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“How old are you again?” Roy chuckled and turned his head to peck Cal’s temple.

“Twenty-eight, in your weird Pyraxian calendar.”

“Are you sure?” Roy shot him a look and a wide grin, earning a tickle along his ribs. Twenty-eight—eleven planetary cycles less than Roy. He tried to remember what his life was like, but the cycles between his twenty-fifth and current year blurred. He remembered the highlights, the peaks and the lows—mostly the lows—but couldn’t recall specifics.

“Almost certain.” Cal squeezed, hard enough for Roy’s ribs to protest, and released. “Hey, AVOS, can you manage this on your own?”

“I believe so,” AVOS responded. His new strategy involved a highly absorbent rag that squeaked against the metal deck as he scrubbed.

“Great, thank you.” Cal laced his fingers with Roy’s and tugged, head nodding toward the living areas. “I believe we had a conversation to resume.”

With each step toward the sleeping pod, Roy’s heart rate climbed. Cal, oblivious to the chaos in Roy’s mind, twirled around and pulled them both into the pod. Roy’s back sank into the soft padding.

Cal landed on top of Roy, straddling his thighs with a wide smile. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Roy’s mouth. A strange sound clawed out of Roy’s throat—was it a sigh, or a sob? And did it matter, in the moment when the Starborn of Eiden was kissing him with the intensity of a stormy sea? Maybe he could allow himself a moment of foolishness. He gripped Cal’s hips, thumbs grazing the sharp bones underneath the suit’s fabric, and returned the kiss, meeting Cal’s desperate need for affection.

Void be damned, I need this.

Fingertips slid below his undershirt. When they touched his skin, Roy gasped into Cal’s mouth.

“You’re so warm,” Cal murmured, slowly rolling the cotton undershirt up until his hand stopped in the middle of Roy’s chest. “Like you trapped sunlight in your skin.”

Roy’s smile broke before he could stop it. Cal had a way of turning simple phrases into poetry that coiled around Roy. Failing to summon anything remotely close, he hooked his limbs around Cal and used his weight advantage to flip them over. Clawing off his undershirt, he yanked the fabric so hard the seams groaned.

Cal’s hands shot to Roy’s torso, exploring every scar, dipping into the thin layer of dark hairs. He seemed so content that Roy almost expected him to start kneading.

His violet eyes widened. “So beautiful,” he whispered.

“We’ll get you some glasses when we land.” Roy grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of Cal’s nose.

“What? Oh⁠—”

Roy froze, halfway done with unzipping Cal’s jumpsuit. The trembling was hard to ignore, as was the twitch of Cal’s hand, as if he wanted to grab Roy’s hand and push it away.

“Are you okay?” Roy asked.

“Y—yeah.”

Roy lifted an eyebrow. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m not.”

“Cal, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.” Roy shifted his weight, minimising their points of contact. “You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what this is about.”

“That’s not it,” Cal mumbled, cheeks flushed pink. “I—want you.”

“Is that why you look like you’re suffering?” Roy sighed, ready to pull away. But Cal’s fingers wrapped around Roy’s wrist, guiding his hand down. He pressed Roy’s palm against his groin and let out a breath.

Beneath the reinforced fabric, an indisputable twitch pulsed against Roy’s palm. He traced the hardened length and lifted his gaze to meet Cal’s. “Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just, I—I’ve never done this,” Cal said, meeting Roy’s caresses with a roll of his hips.

Roy stared. “Never?”

“Not entirely,” Cal mumbled. “We sneaked away for one night before Leo’s military service, into the star observatory. There was some hand stuff.”

After a moment of silence, Roy forced himself to say something. “Okay. How about we take it slow?”

“I can do slow,” Cal whispered, tilting his head to expose his neck.