Chapter Nineteen 

Connell's brain was busy, trying to work out how he was going to make sure they both left on the Avata tomorrow, that Nick didn't get the chance to stay behind or whatever he was intending. All he could think of was to stick to him like glue. Maybe he could find some handcuffs. He knew it was really Nick's decision to make, but he'd have more chance escaping in the future if he was alive! After all, dead was dead. 

Connell finally got the food unit working to his satisfaction. Luckily, the oxygen unit appeared to have been maintained to some extent and was functioning adequately although it had a worrying habit of cutting out for a few minutes every so often. They had to face it, the ship was old and had been scheduled for salvage, it certainly wasn't in top condition.  

"We might as well have a good meal and a few hours sleep before we make any final decisions," Connell announced firmly, seeing the greyness of fatigue on Mars' face.  

"That sounds like a good idea," the other man agreed. He felt exhausted by all the frustrating effort. "But I don't think there's much choice. We have to take the opportunity to seek rescue while the nanobots are still transmitting. If we stay here, the Patrol will find us eventually, once Nowak gives them the co-ordinates, except by then we might be dead."  

"We'll see," Connell prevaricated. "For now, let's have a break. Come into the common room and sit down, I've got dinner ready." 

Mars brightened, "I've got an even better idea. Why don't we bring the food into the Captain's cabin and make ourselves comfortable? If it's like the Megan, there'll be a shower in there. I think I'd kill for a hot shower!" 

Connell frowned slightly.  

"I'll get the drinks," Mars continued persuasively. "I always keep a supply here on the base. I'll be back in a minute." 

"What have you got?" Connell called after him as he disappeared. 

"I'm a pirate. What do you think? Rum of course!" 

Connell was still smiling as he brought their two bowls of spicy noodles into what had been the Captain's cabin. There wasn't much of the original furniture left, but there were a couple of chairs and a small table. Evidently someone had been using it as an office. The bed was still in the corner but there was only a Patrol issue white cover on top, no pillows or quilts. Still, that would do for Mars he thought. There was bound to be another cabin he could use. If worse came to worse he could use the bedding in the cell. 

Mars came in a minute later, a bottle of Bastet Rum in his hand and a couple of glasses. He also had a clean shirt and trousers draped over one shoulder which he tossed casually onto the bed. "I always keep a few spare clothes here," he commented, nodding at the garments. 

"Here we go!" he said cheerfully. He sat down opposite Connell and poured them both a large drink. "Cheers!" He took a long swallow. "Aahh. I needed that." 

Connell sipped his rum cautiously. Hmm, not too bad, once you got used to it. They ate their meal hungrily then sat back, feet outstretched in front of them to finish their drinks. "I wonder if there's a Mahjong set anywhere?" Connell joked. 

"I don't have a Mahjong set but I do have a pack of cards," Mars offered. Both had had more than enough of talking about the ship and its problems, and they enjoyed a few hands of an old fashioned game called poker, which was making a comeback. Mars tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade Connell into a version he had discovered called "Strip poker," and poured them both more rum. Connell felt he was quite getting a taste for it. 

Eventually Mars stood up and stretched. "I'm going to have a shower," he announced. "Would you like one as well?" The alarmed look on Connell's face made him laugh. "I didn't mean at the same time," he teased. "Although if you'd like your back scrubbed, I'd be more than happy to oblige." He looked the other man over with a predatory eye, remembering in vivid detail how he had looked naked on the bed in front of him. Rather too late, he changed his expression to a friendly invitation. 

"I won't be long," he promised. "Don't go anywhere." He scooped up the clean clothes on his way into the cubicle. 

A few minutes later he emerged clean and damp, his white shirt clinging to his body in parts, the loose black trousers fastened at his ankles. To his considerable disappointment, Connell had taken the opportunity to disappear. Damn. He'd scared him off. 

He sat down rather disconsolately and poured himself another drink. He sipped slowly, brooding into his glass. Was it remotely possible that Connell was expecting him to follow? Waiting for him somewhere on the ship? His heart beat faster at the thought. Now that the idea had occurred to him, he couldn't put it aside. He wanted Conn so much, surely it wasn't possible that it could be all one sided? Fate couldn't be that cruel. He thought back, looking for signs that Connell might return his interest. The most obvious was the way he had risked everything to help him escape. Surely that meant he had feelings for him beyond friendship? Or was he kidding himself, indulging in wishful thinking? 

Connell dragged the bedding out of the cell and into the nearest small cabin a few doors down. He'd had enough of cells and imprisonment to last a lifetime. The cabin was bare but it would do for a night, he'd had to distance himself from Mars. Although Nick had tried to hide it, mostly, he'd been looking at him with increasing heat throughout the evening, and he had decided to retreat rather than face the inevitable pass. Surely Nick would take the not so subtle hint, and leave him alone? He liked him, a lot, but not the way the other man wanted. 

He was lying on his back on the bed, still fully dressed apart from his boots, looking at the ceiling. He was unaccustomed to strong spirits and the room was spinning a little. In a minute he'd get up and put his uniform in the cleaning unit. He yawned. Well there was no point worrying about things anymore tonight, time to get some sleep. 

He was just about to get up and take off his uniform when he heard a tentative voice at his door.  

"Conn? Are you in there? Are you awake?" 

Nick came into the cabin without waiting for an answer. Connell gave a faint sigh. He hadn't really thought he was going to get away with it, had he? 

"Why don't you come in, Nick," he muttered a touch sarcastically, turning on the light to a dim glow. 

"I am in," came the rather surprised reply. Just how much rum had Nick had to drink after he'd left? 

Nick headed straight towards him like a heat seeking missile to its target and Connell stood up hastily to avoid getting fenced in on the bed. Unfortunately Nick took this as eagerness to see him and pulled him roughly into an embrace. "God I want you!" he murmured thickly, pressing his mouth hotly on his closed lips. Connell tried to pull away but Nick simply tightened his grip. His tongue probed, seeking entrance to his mouth. "Conn, relax, let me kiss you. Please. It will be okay, I promise." Nick had intended to take things really slowly, step by tiny step, but he had run out of time. In all probability this would be their last night together. His hands went up, seeking to unfasten Connell's uniform. Why on Earth was he still wearing it? 

Conn shut his eyes. What if he gave Nick what he wanted? Just this once? Could he do it? He thought he could probably manage a kiss, but what would happen if Nick wanted to touch him, arouse him? He'd probably freak out. He drew back slightly, his hands covering Nick's. 

"Nick? I know you're hoping otherwise, but I really am straight." He tried to keep his voice calm. "I can't give you what you want from me, and I don't want to lead you on."  

Had Nick heard him? He was still trying to get his uniform open.  

Nick refused to believe him, he wouldn't give up that easily. He let go of his uniform for the moment and kissed the side of his throat. Surely if Conn was really straight he would have pushed him away hard in disgust, instead of ... he was pretty sure he had tilted his head slightly, exposing more of his throat. Mars kissed him again, tracing a line up the side of his neck and along his jaw, feeling his blood heat with every kiss.  

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. Are you absolutely sure you're completely straight?" he murmured huskily. He was already aroused, he had fantasised about this for so long, the scent of Conn's skin, the feel of his firm, slender body in his arms. He was certain Conn would surrender to the attraction, once he relaxed and accepted the embrace. "Maybe you should kiss me, as an experiment. Take a risk, seeing as it's our last night together, before I go back to prison I mean," he added hastily. 

For a second Conn considered it, maybe if he gave Nick what he wanted he'd come with him on the Avata without arguing. "I don't know ... alright, we'll try a kiss, just a kiss though." What was he letting himself in for? wondered Connell. 

He opened his lips a fraction and shut his eyes, imagining he was embracing a woman, although for some reason she had wavy dark hair and gold hoop earrings in her ears. Nick's tongue slid into his mouth, hesitant at first, then licking his way around his teeth, tangling with his tongue until he thrust hard down his throat with short, strong bursts. He had been waiting for this for so long, he was finding it difficult to hold back. His hips ground into Connell's, pushing him up against the wall.  

Connell felt totally overwhelmed. This was way too much. The kiss wasn't that bad he supposed, but he felt really uncomfortable with the heavy embrace. Maybe for this once, he could block out reality and endure Nick's caresses, but afterwards ... he would be embarrassed and ashamed, resentful that he had been pressured into doing something he didn't want. He was sure Nick wanted more than a rubber Conn doll, he'd want Conn to be an active and eager, if inexperienced participant. If Conn just lay there enduring it would be degrading for both of them. He didn't deserve that. Nick didn't deserve that. He had to take a stand. 

"Nick? I'm so sorry but I can't do this." Connell felt as if the words were dragged out of him. 

"What?" Nick didn't understand. He was obviously heavily aroused, his imagination already several steps ahead. 

"We need to stop. This is making me really uncomfortable." 

"Am I going too fast? I can slow down." Nick asked hopefully. Connell couldn't mean he wanted Nick to stop entirely, could he? Wasn't he the slightest bit turned on? Nick was so aroused himself he was tenting his trousers, he could almost feel the breeze blowing through. He looked down, it was hard to tell what Conn was feeling with his uniform in the way. Only one way to check for sure. Before Connell realised what he was going to do, Nick had cupped him, uniform and all. Connell leapt back as if he'd been bitten. "What on Earth are you doing?" he yelled. 

"Just checking," Nick replied, letting him go and standing back. Conn had felt warm and wonderful and ... completely unaroused. 

Nick smiled, masking his crushing disappointment. "I'm sorry. I thought ... I hoped ..." 

"I know," Connell met his gaze. "I'm sorry too. I tried to tell you, I do like you Nick, just not that way." 

Nick was backing away, careful not to touch him again. Connell stepped forward and put his hands on his shoulders, "We can still be friends, right?" 

"Sure," Nick smiled again, feeling as if his face was going to break with the effort. Connell wasn't fooled. He drew him into a hug, ignoring the pressure against his stomach which had freaked him out before. "I'm really, really sorry Nick," he whispered. "If anyone was going to convert me, it would have been you."