Chapter 3
Michael had no idea how long he’d been out after blacking out. The light slanting through the window told him it was afternoon, but his mind felt heavy and slow, as if he’d slept for ages.
He hauled himself into a seated position and grimaced when he felt the dull ache in places he’d never ached in his life. So… that happened.
Turning his head, he found Anthony sprawled on his back, his wide chest rising and falling evenly. He was asleep. He looked peaceful.
Michael stared numbly at his friend as a wave of unreality washed over him. It was still hard to believe that last night had really happened. Involuntarily, his gaze fell to Anthony’s cock—so big even when it was soft—and he quickly looked away, his cheeks warm.
Right. Moving on.
Ant was alive. That was the important thing. The only thing that mattered.
Running a hand over his face, Michael took a deep breath and got to his feet. He gritted his teeth as the dull ache in his asshole transformed into something sharper. Something harder to ignore. But he had to ignore it all the same.
He walked into the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror. A man with dark blond hair and dark eyes stared back at him. For a moment, he seemed like a stranger.
Michael shook his head. He had to stop being ridiculous.
What had happened was a—a necessary evil. His friend’s life had been in danger. He’d saved it. That was all. He needed to put it out of his mind.
His erection bouncing uselessly on every thrust of the cock in him—
Michael shoved the memory away, his face burning.
No. He wasn’t going to think about it. He was going to put the entire thing out of his mind.
It didn’t mean anything. He’d done what he had to do.
Anthony was alive thanks to his actions.
No one even had to know what had happened—as long as he removed any evidence of his shame. No one could know.
An hour later, Michael looked critically around Anthony’s cabin.
He’d changed the sheets and instructed the medical droid to clean Anthony thoroughly.
He’d showered twice too, trying to get the other alpha’s scent off him.
It hadn’t entirely worked, but a bottle of scent neutralizer he’d found in the storage room had done the job.
Everything looked good. There was no evidence that something had transpired between them.
He had no reason to be nervous.
“What happened?” came a hoarse voice from behind.
Michael flinched. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned around and smiled. “Hey. How do you feel?”
Anthony was looking at him with a strange expression. “Not dead,” he said slowly. “Why am I not dead?”
Smiling crookedly, Michael shrugged. “I guess the med-droid was wrong and your body burned through that venom.”
A wrinkle appeared between Anthony’s brows, but after a moment, he nodded, accepting the explanation.
He didn’t remember. He really didn’t remember anything.
Michael almost sagged with relief. Although he’d expected that, there had been a small chance that Anthony would remember.
“What happened to your scent?”
Michael froze.
“What?” he managed after a moment. Could Anthony smell himself on him?
Anthony’s nostrils flared. He was frowning when he said, “You don’t have any scent.”
Ah. That.
“I figured it would be easier for you if my scent didn’t aggravate you so much, so I used a scent neutralizer. Found it in the storage room.” The lie was believable, so he expected Anthony to buy it, but the other alpha was still staring at him strangely.
Michael looked away, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway. Now that you feel better, I will work on fixing that communicator. I think I can figure out how to send an SOS to the nearest star system. Someone is bound to pick it up—”
“Michael.”
He looked at Anthony with great reluctance. “What?”
Blue eyes were studying him intently.
Did he remember something, after all?
“Thank you,” Anthony said.
“For what?”
“For putting up with me,” Anthony said with a wry smile. “I was an ass to you yesterday, and I probably wasn’t much better even while I was medicated.”
Nope, you just mounted me and knotted me four times.
Swallowing, Michael let out a laugh that hopefully sounded more sincere to Anthony than it did to his own ears. “You growled and groaned all the time—and stank a bit too much for my liking, but at least you didn’t talk back at me anymore. It was fine.”
That piercing blue gaze bored into him again, making Michael feel uncomfortably transparent.
Did Anthony suspect something? Gods, he wouldn’t be able to bear the humiliation if Ant found out.
The awkwardness alone would surely ruin their friendship, and the mere thought made his stomach knot up.
It wasn’t like he had a lot of friends these days.
“All right,” Anthony said after a moment. “Thanks anyway.”
“It was nothing,” Michael lied, and fled.
His asshole twinged as he strode away, reminding him of—
Nothing.
He wasn’t going to think about it.
***
Michael didn’t think about it.
He didn’t think about it as he worked on fixing their communicator, he didn’t think about it as they grabbed a meal together, he didn’t think about it as they went to their respective cabins to sleep.
He lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, still not thinking about it.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he couldn’t do it anymore.
He slipped on his shoes and headed for the ship’s exit.
Sitting down on the ramp stairs, he rested his forearms on his knees and stared out at the landscape.
Night here was never truly dark—the rivers of lava painted the ground in a molten orange-red glow, while a single bright moon cast pale light across the dark purple sky. In the distance, the volcano’s smoke smeared the sky in shades of brown.
“It’s pretty here, isn’t it?”
Michael flinched, cursing the scent neutralizer that he still wore for inhibiting his own sense of smell too. He would have smelled Anthony otherwise.
“Yeah,” he said, looking in front of him as his friend sat down. Right next to him.
Their shoulders brushed.
Michael made a conscious effort to relax. It was just Ant. His best friend.
“The stars look very different from here,” Anthony said, his voice quiet, contemplative.
Michael chuckled, looking at the night sky. “That’s generally what happens when you look at them from a different star system, mate.”
“Smart-ass,” Anthony muttered, knocking their shoulders together. “You know what I mean. It’s different when you come to a planet on a ship. From here, space feels vast. The world alien.”
Michael hummed in agreement. It was true. It had been years since he’d traveled on a spaceship. These days most travel was done through TNIT—Transgalactic Nearly Instantaneous Teleportation—and it was easy to forget how vast the galaxy was, how far from their home these alien worlds were.
“Pretty sure that star is our sun,” he said.
“Which one?”
Michael pointed, and Anthony leaned closer, presumably to see which star he was pointing at.
Michael swallowed, his stomach attempting to jump to his throat as the other alpha’s scent filled his nostrils. This close, the scent neutralizer no longer worked. He could smell Anthony, his strong scent grating against his frayed nerves: ozone and petrichor, heavy and overwhelming.
“That one,” he heard himself say, the words floating up from some great distance, his pulse thundering in his ears.
He wanted… he wanted to shove Anthony away.
He couldn’t stand his closeness, his asshole clenching around nothing, the dull ache reminding him of the way the other alpha had filled him last night. Not thinking about it.
“What makes you think that? It looks no different to me from the others. I don’t recognize any of the constellations.”
Michael focused his gaze on the sky with some difficulty, his body rigid with tension. If he moved away, would Anthony think it strange?
“Just a hunch. The skybox isn’t completely unrecognizable—see that bright star to the right?
It’s Vergx for sure. No other star is that bright.
” He breathed shallowly, trying not to breathe in Anthony’s scent.
“Vergx is the top of the Raiola constellation when we look at it from our star system. Look at the stars around it. The constellation’s distorted, but still recognizable.
That star, though—it doesn’t belong. See?
” He was actually far from sure that star was their sun, but he had to keep talking—to keep Ant distracted.
Anthony hummed. “Maybe.” A pause. “Something is bothering you.”
It took an incredible effort not to stiffen.
Michael said lightly, “Of course something is bothering me. We’re stranded on an uninhabited planet, with no way to reach civilization.”
Anthony said nothing for a while.
“I served in Intelligence during the war,” he finally said, his voice mild. “I know when I’m being lied to, Mike.”
Michael chuckled. “Don’t call me that. You know my mother hates it. So plebeian.”
“You are avoiding my question.”
“There was a question?”
Anthony’s scent spiked with aggression, and Michael’s asshole clenched instinctively. Fuck, he needed to get away from him.
He got to his feet, feeling almost lightheaded from the sudden move. But it was easier to breathe—easier to think—now that Anthony’s overwhelming scent had stopped clogging his nose.
“I’m tired,” he said. “Good night.”
He strode back into the ship, trying not to feel like he was fleeing.
His heart was still pounding as he climbed back into his bed. He lay down on his back, his skin buzzing with agitation.
He’d never been so aware of his asshole.
Growling in frustration, Michael shoved a spare pillow between his legs, against his hole, trying to quell the strange, unnatural feeling, to make it go away.
He fell asleep like that.
When he woke up, he found himself grinding against the pillow—grinding the pillow between his cheeks, against his hole. It took his sleep-fogged brain a moment to catch up—and then Michael froze, horror and confusion crashing over him, before he shoved the pillow away. What the fuck.
No way.
No goddamn way.
***
It had been just a fluke.
He wasn’t responsible for what his body did during his sleep. That was what Michael had told himself.
But the problem wasn’t going away.
He was hyperaware of his hole in a way he never had been, especially when Anthony was near. It was worst when Anthony grew angry, his alpha scent thickening, turning sharp and foul. Michael’s empty asshole pulsed, haunted by the phantom cock that had filled it. It was disgusting. It was unbearable.
Michael took to avoiding his friend whenever he could get away with it. Anthony clearly could tell that something was off. He’d tried asking about it a few times, but Michael had become an expert at dodging questions and changing the subject. He knew he couldn’t do it forever, though.
But two days later, to his immense relief, they repaired the communicator and sent out an SOS. A passing ship picked them up within hours. Michael had never felt such profound relief.
Finally, the ordeal was over.
He could forget about it.
His life could now go back to normal.