Space for Growth (Spire Station #3)

Chapter 13

13

I t’s approaching the night cycle by the time my new clothing is finished. I swear the tailor, Xalit, looked like he was going to pass out from excitement as he took my measurements and detailed the designs he wanted to make for me. Hadrell had to talk him down from creating a suit covered in elaborate fringe and beading, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Instead, I’m leaving with multiple pairs of well-tailored pants and shirts, as well as a deep purple jacket which is a little flashy for my taste, but I wasn’t about to argue when the poor aespian only charged us for the cost of materials.

I’d feel bad for taking advantage of him, but he looked ecstatic as I got changed into the new clothing, and thanked me profusely for the honor. Hadrell had to pry me away, threatening to tear off my pretty new jacket in a fit of possessive jealousy, which horrified the aespian enough that he let me go.

I’m glad for the length and cut of the jacket, because it hides how my cock swells at the thought of Hadrell ravishing me.

God, I know they’re teasing me, but my dick doesn’t understand that. It’s been ages since I’ve been with anyone, or even jerked off, and my cock is raring to go at the slightest provocation.

Hadrell steers me back toward the ship, and thankfully the crowd in the main hall has thinned out to a more manageable number. We’re halfway across the sea of vendors when I catch sight of a sign and freeze.

Hadrell turns around to look at me, squeezing my hand clasped in his. “Almost there. You’re doing so well.”

“It’s not that…” I can’t believe I’m considering staying on this station longer than necessary, but the new clothes and surviving the cycle without freaking out again is going to my head. I decide to embrace delusion and point to the shimmering sign above what my translator says is a bar. “We haven’t gotten drinks yet.”

Hadrell’s saelit on his brow draw together. “Paul, we don’t have to. You’ve already done so much this cycle.”

With unearned confidence, I narrow my eyes at him, even as my breathing speeds up as a group of nexxit shoves past us. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. You promised we’d talk.”

Most people would argue more, but Hadrell’s lips quirk in amusement. “You got me. Alright, let’s see what they have on offer. If you don’t like anything there, we can raid Rema’s quarters. She always has at least a few decent bottles of wine.”

My chest squeezes, appreciation for them swelling inside me. I don’t know if they realize how good it feels to be given an out if I change my mind, without needing to explicitly tell Hadrell I’m too overwhelmed. I can pretend it’s my taste, not my anxiety, that drives the decision.

“Good plan,” I say, swallowing down the lump of emotion that’s suddenly clogging my throat.

He guides me to the bar, and I will myself to stay calm as best I can. By the time we step up to the crowded counter, I’m shaking a little, but for better or worse, I’m still present in my body. Hadrell releases my hand, only to wrap his arm behind my back, and I’m thankful the loud conversations echoing through the space hide the way my breath hitches.

“See anything you like?” Hadrell murmurs, bending over to speak into my ear. From an outside perspective, I imagine it looks like they’re whispering something seductive or scandalous by how much it makes my face flame.

I suck in a shaky breath and try to scan the shelves of liquor behind the shikzeth tending bar, but I can’t get myself to focus enough to read what’s there. Not when Hadrell is rubbing gentle circles on my lower back, his claws occasionally brushing the waistband of my pants.

“Uhhh.” I turn over my shoulder to blink up at him helplessly.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. “We’ve got all night cycle.”

Fuck me, now all I can think about is what exactly we could do together all night.

I clear my throat and look back at the bar. “Right. I guess I could go for some vuloi ale?” That sounds like something a confident, experienced person would drink.

He narrows his glowing eye at me. “Is that really what you want?”

“Um, yes?”

“Alright.” Hadrell waves over to the shikzeth. “Vuloi ale and… two Sela night blossoms. ”

The shikzeth lets out a grunt to indicate they heard us and turns away to make the drinks. The vuloi ale comes out in a thick, treacle-like ooze from a tap, slopping down into a smeared glass.

Crap, maybe I should’ve asked what it was before I picked it. It’s too late to change my mind now that the bartender is passing it over. I lift the glass up, and give Hadrell what I hope is a smile and not a grimace. “Thanks.”

“Anything for my human,” they say with a wink.

The shikzeth passes over two smaller glasses filled with a swirling black and purple liquor that looks a hell of a lot more palatable than my drink, and I try not to eye them too enviously.

“Let’s grab a seat somewhere a little more quiet,” Hadrell says as he holds a credit tab up for the bartender to scan, then grabs his drinks.

“Does such a place even exist here?” I ask, my tone incredulous as I scan the crowded seating area and try not to get overwhelmed by the amount of people here.

I never thought I had a fear of crowds. I live on Spire, the biggest space station in the galaxy, but I never had this kind of reaction. Maybe it’s because this place is so much more chaotic. Or maybe because I’m worried someone might try to grab me at any moment and sell me to an alien zoo.

“I have my ways,” Hadrell replies with a cocky grin.

It turns out their ways are betting a trio of vuloi sitting at a table in a relatively isolated area that they can chug an ale faster than any of the vuloi can. They set down their Sela night blossoms and snag my ale, then sit down at the table and proceed to win the most nauseating drinking contest I’ve ever witnessed.

They wipe their mouth and give me an apologetic look as the vuloi grumble and vacate the table. “Sorry for stealing your drink. I’ll get you another, unless you don’t mind having one of mine. ”

I slide into the booth across from him, trying to ignore how sticky the seat is.

“You’re good.” I shake my head as he nudges one drink toward me.

“I am, aren’t I?” they say, pretending to preen as they flip the ends of their hair off their shoulder and adjust the collar of their jumpsuit.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “I meant the stunt with the drink. You got two for yourself on purpose.”

“I did?” they ask with an infuriatingly innocent smile.

“Thank you.” I lift the glass of swirling liquor to my lips. He watches me with interest and I freeze. “Wait, there’s nothing weird in here, is there? This isn’t a prank, right?”

“No, Paul, it’s not a prank.” They pick up the other glass and take a swig, as if that proves that the drink is fine.

But I just saw them down that sludge ale like it was water, so I eye the glass skeptically and sniff. It’s a pleasant, fruity and almost floral aroma, with a burn of alcohol at the end.

“I enjoy teasing you, but I like seeing you pleased even more.” He licks his lips and my cock twitches. God, does he have to sound so tempting when he says things like that?

I sip the drink and the flavor bursts across my tongue. It tastes even better than it smells, with notes of citrus, some unfamiliar aromatics, and a tingling, slight burn. “Wow, that’s fantastic.” I take a bigger sip.

“I’m glad you like it. They call it a Sela night blossom because it tastes like licking the slick from between a seladin’s thighs.”

I choke on my drink as I sputter in surprise at their purred declaration. “You’re joking, right?” I ask, wiping liquid from my chin.

They give me a devilish look, mismatched eyes gleaming, and shrug, then take another sip of their drink. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

“I-I will?” Fuck, now all I can think about is tasting Hadrell. A flash of a conversation with Fina about the side-effects when a human ingests seladin fluids crosses my mind and I look between my drink and the seladin across from me in alarm. “This doesn’t have the same, uh, effects, does it?”

Hadrell cocks a dotted brow at me. “I’m not sure what you mean.” This time, it doesn’t seem like they’re teasing me at all.

“You know…how when a human ingests, uh, seladin…” My face feels engulfed in flames and I clear my throat and try to sound as scientific as possible as I continue. “Seladin semen has a hallucinogenic, aphrodisiac effect on humans.”

Hadrell’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You didn’t know about that?”

“Are you messing with me, Paul?” Hadrell asks, grinning back at me.

I suddenly worried that Fina and Mezli lied to me. But no, there was a whole debacle that I’m positive Fina would never have made up or voluntarily told me—her ex—unless her warning was sincere.

“No! It’s a… thing. My friend told me I needed to be careful in case…”

“You decide to suck seladin cock,” they say nonchalantly.

I do my best to hide the immediate thought of me on my knees in front of Hadrell, but there’s a heated twist of arousal in my gut. I’ve seen images of seladin cocks thanks to Mezli’s absurd “alien sex-ed seminar” she forced on me. It was mostly her showing me alien porn and suggesting tips for various bed partners.

“You really didn’t know that? Humans are rare, but I figured you would’ve…” I trail off as I realize what I’m asking is a very personal and inappropriate question .

Hadrell laughs, unbothered. “No, I haven’t fucked any humans. Even if I had, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It wouldn’t? Do you not like—shit, sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“Paul, are you asking me if I like someone going down on me?” Hadrell asks, a hand resting on their chest in mock indignation.

“I said I’m sorry!” I look down at the drink clasped between my hands, embarrassment threatening to immolate me.

“I do, by the way,” Hadrell says like they’re talking about the weather. “I love it.”

My eyes flick back up to meet theirs when I hear their husky tone.

He smiles at me like he’s thinking about me going down on him right now. “But I don’t have semen for a partner to ingest.”

“Oh.” Understanding hits me. “Well… good!”

“Good?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me. “Do you not like cum, Paul?”

“What? No, I do. I love cum!” I blurt, then realize I practically shouted about my love of cum in a crowded bar and sink down lower into my seat, avoiding any curious glances.

Hadrell places a hand over their mouth and continues to stare at me.

“I love all kinds of uh, fluids. They’re all great,” I explain, trying to come back from all the weird shit I’ve said. God, I should probably stop talking, but the words keep coming. “I just thought it was good we didn’t have to worry about that, uh, jizz issue.”

“Ah. Right. It’s good that we don’t need to worry about it.” Hadrell moves their hand away, no longer bothering to hide their amusement at my babbling.

“We? I meant you! Not me. I’m not—is it hot in here?” I fan myself with my hand and unceremoniously down the rest of my drink. “I’ll go get us another,” I say, pushing myself up out of my seat.

“Wait, Paul, I don’t think?—”

I stride away before they can argue, my flustered state carrying me to the bar before I realize what I’ve done. I walked through the crowded space without worrying. I didn’t even think about it.

I mean, I’m thinking about it now, but holy shit, I did it.

The bartender clears their throat and I startle, stumbling back and colliding with the nexxit beside me. I flinch, expecting them to throw a punch or yell at me, but they only grumble and gently nudge me away.

Nothing bad happened.

I’m doing this.

“Can I get two Sela night blossoms?” I ask, gripping the edge of the bar to steady myself in case something else startles me or my courage suddenly vanishes.

The bartender grunts and gestures for me to scan my credit tab while they make the drinks.

Shit. I didn’t think about that. I pat the pockets of my new jacket, realizing that I never transferred my credit tab from the inner pocket of the cloak I was wearing earlier.

“Uh, you know what, never mind.” All my confidence deflates and anxiety seeps back in as I turn away from the bar. What felt like a short distance getting over here from where I was sitting with Hadrell looks like an endless sea of aliens now.

My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out the din of conversation and clinking glasses. I can’t catch my breath, the air I suck in feeling devoid of oxygen.

Someone knocks into me, spilling sticky green liquid onto my shoes.

I can’t breathe .

Unlike before, where I felt myself slipping away, I’m all too present in my body. A body that is screaming that I have to get out of here before I die.

I barely register Hadrell calling out to me as I turn and run out of the bar into the teeming mass of bodies moving through the hall.

“Paul, where are you going?” He sounds panicked. Or angry. I can’t tell. Either way, I can’t stop.

I shove my way toward the docking bay. Or at least I think that’s where I’m headed. It’s impossible to tell. There are too many bodies and noises. Not enough air or room to think.

After what feels like ages wading against the tide of people, I spot an alcove and duck into it, plastering my back against the wall as I suck in shaky breaths. Attempting to get my bearings is almost impossible, but it’s clear I didn’t go the right way. Nothing looks familiar.

I’m alone on a horrible space station, with no comm or credit tab.

Oh god. What do I do?

My hands shake as I press them to my chest and shut my eyes, desperately trying to keep myself from shutting down completely. I try to take deep breaths to calm myself, but it’s no use. No matter how much I try to suck in air, I still feel breathless, the choking weight of my panic making me tremble.

I’m not sure how long I sit there shaking and gasping for breath, but when I open my eyes again, there’s an aespian approaching, blocking the exit from the alcove. The alcove I voluntarily went into and then shut my eyes like a clueless idiot.

I can’t help myself. I screech in terror.

The aespian grimaces at the shrill sound of my shout. “What are you doing all alone, human?”

I’m going to die .

As they step closer, I can see the knives strapped to their thighs and arms, and the outline of two blasters inside their cloak.

Oh god, I’m really going to die. My life flashes before my eyes, and what I see is so pathetic, it tears a weak sob from my chest.

I’ve done nothing. A childhood wasted in med bays and lonely bedrooms. A career where I never challenged myself or took risks. A string of dead end relationships. And now, the one time I try something new, I fuck it up, and it’s going to get me killed.

“Stay back!” I shout, anger at myself and all the time I’ve wasted bubbling up inside me.

“I’m not trying to?—”

The aespian speaks, but I cut them off. “I said, back the fuck off. Unless you want to find out what it feels like to get your ass handed to you by a human.”

They cock their head at me, antennae twitching, but halt their approach.

Good. I may be about to die, but I’m done giving up without a fight.