Garrett looked splendid in his heels and spangly shirt, open to show his rippling… well, abs would imply he’d developed abdominal muscles, but his shirt was open. His chest hair rippled like a fine field of golden wheat blowing in a moist breeze.
Garrett was an impressive specimen, standing with one heeled foot on the bed he shared with Bill, the navigator. Not that his Bill had any navigational skills, but he needed a title, and so far he’d been excellent at pointing and yelling, “Watch out for that spiraling time vortex, you unbelievable morons!”
So a navigator he was.
The door swung open to the cabin, permitting Bill, who pulled carry-on luggage behind him, and held a bag under his arm.
“Hey sexy- what the hell are those, Bill?” Garrett stared at the grim expression on Bill’s face.
“I need some time,” Bill said this to the luggage, as he attempted to free it when it snagged on the carpet. “I want to go home for a bit.”
Garrett, a long, hairy leg propped up on the bed, as sexy as a swashbuckling spider, stared in dawning horror at his lover.
“But why in the seventeen and a half ‘verses would you want to leave me?” the fully grown man popped his lower lip out, wobbling it pathetically.
“I don’t want to leave you!” Bill snapped, one hand on his hip, the other on his temple, massaging a hideous headache. “I want... the future! Or to go back to the modern era. Or…”
“We can go anywhere in time,” Garrett argued. His thigh cramped horribly, pain shooting directly into his manly happy center.
He wasn’t certain he could actually move the leg anymore; he seemed to be stuck. One scarlet heel was wedged into the floorboards. Gently moving back and force to coax his stiff leg into obeying, Garrett proceeded to rhythmically thrust.
“I need to get away from this ship!” Bill stared, obviously mesmerized by Garrett’s swaying cutlass.
Bill waved a hand at the walls, adorned with the trophies of their victorious battles. Well, Garrett and the crew’s victorious battles.
“Let’s take some shore leave-” Garrett trailed off.
Bill hid in a barrel the last time they went on shore leave, which Garrett teased him mercilessly about. There was a dragon, so what? And fine, it was angry at Garrett for parading around wearing the tiara he nicked from it, but Bill could have at least thanked him for giving him something as pretty as a tiara. It really brought out the twinkling depths of Bill’s eyes.
But now the barrels were all being referred to as “Bill’s brave barrels” and the crew had been advised to keep them empty in case Bill got scared again. Which, come to think of it, might have irritated Bill a teensy weensy-
“I need to get away from you!” Bill said. “You never take anything seriously. You don’t take me seriously.”
Garrett followed Bill’s furious line of sight to the corner of the cabin, where the tiara hung from the wall, next to a dragon’s tooth.
Bill opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and started pulling his clothes out of it. Garrett managed to ease his leg down onto the floor, grimaced at the excruciating pain of the cramp that had finally taken hold of his leg, and fell onto the bed. Today wasn’t going well. He had wanted to fall onto the bed with Bill.
He propped his head up in his hand, flexed his leg, and waggled his eyebrows.
“You look pretty in diamonds,” Garrett tried.
“I look pretty in everything!” Bill yelled. It was true.
Garrett went pale, staring past Bill at the shape that loomed in their doorway. Hands on hips, strong jawline, handsome features, the captain observed the two men in a haughty silence.
“Hello cap’n,” Garrett waved. He closed his legs. Then he realized he wasn’t wearing pants.
While Garrett pulsated through different shades of pink on his way to red, Bill helpfully threw him a pair of pants, still rifling through the trunk.
“Ello Vanessa,” Bill said, without turning to look at her.
“Bill, Garrett,” she said coldly, never moving her eyes from Garrett.
“Cap’n, with all the respect I can muster,” Garrett slid the pants onto his lap and moved into a seated position. “Can whatever this is wai-”
Ignoring him, Vanessa crouched next to Bill and touched his shoulder.
“Honey, I need you to break up with my first mate later,” she said softly.
Bill dropped a pair of satiny trousers back into the trunk, and looked at Vanessa. Her face was contorted into a horrible expression he could only assume was her attempt to look friendly and understanding. He wish’d she’d stop.
“Hey! Tell him not to break up with me, ever!” Garrett said, aghast.
“Why?” Bill asked Vanessa. “What’s wrong?”
Vanessa stood, sighing, and pointed at the tiara.
“We only killed one dragon on the Forbidden Isle of Sapphic Bloodlust,” she said. “And I’ve just received word that there are two.”
The ship shuddered violently, quaking as though it had been struck by something.
“And by word,” Vanessa scrunched her face up like an angry rabbit sucking on three to five lemons. “I mean a whole fucking lot of fireballs.”
Vanessa spun on her heel, revealing singe marks in her fine shirt and vests, as well as burnt curls of her long hair, and marched out in a dramatic exit.
Bill brought his gaze up slowly to meet Garrett’s wide eyes.
“I wish I could tell you I’m pregnant,” Bill said, wistfully. “Just to make your day that much worse.”
“I’m suing for custody,” Garrett wriggled into the pants Bill had tossed him, delighted to see they were leopard print and skintight. “But I’m not letting you fall out of love with me, Bill, we’ve been through too much.”
Bill left without another word, leaving Garrett to stare at the tiara on the wall.