SquidgeWorld Archive

They were together, here in the obs deck, before this screen of eternal unreality. A huge picture into space, looking at which you forgot the time and the days became interchangeable. It was late, but only as indicated by the ship's clocks and the lack of ambient lighting. The middle of the night. Tyr had been wandering the halls unable to sleep, and had found Seamus Harper in here, sipping whiskey. They sat exchanging small words, and it would have made a tender picture to the observer.

"You shouldn't be drinking that, Harper."

"Don't worry, mother. I'm not out to kill myself. This is my first glass. I'm, uh, drinking for the taste."

Tyr smirked. "And the crate of beer in the workshop, was it for taste also?"

Harper looked up at the man sitting beside him, not too close but enough to smell. How had Tyr known about that? The worry seemed genuine, too. "That was two weeks ago. I promised not to fuck up like that again and I haven't. Really", he said, looking into the glass. "But thanks for the concern."

Tyr just looked back. At this hour, people did not lie. Their minds were open.

"All right", he said. Acquiesced.

Harper smiled. There was a pause.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for an insomniac, Tyr. I mean, you look so composed and arrogant and mentally stable all the time. Shouldn't you at least be reading war philosophy or something?"

Tyr smiled slightly. Dryly. "How observant. Shouldn't you be constructing machinery?"

"Ok, point taken."

"Everyone has fallings-out of...routine. Even I cannot always escape persistent thoughts", Tyr said. He had a nagging thought that perhaps this was too much of a revelation to the boy. They had no business sharing. But then, it was a strange hour.

Harper nodded. "Memory is one of the worst bitches." He stared into space.

"Precisely."

So there was wisdom in Harper, Tyr thought. It was easy to overlook depth with one so extroverted. He took the glass from Harper's hand and gulped down the contents. It tasted acrid and yet comforting.

Harper had felt acutely the brush of Tyr's fingers just then. Such occasions made him think silly things, like how lovely Tyr's face was under starlight. Yes, dumb thoughts, which he couldn't help. Ever since...the worldship, Tyr's drowning on Mobius, he'd felt this warm gratitude. Very warm. Quite intense to think about, really; Nietzschean extraordinaire, the king of self-preservation blah blah blah, had shown caring and friendship for him. Very, very warm. And he couldn't say it. He wanted to be closer to Tyr, touch his skin perhaps, feel out the caring part of him. And there was no way of going about it. But for now it was nice to sit here and breathe his scent and be given his conversation.

He couldn't help wondering whether Tyr could smell this on him some freaky Nietzschean way. He also couldn't help pushing his luck.

"You died for me."

This would not do good things. It was a subject Tyr clearly did not want to discuss. Immediately Harper regretted his impulse. "Look, I'm sorry...if you don't wanna talk about this, you know--"

"No. Let us speak of it. I can see it would relieve you."

Harper gave a sigh. "Yeah. Why...did you?"

"Perhaps my noble spirit wanted to ensure that if we could all survive, we should."

"So if it had been someone else you would've still...?"

Tyr shook his head. Long braids cascaded around his shoulders, warrior-like. It made Harper wonder if all men would look better longhaired. Tyr made modernity seem tacky.

"There is no nobility amongst Nietzscheans. As such, it was a very close decision. What did I possibly have to gain from risking my life in order to save a human, one with a terminal health problem at that?"

Tyr's eyes softened when he saw Harper wince. He went on in quieter tones. "Seemingly nothing, except for your continued presence. Was this why? Perhaps not at all. But know this--during that Magog hell...it was very important to me, your courage. How much you fought. After that I could not really let you die. The fight would have been meaningless."

Tyr half regretted saying this. Emotional honesty equated to danger almost always. Then again, had he really believed that this little human would contemplate causing him damage, he'd have said nothing.

"Thanks. I mean that", Harper said. This eased his mind somewhat. "Even if I die eventually I'm glad you saved me."

The boy's self-deprecation could grate abominably.

"Harper, shut up or I will hurt you", Tyr said with a grin.

"What when you're half-asleep and all friendly? Riight", Harper taunted.

Tyr suppressed his laugh and reached over, putting Harper in a headlock. Not a painful one, but with oh so much discomfort. There was a muffled yelp from inside his arm.

"Let me go or I'll do something--"

Tyr squeezed tighter.

"--I'll do something bad!" Harper yelled as he squirmed.

Even at 400 hours Tyr was able to laugh in an "I am infinitely superior to you" manner. It conveyed better than words exactly how frightened he was at Harper's threats.

Though he couldn't breathe very well Harper was able to notice the pleasant softness of Tyr's skin over the hard muscles. Maybe he'd...No, he couldn't. But--

He licked the tricep in front of him fiercely. Tyr was surprised enough to let go so suddenly as to throw Harper to the floor. He skidded a bit. Tyr immediately jumped down and kneeled next to him, inspecting. No real harm done.

Harper stood up, panting. He pointed a weak finger. "Ha."

They laughed. It was strange to see Tyr do it, an unrestrained act, without premeditation. One was unaccustomed to it.

There were a great many unspoken things lying between them, as they stood suddenly sleepy in the anticlimax of laughter.

"Wow. I didn't know you could do that", Harper said.

"I am not a robot, Harper."

"I know, I know. You're just a really frigid...individual." Harper was hoping to irritate. Perhaps to incite more sparring.

"Frigid?" Tyr grimaced and huffed, or what 'huffed' became on his face. "Please. I can invoke heat in more ways than you can imagine."

"Well, actually, I can imagine quite a few..."

Tyr looked down, slightly puzzled. Harper retraced his steps, flustered.

"Teasing. I'm teasing. Pulling your altered leg. I mean, there are certain things you shouldn't say to, uh, pliable young humans at 5 in the morning...yeah". He looked at his shoes, ran a hand through his hair roughly, throat clearing. "Well, so much for bonding. Um, goodnight--"

"Would you like me to hug you?" Tyr asked unexpectedly. There was much empathy in his face. His demeanor said that they were on equal footing. For now. With Tyr, it was always for now.

"What?" Harper's heart thundered in his chest.

"Harper, the body doesn't lie. I have eyes."

Harper groaned and squinted, trying to shut out...what, his own ridiculousness, transparency? The want? Threw his head back in some attempt not to be here, in this desperate situation right now.

Tyr's hand on his shoulder led him towards the platform in front of the giant window. He sat up on it, facing Tyr. They were relatively eye to eye. Tyr's arms went around Harper's shoulders. They pressed together, fit very well actually. Harper's head in the crook of Tyr's head and his arms around leather-clad back, knees touching Tyr's hips. It was surprisingly fulfilling, to him, completely horny 75% of the time. Jesus.

It felt good, Tyr's neck. And soft. And warm. So much that he wouldn't have minded boiling to death in this warmth had it been asked of him. Just to stay there. And just for that fleeting moment, of course.

Tyr's breath was close to his ear and the feel of it hit particular nerves in his brain, created a peace. He was a fool at peace. But still a fool. For being vulnerable at all, not to mention to a dangerous, dangerous man. A Nietzschean man. One who cared maybe 1/16 of what Harper cared for him. So here he was, having made this dumb move, and to top it all off he wasn't able to tear himself away. Despite the stupidity, he clung. Was grateful for the contact between them, nay, satisfied, in the face of this risky power shift.

Tyr spoke. "Your presence is...a comfort to me, though you seem not to realize it. I feel I should comfort you in turn."

Tyr's voice was very low and purry and vibrated wonderfully into Harper's ear. Oh, it was a ticket straight to the land of delusion, listening to that voice. It woke up various parts of him. Why couldn't he owe his life to someone who didn't emanate mind-blowing sexual power?

Invariably he dug his nails into Tyr's vest, a kind of last sweet taste before he had to let go. Maybe vindictiveness had to do with it, too.

"Fulfilling your obligations. So you are noble", he said.

Tyr spoke with a kind of 'this is in your best interest' warning. "Stop. I will not condone this idiotic masochism."

An exasperated "ok, ok" into Tyr's shoulder and he let go, sat back. They looked at each other. Again, what silence. Tyr's face had that well-meaning statement. Harper had seen it before. Protective, conveying something Tyr could not afford to say out loud. It was funny, and painful and ironic, how innocent Tyr's face was sometimes. Or so it looked. So it all looked.

Tyr caressed Harper's forehead and cheek, passed a hand through his hair. Trying to bestow calm. Almost fatherly.

"Well", Harper said. "That did, um, comfort me." He jumped off the platform.

"You're shivering."

"Well, excuuse me. I'm not the one who chose to be 'comforted by my presence', and I'm also not the one wearing skintight leather all day. I really can't be held accountable for my body, ok?" A fast jump to his old self, strangely enough.

Tyr rolled his eyes. "No, I don't think it's that, you hormone cluster."

"You're right." Harper hugged himself for warmth. "Shit, it's cold in here!"

"The temperature controls are malfunctioning", Tyr said, looking around.

"Yeah, that must be why you look like someone iced down your, uh, you know. Now let's go get Harper several blankets," he said and began walking towards his quarters, arms still hugging his body madly. Safe behind Harper's unseeing back Tyr looked down. Something not unlike a blush was visible on his face. He followed the young engineer, who was already talking in unhealthy amounts.

It was odd. Harper's fluffy head sticking out of the blankets resembled that of a duckling. A duckling, tampering with the most powerful warship in the known worlds. Really, it was hard to believe Harper knew what he was doing, from the looks of him. But there it was, temperature fixed in less than 2 minutes.

Harper stood up, self-satisfied, and threw the blankets off of himself. "Okay, done. No need for these anymore. But we could make use of them if you really want to", he said, casting a wannabe-coquette look at Tyr.

The Nietzschean stared back with blank face and crossed one leg over the other. "I do not really want to, nor would it be a wise idea."

"How so?"

"Well, I would break several bones of yours...at least. And you would be inept to sit down normally for quite a long time."

"Fine." Harper made a face and turned his back.

Tyr gave a frustrated-yet-indulgent sigh. "It amazes me that despite your apparent genius, you manage to be so petulant."

Harper turned around again and gave a cocky grin. He wasn't too made. "Come on, everyone's gotta have a tragic flaw."

A smile was forming at the corners of Tyr's mouth. "But what about your alcoholism...lechery, absolute lack of fashion sense...the horrible mess you make of your quarters...?

Harper grimaced. "Gee, stop the sweet talk before I fall in love." He made a mock death scene, collapsing atop the blankets.

"All right," Tyr said, trying to remain solemn. But he was unable to contain his laughter.

They were friends, at least that much. Though Harper wished their friendship contained more nudity, this felt very good, too. For now.

He yawned and rolled over, stretching. "Hey. Can you do me a favour?" he muttered though the onslaught of not having slept for the last 24 hours. Suddenly, he could barely move.

"What would you like?"

"Could you carry me--" he yawned again, "--to my quarters?"

"All right, thou child."

Tyr grabbed him off the floor in one fell swoop and carried him off in a sort of upright hug. The softness of his dreadlocks was surprising. They itched Harper's nose a bit, but he wasn't really mobile so it didn't matter. Through half-lidded eyes he noticed they weren't walking in the direction of his room, but Tyr's.

"Tyr? Not that I mind but...like...you said? These aren't my quarters."

"You've been awake the entire night. I want you to sleep where it's comfortable, without every spare part of Andromeda on the floor."

Perhaps talking now was a bad idea, what with his brain shutting down and all, but Harper couldn't resist. "Uhuh, so you say. But I think big bad Tyr has an itch to scratch. A Harper-sized itch," he mumbled.

Tyr scoffed and threw him vindictively on the bed, then stalked off to the couch and collapsed. He disrobed quickly, too tired to care whether or not Harper was able to ogle anything, and crawled majestically under the sheet.

This was the last picture in Harper's mind before he went to sleep. He smiled to himself and drifted off. Feeling like he'd won. For now.