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Patrick still didn’t know what had happened between the qeshian brothers, but he’d been relieved to find Serihk really did care for his little brother and was willing to throw his political weight around for him. It helped that said little brother was a scientific genius and that the current crisis required exactly that.
Patrick’s maneuvering was bearing fruit, and he was cautiously optimistic about the future. Optimistic enough to have reached out to Tar, Bar’in, and Sazahk on their opinions. There was only one front Patrick hadn’t moved on.
“And how does Fal’ran fit into your plans again?” Lar’a gave him a pointed look.
Patrick’s gaze dragged back to the young man chatting with Bryant. “I’m still working on that.”
“Right.” Lar’a dragged out the word and Patrick didn’t need her to continue her thought, but of course she did. “And you talked to him about that yet? I don’t know, maybe get his opinion on the future you’re planning for him?”
“I’m going to.” Patrick tapped his finger along the edge of his glass. He was. Of course, he was. “And I’m not planning anything for him. I’m giving him options.”
Lar’a and Serihk exchanged a glance loaded with the conversations people glued at the hip for over a decade could have with only their eyes.
“I’m going to discuss everything with him.” Patrick licked his lips and took a deep breath. “Tomorrow.”
First, he wanted to enjoy one more night with Fal’ran before reality crashed in on them. The next day was the celebratory gala on Base Givast. After that, the strange in-between world where they all lived on ships and held their breath would be over. Their futures started and decisions had to be made.
But they’d face all that tomorrow. Not tonight. Tonight, they had nothing to face, and Patrick would damn well make the most of it.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Patrick set his glass down and made for Fal’ran when Lar’a grabbed his arm.
“By the way, seeing as you didn’t have time to pack before you came aboard, I put something in the bedside table I thought you might…” Lar’a grinned broadly, Patrick’s ears burst into flames, and Serihk choked on his drink. “Enjoy.”
Patrick blinked a few times, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “That was nice of you.”
“I thought so.” Lar’a released him and tossed her head at Fal’ran. “Someone’s waiting for you.”
Face still burning, Patrick turned back to the far side of the room to see Fal’ran watching him with a raised brow. Bryant flashed him a knowing smile as he passed, but at that point Patrick’s face had topped out on temperature.
Fal’ran leaned in and scented Patrick’s neck once he was close enough. “Do I even want to know what she said to you?”
“More like what she didn’t say.” Patrick rolled his eyes and positioned himself with his back to the others to avoid their teasing glances. “You having a nice time?”
“What’s not to enjoy?” Fal’ran shrugged and sipped his half-full wineglass. He’d only nursed a few drinks, leaving him as sober as Patrick. “War averted and you’re not dead on your feet.”
Patrick grimaced. “Sorry I've been such poor company lately.”
“Don’t be.” Fal’ran waved the apology away with his glass. He set it down and grabbed Patrick’s shoulders. “You were a little busy saving a species.”
Patrick pursed his lips. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“Saving a few species, depending on how the war went.” Fal’ran stepped close enough for Patrick to feel the heat of his body. “You’re a goddamn hero, Patrick Smith.”
“That’s enough,” Patrick tried to push Fal’ran away, but Fal’ran stood his ground and lifted his lip with a hint of challenge. Patrick’s heart skipped at that look, before thundering in his chest when Fal’ran dipped his head to growl in Patrick’s ear.
“I want to take you out of here.”
“We don’t always get everything we want.” Patrick turned his head to whisper back.
“But give me this.” Fal’ran ran his hands from Patrick’s shoulders to his hips. “I’ve been so fucking patient.”
Patrick’s lips curled into a smile. “You have, actually.”
Fal’ran hummed. “I really have.”
“Then get going.” Bold in the way only battle and Fal’ran’s interest made him, Patrick nipped the shell of Fal’ran’s ear. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Fal’ran responded instantly, spinning on his heel, and leaving the library. Patrick forced himself to take a breath and savored the view of Fal’ran, so eager to obey him. He picked up Fal’ran’s discarded glass and drained it, knowing he was making Fal’ran wait for him just outside. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?
