorously for eighteen months with anyone willing to kiss back — and then there had been a long and involuntary kissing hiatus. He’d kissed Matteo, but mainly as something to do while they got into it and got their clothes off. Nice enough, nothing special.
This wasn’t anything like that. Ratthi kissed like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to be doing, and Tarik felt like he was melting into it, holding on to Ratthi’s shoulders, trying to pull Ratthi closer. Ratthi went with it and had to grab the edge of the bed to keep from falling off the chair. Tarik tugged him up and Ratthi ended up in Tarik’s lap, his knees on either side of Tarik’s thighs, hands on Tarik’s face like he was learning the lines of it with his fingers. Then they were kissing again, hot and wet and perfect, Ratthi’s tongue in his mouth, Ratthi’s hands in his hair. Ratthi shifted in his lap and Tarik groaned, feeling the press of Ratthi’s hardening dick against his stomach. One of his hands was on Ratthi’s ass, trying to get him closer, and Ratthi made a soft, desperate little sound into Tarik’s mouth. Tarik wanted to hear it over and over again.
Ratthi broke the kiss and sat back a little, one hand still curved around the nape of Tarik’s neck. They were both panting, Ratthi’s eyes blown dark, his hair tousled from Tarik’s fingers. He was gorgeous. Tarik leaned in again, but this time Ratthi tipped his head and pulled back, just enough that Tarik stopped.
“I don’t think we should do this now,” Ratthi said against Tarik’s mouth, so close that Tarik felt the brush of his lips with each word. “We should stop.”
That was — the exact opposite of what they should do. Tarik tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “What?”
Ratthi shifted back further. “You’re exhausted, and with everything that’s happened — it’s not a good idea.”
This was probably all very considerate of Ratthi. It was also extremely annoying. “If we have to wait for a time when there hasn’t been a disaster we’ll be waiting forever.”
“It's not that there was a disaster, it’s — you had to talk about some pretty traumatic stuff. It would be understandable if you weren’t in the best place right now.”
“I had to live some pretty traumatic stuff,” he pointed out. “Talking about it wasn’t harder than living it. It’s in the past.”
“We both know it’s not that easy.”
Tarik swallowed. “I — it feels good,” he said, and hated how vulnerable he sounded. “Being here, with you — something new.”
Ratthi frowned. “I don’t want this to be because you want distraction. That’s not fair.”
“You’re not being fair,” Tarik snapped. He couldn’t shove Ratthi out of his lap without Ratthi ending up on his ass, so there they were, staring into one another’s faces, stuck in a parody of intimacy. He tried to keep his voice even. Failed. “Why is it so hard to believe that I want this because it’s you? Yes, I hate talking about my past, and yes, I’ll probably never really work through it, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to patronise me or assume you know what I want or need better than I do. If you don’t want me, you can tell me, but stop treating me like I’m — like I’m broken and just haven’t realised it.”
They sat frozen, staring at one another, and it was so incredibly awkward that Tarik was worried he might start to laugh. He didn’t regret saying it, but he did regret saying it before he’d put Ratthi at a sensible distance.
“You’re right,” Ratthi said, after what felt like aeons. “I’m sorry.”
“Thankyou.” Tarik wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. It wasn’t like they could just go back to kissing. Or at least, he wasn’t going to suggest it, not with Ratthi still looking at him with a mixture of guilt and surprise.
“This is very awkward,” Ratthi said, finally. “I definitely should have gotten out of your lap earlier.” Then he was laughing, his head falling forward onto Tarik’s shoulder, and Tarik was laughing as well, gasping for air, and it was the easiest thing in the world to put a finger under Ratthi’s chin and tilt his head up for another kiss.
***
Ratthi: How do you leave a combat squad?
Tarik: You don’t.
Ratthi: But the contract period isn’t perpetual, right?
Tarik: Not technically, no. But under the contract you get charged for food, board, weapons, medical treatment — and all of that adds time to the labour term. Maybe some people manage to get ahead and stay there, but I don’t know anyone who did.
Ratthi: So how do you bring the term to an end?
Tarik: You die.
***
They were tangled together on the bed, kissing again, but there was nothing gentle about it this time; Ratthi’s mouth hot and insistent against Tarik’s; Tarik’s hands in Ratthi’s hair, holding him close; Ratthi’s dick a hard line against Tarik’s stomach. Ratthi couldn’t stop talking — of course he couldn’t — but Tarik wasn’t really listening, because how could he listen when Ratthi’s hands were all over him, Ratthi’s breath against the shell of his ear, Ratthi kissing him and then dipping his head to nuzzle his neck. Tarik found the waistband of Ratthi’s loose trousers and slipped his fingers underneath, but Ratthi grabbed his wrist.
“What’s the hurry?” Ratthi drew Tarik’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, then the inside of his wrist. Tarik shivered. He hadn’t known how good that would feel. Why hadn’t he known? Ratthi did it again, grazing his teeth over Tarik’s pulse point. “You got somewhere to be?”
“Uh.” Sex was, in his experience, efficiency oriented. And maybe Ratthi had worked that out, because he didn’t press for an answer, just brushed his tongue over the inside of Tarik’s wrist again, then leaned in to kiss along Tarik’s jaw, then his throat. Tarik tangled his fingers in Ratthi’s hair and tugged a little — not enough to hurt — and Ratthi made a pleased sound, pressing closer.
Ratthi tugged at the hem of Tarik’s shirt and Tarik sat back to pull it off and toss it aside. He saw Ratthi’s eyes snag on the mess of scar tissue above his hip. There was only so much a MedSystem could do. He’d never been particularly bothered by the scarring — it was either scarred or dead, and he’d take scarred (most days, at least) — but it wasn’t his most attractive feature.
Ratthi reached out, his fingers hovering just above the puckered skin. “Can I—?”
“Yes.” Tarik watched as Ratthi’s fingertips mapped the starburst of raised lines. Ratthi pushed Tarik sideways and down onto the bed, then bent his head to follow his fingers with his mouth. It was odd, knowing Ratthi was touching him but being unable to feel anything except the faintest ghost of sensation.
Ratthi glanced up at him, one thumb tracing the edge of the scarring. “Does it bother you?”
“I can’t feel it.” He wriggled, Ratthi’s mouth sliding down over his hipbone. “A little lower and to the right and maybe I’ll feel that.”
Ratthi’s laugh was a hot puff of breath against his skin. “Be patient.”
“Take off your clothes,” Tarik countered.
“Sure.” Ratthi didn’t make a show of it — shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head, then shoved his pants down and kicked them aside. Tarik wanted to keep the picture in his mind forever; the way Ratthi glanced away, a little abashed, when he realised Tarik was staring. The wiry muscle in his arms and legs. The dark hair on his chest. The outline of his cock, hard against the fabric of his underwear.
“Come here,” Tarik said, and Ratthi was in his arms again, nudging him backwards, one knee between his thighs. Tarik went with it, pulling Ratthi down against him, moaning into Ratthi’s mouth when the movement pressed Ratthi’s dick against his own. He wanted to say you’re beautiful. Tried to say it with his fingers, touching Ratthi everywhere he could; his cheek, the graceful curve of his throat, the warm valley of his spine, the softness of his belly.
***
Ratthi: You’re not dead though.
Tarik: My squad was sent to assert TourmalineMeridian’s rights to raw minerals on a re-discovered planet. A number of other corporations had sent squads, and the University of Mihira and New Tideland had a research vessel present. Negotiations were ongoing between the University, TourmalineMeridian and RisenPhoenix. The situation deteriorated and violence broke out between my squad and RisenPhoenix. The other members of my squad were killed. [Pause]
Ratthi: Do you need a minute?
Tarik: No.
Ratthi: You can —
Tarik: It’s fine. [Pause] I was seriously injured. One of RisenPhoenix squad members was ordered to fire on a civilian researcher. I tried — I mean, I wanted — [Pause] I positioned myself between the researcher and the incoming fire. I was hit. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I’m aware that a third party intervened and the RisenPhoenix squad stood down.
Ratthi: What do you next remember?
Tarik: I woke up on Perihelion. Pe — someone had been able to hack my feed and trigger the protocol that would indicate to TourmalineMeridian that I was dead. As far as TourmalineMeridian were concerned, the contract in relation to my labour was terminated.
***
“You feel so good,” Ratthi said, breath hot against Tarik’s throat. “So fucking good.” He nipped gently under Tarik’s ear. “I knew you would. Wanted this so much.”
You feel good too. It should have been easy to say it. This was Ratthi. Ratthi, in his bed, in the first place he’d thought of as home in eleven years, even if it didn’t feel like that today. But he couldn’t find the words, and he was suddenly and horribly conscious of his own silence. Why didn’t he know how to do this?
Ratthi must have felt his tension, because he stilled and raised his head, his fingers gentle against Tarik’s ribs. “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” Tarik said. Ratthi was still looking at him, a little puzzled. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, even as a horrified part of his brain told him to shut the fuck up. “Sorry I — I mean, I’m not very good at talking during — during sex. I could try, if you like.” He would, too. Even if the thought made him want to hurl himself out of an airlock. What did you even say?
The concern vanished from Ratthi’s face, replaced by a kind of warm fondness that also made Tarik want to space himself. Ratthi thumbed one of Tarik’s nipples, which was really very unfair, how was he supposed to have a conversation when Ratthi was doing that?
“Do you want to? Talk, I mean.” Ratthi asked, punctuating the question with a press of his lips to Tarik’s clavicle.
“Not really,” Tarik admitted. Ratthi was smiling up at him, laughter in his eyes, but Tarik didn’t think Ratthi was laughing at him. It was a shared joke, maybe.
“Do you mind if I talk?”
“No.” That didn’t seem like enough. “I like it.” It drives me crazy.
“Lucky, because I’m not very good at shutting up,” Ratthi said. “You’d tell me to stop, though, right? If you wanted too. To stop talking, or to stop everything.”
Tarik couldn’t imagine wanting to, but that was definitely not the right answer. “Yes.”
“Then we’re good,” Ratthi told him, and he let Tarik pull him up for another kiss.
***
Ratthi: Is there a — a risk that TourmalineMeridian could realise that you’re alive and invoke the indenture?
Tarik: No. TourmalineMeridian went bankrupt and was dissolved. The rights in relation to indentured labour were acquired by a third party who voided the contracts.
Ratthi: So you’re legally free?
Tarik: [Pause] Yes.
Ratthi: What’s that like?
Tarik: Good. Hard, sometimes.
Ratthi: Why?
Tarik: Having choices is hard. It takes a lot of practice.
***
When Tarik had imagined this — which he had, with hopeful and then slightly pathetic frequency — he’d thought about Ratthi under him on this bed, Ratthi’s legs around his waist, the way Ratthi would look tousled and sweaty and begging for it. Now it was Ratthi’s weight solid and warm above him, Ratthi’s leg between his thighs, Ratthi’s mouth taking him apart. Ratthi bit the spot where his neck met his shoulder and Tarik’s hand tightened involuntarily in Ratthi’s hair.
“You like that,” Ratthi murmurred, voice low and satisfied. He sounded very pleased with himself. And it wasn’t a competition, of course it wasn’t (not when he was losing, at least), but —
Tarik hooked an arm over Ratthi’s shoulder and flipped them, making sure he took most of his own weight on his forearms and his knees. Ratthi landed on his back with a startled huff, still smiling, and Tarik found himself smiling back, a little bit of the laugher from before singing between them.
“Competitive,” Ratthi murmurred, not a bit fooled. But he didn’t complain when Tarik kissed a path from his throat to his chest. His skin was warm and salty with sweat, his breath coming fast under Tarik’s mouth. He was still talking, increasingly incoherent as Tarik mouthed along the waistband of his underwear, licked a hot line over one of his hipbones as he traced his fingers up the inside of Ratthi’s thigh. Ratthi jerked under him, groaning, his hands in Tarik’s hair, fingers flexing like he was trying not to push Tarik’s head down.
But that was what Tarik wanted, he realised with a sudden, hot wash of desperation. He wanted Ratthi hot and hard in his mouth, Ratthi’s hands in his hair. He slipped his thumb under the waistband. “Can I?”
“Yes,” Ratthi said, and he groaned when Tarik leaned forward and mouthed his dick through the fabric. Tarik tugged on the waistband and Ratthi lifted his hips and wriggled, nearly kneeing Tarik in the face in his enthusiasm. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, and then he made an incoherent and intensely satisfying sound when Tarik leaned forward to suck a bite-mark onto the inside of his thigh.
Ratthi had a nice dick; thick and curving against his stomach. Tarik spat in his hand — it made Ratthi whimper a bit — and then wrapped a loose fist around it, stroking gently, rolling his thumb over the head. He’d planned to draw it out, make Ratthi ask for it, but in the end he wanted it too badly, slid his mouth down Ratthi’s dick until he choked a little, held himself there until he had to pull back.
Ratthi had cried out when his dick hit the back of Tarik’s throat, his hands flexing in Tarik’s hair, but he still found the presence of mind to say you don’t have to, however you like, except Tarik wanted it like this, wanted it very badly, with Ratthi’s thighs shaking under his fingers. He used his tongue on Ratthi’s balls — Ratthi said a sequence of things in a language Tarik didn’t know — and then took him deep again. He didn’t choke this time, and he could feel Ratthi’s tension under his fingers, feel how hard it was for him not to thrust up.
He pulled back and licked his lips. Ratthi was staring down at him, panting. “You can — you can fuck my mouth,” Tarik told him, then got back to it. Ratthi stayed still for a few agonising seconds, and then rolled his hips up, just a little, testing how much Tarik could take. Tarik groaned his approval and Ratthi did it again.
Tarik could take most of it, as it turned out, making up the rest with a spit-slick hand. His mind was blissfully blank, Ratthi’s cock hard and leaking in his mouth, spit running down his chin. He wanted to do this forever, could ignore the ache in his jaw and his own dick to make Ratthi feel good, to tease out more of those desperate, gasping little noises. He wanted to choke on it, wanted it to hurt, just a little, if the pain made Ratthi tremble with pleasure.
“Stop,” Ratthi gasped, finally. “Stop — I don’t want to come, not yet.”
Tarik stopped, though he wanted to feel Ratthi swell and spill in his mouth. Wanted — wanted a dozen things he’d never really thought about before. Ratthi hauled him up for a kiss, and Tarik went, only a little reluctantly. Ratthi licked into Tarik’s mouth and palmed Tarik’s cock through the fabric of his pants — why the fuck was he still wearing his pants?
***
Ratthi: Why did you choose to take on a role as a mission specialist with the University?
Tarik: I spent three months in a — well, I’m not supposed to call it “deprogramming”, but that’s what it was, really. Trying to work out what I wanted to do. The University would have assisted me in studying but — [Pause] I’d spent ten years developing a set of skills I used to hurt people. I wanted to — use them for something different, I guess. There’s no point pretending they’re not there. They’re part of me.
***
“My turn,” Ratthi said against Tarik’s mouth, and yeah, that was a great idea. Ratthi’s nails grazed the nape of Tarik’s neck and Tarik couldn’t bite back a groan. He hadn’t realised — why did that feel so good? Ratthi did it again, and Tarik couldn’t keep himself from grinding against Ratthi’s thigh.
Ratthi made a pleased sound. “Roll over,” he said, against Tarik’s ear, and Tarik did it, one cheek against the pillow. It meant he couldn’t see what Ratthi was doing, and he didn’t know quite how to feel about that, except that it was making him harder. Ratthi kissed the nape of his neck, then set his teeth there; not a bite, not quite. Tarik choked on a whimper. Ratthi did it again, then a little lower, and Tarik tried to keep still as Ratthi bit and licked a languid path down his spine.
He wasn’t sure how long it went on for — it felt like a two seconds and two years at the same time, felt as though Ratthi was waking up something restless and desperate under his skin. He was trying not to press his hips down against the bed for friction, because it was going to be really humiliating if he came in his pants, but then Ratthi’s mouth was on the small of his back, just above his ass, Ratthi’s hands on the backs of his thighs, and it was too much and not enough at the same time.
“Fuck me.” It sounded like he was begging. He was begging. “Please, Ratthi, I need — I want — ”
“Yes,” Ratthi said, and it was a relief when his voice came out low and rough. He sounded just as wrecked as Tarik felt. He smoothed his a hand over the swell of Tarik’s ass and Tarik rocked back into it. “Where — ”
“First drawer.” Tarik got rid of his pants and his underwear and pushed up onto his elbows and knees while Ratthi rifled through the drawer for the lube. The position felt — odd. Exposed. Then Ratthi was back on the bed with him, warm and reassuring, and he told himself he didn’t need to say anything, that it would be easy when he wanted it this much.
***
Ratthi: Have you made contact with your family since you escaped?
Tarik: I haven’t spoken to my family since I left TellosSeven. [Pause]
Ratthi: I’m sorry.
Tarik: I — [Pause] I went back. Once. [Pause] I wanted to see — I wanted to see what had happened. I’d served long enough that TourmalineMeridian had to pay them damages for my death. It was — it was a lot of currency, for them. They were — they were well.
Ratthi: You didn’t tell them you were alive?
Tarik: No.
Ratthi: Why?
Tarik: Why do you think? [Pause]
Ratthi: [Pause] Surely — they would understand you didn’t have a choice.
Tarik: You’re talking about it like I’m SecUnit. SecUnit didn’t have a choice. I had choices, they were just all bad ones.
***
Tarik couldn’t help tensing when one of Ratthi’s fingers slid inside him — it didn’t hurt, but it felt odd. Not bad, but not precisely good, either, except that it was Ratthi’s breath against his ear, Ratthi’s other hand splayed on the back of his thigh. He exhaled, willed himself to relax and — didn’t.
Ratthi had stilled. “You have —” he started, his voice a little strained. “Have you done this before?”
Tarik thought about lying. He wanted to lie, but then he’d been silent for a beat too long and it was too late. He’d given himself away. “Not like this,” he admitted.
Ratthi sat back, and gently slid his finger out. Tarik shifted onto his side, and sat up to face him. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with his ass in the air. Or at all. But they’d had every other conversation he hadn’t wanted to have, so it made sense they’d have to have this one as well.
Ratthi was looking at him intently, an unhappy line at the corner of his mouth, but he’d put one of his hands on Tarik’s thigh, his thumb absently drawing a pattern on Tarik’s skin. “I could have hurt you. You should have told me.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ratthi’s face did something complicated. “I might have, accidentally. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought — ” he really did regret not saying anything now, because this was much worse. “— I really wanted it. I know how it works. I didn’t want it to be a big deal.” He bit his lip. It was all true, but it wasn’t the real reason. “I don’t like not knowing what to do,” he admitted. “Especially when you — when you clearly do know.”
Sometimes that felt just as bad as the memories of what he had and hadn’t done. The not-knowing. The little slips, when he didn’t react in quite the right way, didn’t know how something was done. On his bad days he thought that was why he’d wanted to be a mission specialist; just to keep one thing that was a little bit familiar.
He felt like they were teetering on the edge of a drop; half expected Ratthi to pull away, to suggest something else, or to call it all off. To leave, because he’d made it clear he wanted honesty, and now he knew that Tarik couldn’t give him that. But he didn’t, just reached out to lace their fingers together.
“Do you still want that?” Ratthi’s voice was gentle, but there was nothing in it to put Tarik’s hackles up again. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Tarik shivered. He made himself hold Ratthi’s gaze. “I want — I want to feel you inside me. Like that.”
“Fuck,” Ratthi said, biting his lip, eyes dark. “Fuck, alright. On your back.” He emphasised the word with a hand on Tarik’s chest, over his heart, and Tarik let himself fall back onto the bed. “Bend your knees up — yeah, like that.” Ratthi’s fingers were sure on Tarik’s calves, then his thighs. “Lift your hips.”
Ratthi grabbed the pillow and slipped it under Tarik’s ass, then slid down the bed. Tarik felt uncomfortably exposed for about three seconds — Ratthi’s face was right there, seeing everything — and then Ratthi’s mouth was on his dick and Ratthi’s slick fingers were stroking down the crease of his ass and he wasn’t thinking about anything at all.
***
Ratthi: Is it difficult for you to talk about this?
Tarik: Yes.
Ratthi: Have you told many people this story?
Tarik: No.
Ratthi: Why have you chosen to tell it now?
Tarik: People deserve to know. To have a real choice. Sometimes knowing doesn’t give you a real choice, anyway, but here — there is one. There should be one.
***
Tarik had known Ratthi was a very thorough person, but there was knowing it and then there was being sprawled on the bed with Ratthi between his legs, his mouth hot and wet on Tarik’s dick and one of his knuckles pressing against the entrance to Tarik’s body. He was keeping the blowjob loose and sloppy, not enough to get Tarik off, but enough to drive him out of his mind.
Ratthi looked up at him, lips swollen, spit all over his chin, and Tarik had to close his eyes for a moment to get himself under control. “Feel good?”
“More, come on, I want more,” Tarik told him, and Ratthi hummed with satisfaction. Tarik tensed again, just a little, when Ratthi’s finger slid into his body, but then Ratthi sucked the head of his dick and curled his finger in a way that made his body light up. Ratthi took his time — took so much fucking time — and by the time he’d worked up to three fingers Tarik was grabbing at anything he could reach — the sheets, Ratthi’s shoulders, the headboard.
“If you keep doing that I’m going to come,” Tarik gasped, when Ratthi swallowed him down and twisted at the same time.
Ratthi raised his head. “I’d like to make you come for me like this,” he said, his fingers still buried in Tarik’s body, and Tarik thought he really did deserve some sort of accolade for the self-control that made him say “not this time,” rather than shoving Ratthi’s head back down.
Ratthi was smirking like he knew just how much of a struggle it had been, but he slid his fingers free and reached for the lube again. “You should ride me,” he said. “It’ll be better, the first time.”
“It’s not my first time,” Tarik grumbled, though his heart wasn’t in it. He tried to bully his limbs to cooperate while Ratthi shuffled back and propped himself against the headboard, watching hungrily as Tarik shifted to straddle him.
Tarik liked having Ratthi sprawled out under him, the way he could see Ratthi’s chest rising and falling, the way Ratthi was biting his lip. He didn’t get it quite right the first time he tried, Ratthi’s dick sliding slick between his legs, both of them gasping. Then Ratthi was saying here, like this, and holding himself steady while Tarik eased himself down, one hand on the wall for balance.
“Go slow,” Ratthi said, on a groan, still so sweet, even with his thighs shaking and his eyes wild. It made Tarik want to tease him, just a little, so he held still, Ratthi’s dick barely inside his body.
“Slow enough?” he asked.
“Whatever you need.” Ratthi sounded like he was dying.
“This is what I need.” Tarik sank down. Too fast, probably, but it was worth it for the sound Ratthi made, choked and desperate, his eyes flickering shut. Tarik took a second, adjusting to the feel of it. It hurt a little, if he was honest, but what was a bit of pain when Ratthi was looking up at him like that, all heat and satisfaction.
It took him a few tries to find a rhythm. Ratthi stayed still and let him do it, his hands on Tarik’s hips, teeth set against his bottom lip.
“Oh,” Tarik gasped, when he got it right, “oh fuck,” and then Ratthi was moving to meet him. It was good, so good, even if his thighs were burning with the effort, and he thought he could come like this, grinding down while Ratthi rose to meet him, except it wasn’t quite what he wanted, wasn’t quite enough. “I need — I can’t —” He couldn’t get the words out. “Need more.”
“Yes.” Ratthi’s voice was ragged, “ok, yes.” He rolled them, tumbling Tarik onto his back, and Tarik gasped at the loss when Ratthi slipped out of him, the emptiness jarring and unwelcome. Then Ratthi’s fingers were inside him again, teasing his rim, and he hooked a leg around Ratthi’s back, his foot thudding against the small of Ratthi’s back, trying to make him get on with it.
Ratthi was laughing when he slid in again and Tarik made a sound that would probably embarrass him later and grabbed at Ratthi’s shoulders, fingers slipping on sweat. Ratthi thrust into him, sure and smooth, and it was good, so good, but still not enough, so Tarik told him so, said I thought you were going to give me more, just to see the way it would make something spark in Ratthi’s eyes.
It was even better, then; Ratthi’s strong body between his thighs, Ratthi’s sweat dripping onto his chest, Ratthi too far gone to be gentle. They were making too much noise, and Tarik wasn’t sure the bed had been designed for anything this forceful, but he didn’t care about the noise, or the bed, or anything in the world except Ratthi, and the way Ratthi felt inside him.
“Touch yourself,” Ratthi told him, and Tarik reached between their bodies to get a hand around his aching dick.
“I won’t last,” he said.
“Good,” Ratthi rasped. “I want to see it.” His eyes were intent, watching Tarik stroke himself, “want to see you come for me.”
Tarik came harder than he could ever remember coming, spilling over his hand and his chest, the pleasure crashing through him in waves. Ratthi shuddered, lost the rhythm and surged forward to crash their mouths together with a kind of desperate intensity. Tarik felt the wet heat inside him and his dick jerked in his fist again as he rode it out, Ratthi silent and shaking above him.
Ratthi slumped forward, boneless, and Tarik could feel the smile pressed against his shoulder. He stroked a hand down Ratthi’s sweaty back, trying to catch his breath. Ratthi sighed and then shifted his head to drag his tongue through the mess on Tarik’s chest. And Tarik definitely couldn’t get it up again — not after coming like that, not when he was already practically unconscious, but his dick was definitely thinking about trying.
***
Tarik realised he’d slipped into a doze when the touch of a damp cloth on his stomach woke him. He blinked his eyes open to see Ratthi standing by the bed and smiling down at him, disheveled and smug. He’d pulled his underwear back on, which was disappointing. Tarik told him so.
“Bend your knees,” Ratthi said, and Tarik did it, even though it felt as intimate as the sex had. More, maybe, because they weren’t both caught up in the heat of it.
“I can do it,” Tarik said, reaching for the cloth. He didn’t need — whatever this was. He could do it himself. Just as soon as he got some feeling back into his extremities.
“Shh,” Ratthi told him. “I’ve got you.”
Tarik thought about arguing, but he didn’t really want to argue, not with Ratthi’s mouth gentle on the inside of his thighs while Ratthi cleaned him up. His body jerked when Ratthi slid two fingers down the crease of his ass, his dick twitching against his thigh, and that made Ratthi smile. Maybe one day Ratthi could slip his fingers back inside, and keep them there until they were both hard again, until Tarik was nothing but heat and need and —
“What are you thinking about?” Ratthi asked.
Tarik told him, because apparently Ratthi had fucked his inhibitions right out of him, and Ratthi’s eyes went hot and dark again. “Mm,” he said, like he was thinking about doing it then and there. Then he smiled, a little wry. “You are definitely too tired for that.”
Tarik narrowed his eyes, just for show.
“I’m not being patronising,” Ratthi protested. “That’s just — evidence based. You fell asleep.” He crossed back to the sink and wrung out the cloth, draping it neatly over the edge of the basin. Tarik expected him to reach for his clothes, but instead he came back to the bed. “Can I stay?”
It would be easy to just say no. Then he wouldn’t need to admit anything; wouldn’t need to explain. But that would be the coward’s way out. “I’m going to have nightmares.” He fixed his eyes on a spot above Ratthi’s head. “I’ll disturb you.”
Ratthi sat down on the edge of the bed. “Will it make it worse if I’m here?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Then I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He hoped Ratthi knew that meant stay, please.
It took them a bit of time to get comfortable; the bed wasn’t really big enough for both of them, but eventually Tarik found himself tucked against Ratthi’s side, his cheek pressed to Ratthi’s pectoral.
“Go to sleep,” Ratthi murmured into his hair. And Tarik did as he was told.