Space for Growth (Spire Station #3)

Chapter 10

10

B y the time we reach Gryxsyx station, I’m itching to get off the ship. It’s not an exciting place to visit, but the odds of your ship getting stripped for parts while you’re docked are lower here than any other station in this sector, so it’ll do.

I’ve spent the last three full cycles with Paul. Showing him around the ship. Working on his self-defense and blaster pistol training. Joining him for meals. Sleeping in the same bed.

The only time I’m not with Paul is when one of us is using the showers, hygiene unit, or talking to my crew. Even when I’m dreaming, it’s of him.

It’s torture.

The human is so… Vash-ka .

I groan at the memory of his messy hair and shy, slightly awkward smile as he sat up and asked me how I slept when we woke up this cycle. I couldn’t keep myself from watching the pull of his muscles in his chest and arms as he stretched and yawned, still half asleep. Because yes, Paul sleeps shirtless.

So do I, but that’s beside the point. He does it on purpose to torture me.

I finish dressing, wishing I had more time so I could deal with the ache between my thighs, but I need to head to the bridge to negotiate our docking fees. If I let Val do it, we’ll end up paying double the going rate.

Once that’s settled, I head to the cargo bay, where Paul is training with Tari, who begrudgingly offered to assist after the whole debacle with Dill. I arrive just in time to see Paul slip from her hold and take her to the padded mat before scurrying away.

“Nice work,” I call out, grinning. He may have thought he was weak and defenseless, but Paul has turned out to be a quick study. He still needs to work on his aim with a blaster, but that’s harder to hone without a proper shooting range.

“We’re docked?” Tari asks as Paul helps her up.

“Yeah, the dock crew is all set to discuss repairs with you when you’re ready.” Tari’s big black eyes sparkle at my words. “ Repairs . Only repairs. No new, untested tech. Nothing experimental,” I add.

She sighs. “Ugh, fine.”

I hate shutting down Tari’s creative spark, but right now is not the time to be wasting credits on non-essentials. Especially if they’re things prone to blow up in our face—literally.

She heads out of the cargo bay, leaving me alone with Paul, who gives me a warm smile. A bead of sweat slowly slides down from his temple to his neck, and I watch it with the absurd desire to go up to him and lick it off.

“Everything go okay?” he asks, shaking me out of my horny reverie.

I clear my throat. “Yep. Got a good deal on repair techs. I’ll need to head out onto the station for most of the cycle, but Val said she’s happy to keep you company. Or you can hang out and watch some holos in the rec room or?—”

“About that…” Paul inhales like he’s steeling himself for a confrontation. “I want to come with you.”

I blink at him in surprise. “What?”

“I’ve been training every cycle for hours. I’m ready.”

“Paul, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

His jaw tenses as he narrows his eyes at me. “You promised I wouldn’t be trapped on the ship.”

“I know that, but…”

Esh’et, what am I supposed to say? I need to get some time away from you to have some meaningless sex and find a way to stop imagining what that short pink tongue of yours would feel like against mine. Or better yet, between my thighs?

“I should’ve known,” Paul mutters, his posture deflating.

I can sense him retreating inside himself, his eyes losing their focus. Vash-ka , I can’t make him stay here after I told him he could explore with me.

“Okay, you can come,” I blurt.

His gaze snaps back to mine. “I can?”

“Yeah,” I say with a weak smile.

My breath gets knocked out of me as Paul practically flings himself at me. “Thank you!” he says, wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace. His heady scent hits me, mixing with the warmth of his body to make my pulse leap.

When I don’t embrace him back, he pulls away and looks up at me, a pink flush peeking out of his beard. “Sorry, I thought seladin hugged. I shouldn’t have…”

“We do! You just, uh, surprised me. Here.” Against my better judgment, I wrap my arms around him and pull him back against my chest.

His soft chuckle reverberates against my chest. “Thanks. Seriously. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I hope he doesn’t notice when I suck in a deep breath, filling my lungs with his scent. Paul always smells extra good when he’s been exercising.

I’m not as subtle in my sniffing as I thought I was, because he steps back out of the hug and grimaces. “Sorry, I’m all gross and sweaty right now. Do I have time for a quick shower?”

He’s not gross. Not in the slightest. I enjoy seeing his light brown skin glistening with sweat, and his eyes sparkling from the exertion. I never noticed just how pretty human eyes were until I got up close with Paul. His are a dark brown, but they’re flecked with specks of green and gold, like thalist, a precious stone back on Sela 2 that people like to wear for good luck. Given everything that’s happened since I met the human, that should be comical, but there’s a small part of me that wonders if maybe having Paul here is a good thing.

Esh’et , stop with that sappy nonsense.

I place my hands on my hips and give him an assessing look, not allowing my eyes to stray past his waist and down to where I know from memory that the borrowed pants hug his thick thighs, ass, and the tempting bulge between his legs. “A shower is a good idea. Don’t want your sweet human scent attracting curious aliens on the station.”

Paul scoffs and shakes his head, some of his thick brown hair falling into his face. “We wouldn’t want that.” He pushes the hair back and smiles at me, a flicker of nerves behind his expression. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Me going with you. I asked Val about our location and we’re even further from Coalition space than Spire is. So odds are none of the aliens on this station have seen a human in the flesh before. I’m going to be a spectacle, and that’s not exactly conducive to whatever business you had planned.”

Fa-shar , that would’ve been a great excuse to give him about not bringing him with me. I was so busy worrying about relieving some tension that I didn’t consider what hauling a human around on this remote station would be like.

Paul sighs. “I’ll stay on the ship.”

I should agree. Tell him I’ll look for something to help disguise him for a future outing. Instead, I find myself blurting, “No!”

“No?” Paul asks, blinking in surprise at my adamance.

Great, now I have to think of a reason I’d want him to come, other than he looked so dejected and I can’t stomach Paul going back to that detached void in his mind.

“You’ll be helpful,” I say quickly.

“I will?” The confused furrow on Paul’s brow deepens.

“Uh, yes. You will. You, uh, you…you’ll be an excellent distraction! Everyone will be too intrigued by you to waste their energy haggling with me. You’ll attract attention, but that will allow the rest of my crew to do what they want. Who cares about a random shikzeth when there’s a human to gawk at?”

“That makes sense. Kind of.” Paul doesn’t sound very convinced, but it’s the best I can think of.

“Grab a shower and meet me at the med bay,” I say, trying to move the conversation away from that topic. I’ll use the time he’s bathing to figure out how in the void I’m going to juggle being Paul’s escort on the station and do everything I need to get done.

He pales. “Why the med bay?”

I let out a soft chuckle at his reaction. Paul’s still been a little jumpy around Bret’u since their first encounter. “Don’t worry, Bret’u isn’t mad at you for attacking zir. Ze will want to give you some boosters before you head out onto the station.”

“I already got them when I moved to Spire,” Paul protests, crossing his arms over his chest.

Is he afraid of hypos? They’re practically painless, but I know some people have a mental block against using them. “Trust me, you don’t want to go to a remote station without making sure you’re fully protected. Last thing you want it to get a case of sprindle lung because some sick fa-shar prick decided they didn’t need to quarantine.”

“But wouldn’t the filters and decontamination sensors eliminate that kind of illness?”

That tears a laugh out of me. “You’re cute if you think a remote station in the ass end of this quadrant has that kind of tech. Get the boosters.”

“Oh.” Paul grimaces in slight horror at the thought of the lack of decontamination tech. “You must think I’m a sheltered, naive fool.” A flush spreads up his neck.

“You’re not a fool, Paul. And there’s nothing wrong with living a life where you don’t need to know about these things.”

“It doesn’t make me seem like a privileged asshole?” he asks, a frown stretching his lips. “I didn’t have to know about these kinds of things because I’ve spent my whole life safe and comfortable. I know not everyone has that choice or opportunity. I just… I don’t know. I guess I bought into the story that the Consortium sold the Coalition. That it takes care of its people, an d its advanced tech and resources allow people to live without hardship or suffering.”

He’s looking at me like he expects me to mock or chastise him for being optimistic and naive. But I’d be a hypocrite if I did that. Paul’s discomfort grappling with the realities of the galaxy reminds me of when I took my Y’thir designation and left Sela 2. The difference between us is that I chose to break out of the bubble of comfort on my own, and he didn’t. But that doesn’t make either of us better.

“It’s not a lie,” I say softly. “The Consortium works tirelessly to provide for its people and, as a whole, has made life here as close to that dream of safety and harmony as you can get. But no government or organization, no matter how many resources or good intentions they’re armed with, can help everyone. The species of the Consortium all have different cultures, moral codes, and needs. And let’s face it, some people don’t care about others. There will always be places that the Consortium’s efforts don’t reach, and people who don’t want its help, for a multitude of reasons. It doesn’t make you a bad person for not considering that until now.”

“I… what about you? Where do you fall in that?”

Paul’s question surprises me, but it shouldn’t. It’s something I ask myself all the time.

“It’s complicated. Way too long a conversation to have right now.”

“Oh, alright.” Paul’s curious expression shuts off.

“I didn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you about it at all. I’m happy to answer your questions.”

It’s something I’d say glibly to someone I’d just met, knowing full well that we’d sleep together and then never see each other again. Most people pretend like they want to know about me, but they stop caring once we’ve gotten into bed together. No one really cares why I do what I do. They like the novelty of being with a pirate. Once they realize I’m a person with complex emotions and needs, they move on to the next shiny thing.

The trouble is, I think Paul genuinely wants to know my answer. I’ve gotten so used to not telling people anything meaningful about myself that I have no idea how to handle that. I can only hope that by the time we’re done with my tasks on the station, he’ll be too exhausted and overwhelmed to remember what he asked me.

“You’ll probably regret saying that,” Paul says with a laugh. “I have a lot of questions.”

“I’m an open book for anyone willing to take the time to read it,” I say, internally cursing at myself for not laughing along and moving the conversation to something else. “But maybe buy me a drink before you delve inside me,” I add with a wink.

Paul chuckles at my weak innuendo. “Noted. If I survive tagging along with you, we’ll get drinks after and talk.”

“Deal.” I reach my hand out to shake it like he taught me. He looks at it in confusion for a moment, before a wide grin stretches across his face and he clasps it in his.

A jolt of his nervous excitement hits me, racing up my arm and into my chest. A hint of how he’s feeling right now.

“You’re very brave. You know that, right?” My hand lingers in his, though the “handshake” should have concluded by now.

“What? No, I’m not,” he sputters, looking away. “I’m scared shitless right now and we haven’t even left the ship.”

“Being terrified and doing something anyway is a pretty good definition of bravery, silly human,” I say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Speaking of which, let’s go see Bret’u before ze leaves the ship.”

“I’m not scared of Bret’u,” Paul protests. He pauses for a moment, as if he’s struggling whether or not to explain his hesitation. “ I’m not a big fan of med bays,” he eventually adds with a heavy exhale.

“Oh! I’ll comm Bret’u while you’re in the showers and have zir meet us in the mess with the boosters.”

Paul flushes and shakes his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll deal with it. I know I’m being ridiculous.”

It breaks my heart a little to hear him say that. Out of all the people I’ve met, Paul seems to be one of the most self-critical I’ve encountered.

“Stop. You’re not ridiculous. A fear of med bays is a lot more rational than my fear of skralls.” I suppress a shudder at even the thought of those creepy, awful insects. Fortunately, a medical phobia isn’t something any of my crew would be cruel enough to tease someone about, so Bret’u knowing about Paul’s discomfort won’t be an issue at all. Unlike me and skralls.

“It’s a simple accommodation to make, and if it makes you less stressed, then why in the void wouldn’t we do it?” Paul looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no. God, it’s… when you say it like that, it sounds so simple. Most people don’t think that way.”

“It is simple,” I say, brow furrowing. “What kind of people are you spending time with that wouldn’t want to help you feel comfortable?”

Paul huffs out a humorless laugh. “That’s too complicated to explain right now.”

“Hah, alright. We’ll talk about it later when we get those drinks.”

I escort Paul to the showers, staying posted outside in the hall. The last thing I need is for someone to go in and pester Paul about his human anatomy before he braves the station.

I pass the time by shooting off a quick comm to Bret’u, who is happy to give Paul what he needs wherever we want. Then, I ask Rema if she can take care of a few tasks from my list that will be harder to do with a human in tow. She teases me a bit, acting shocked that I’m asking her a favor and trusting her to help, but readily agrees to do whatever I need.

I’m not really that bad at delegating, am I? Yes, I like to be in control of things when possible, but I let people help. There’s an unpleasant clenching in my gut when I try to think of the last time I did that, but I don’t have time to examine it because Yaz is up from his regeneration cycle and checking in to get an update on things.

When he asks if I need assistance with anything, I go to brush the offer off, but pause. There is something he can do. I fill him in on my plans with Paul for the cycle, then make my request. Even after years of working together, it feels uncomfortable to ask him for a favor, but I suck it up.

See, I ask for help. I can trust people.

The knot in my stomach twists more, this time with guilt, when Paul emerges from the showers, clean and dressed and looking at me with trepidatious excitement.

I can trust people, but I’m not a fool. Trust is earned, and it’s always good to be prepared in case someone breaks it.