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Smith forced his fists open. He breathed in through his nose and out his mouth. His self-control settled over him and Fal’ran's lower belly pulsed with desire. After a beat, Smith stepped back from Sazahk and crossed his arms. “He’s gonna have to try real hard to absolve himself of that shit.”
“I know that.” Dom—Dominic Turner—retreated far enough from the camera to obscure his face. But Fal’ran didn’t need his face or his scent to read the miserable hunch of his body. “I should go. It was nice to meet you all.”
Only Sazahk replied. “I’ll talk to you soon, Dom.”
Dom disconnected before Sazahk finished.
After a long, tense moment, Bar’in tossed his braid over his shoulder. “He didn’t seem so bad.”
Smith tightened his arms across his chest. “You haven’t seen him in action.” He shook himself and dropped his hands to his hips. “Are you all ready for tomorrow?”
“With Dominic’s help, we are.” Sazahk shoved one of the jury-rigged radios into Smith’s chest. “These are for communicating through the Yelt trees.”
Smith raised an eyebrow and turned the radio around in his hands. “Vibrations through the trunks?”
“Yes.” Sazahk sat on his chair and spun it towards his desk.
Smith eyed Sazahk’s stiff back. “Clever.”
Sazahk didn’t turn around, but his stiffness eased. “Thank you.”
Smith turned to the rest of them. “Gatlungs dulled?”
Fal’ran nodded and ticked off the list, pointing at each item. “Gatlungs dulled, ammo switched out, packs packed, hair done.”
Smith inspected Tar and Bar’in’s intricate braids and quirked his lips at Fal’ran. “Yours isn’t.”
Fal’ran scowled, suddenly wondering if he should have let Bar’in weave his hair into something tamer. “My hair is fine.”
Smith’s smile grew. “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” He jerked his head at the tent entrance. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Fal’ran’s heart thumped, and he hopped to his feet. “Of course.”
“All right everyone.” Smith turned to the rest of the squad as Fal’ran cringed at his own eagerness. “Tomorrow’s a big day, but if nothing goes terribly wrong, then what we do tomorrow will be nothing compared to what we’ll do in the years afterwards. You’re soldiers now. Don’t get bent out of shape the night before a fight.” He paused and surveyed them. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he nodded crisply. “Get some sleep.”
He and Fal’ran stepped out into the muggy jungle air, and Smith led them to the back of the shower block–the most private place in the sea of packed tents. Steam and the sounds of someone’s late shower snuck in before curfew billowed out from halfway down the block, but they stopped far enough away that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
Smith turned to Fal’ran and put his hands in his pockets with a sweet, easy smile. “I wanted to tell you I’m proud of you, Fal’ran.”
Fal’ran’s belly swooped, and Smith’s smile grew.
“You’ve been excellent with Tar and Bar’in and Sazahk this week. I know the three of you haven’t always seen eye to eye—” Smith chuckled when Fal’ran snorted at the understatement “—but I can see you trying.”
Fal’ran shrugged a shoulder, both uncomfortable with the praise and desperate for more. “We’re a team.”
Smith’s blue eyes flashed with pride. “Goddamn right, you are.”
The look in Smith’s eyes lodged in Fal’ran’s chest with a painful intensity, but Fal’ran hadn’t said it only for his approval. Somewhere along the line, it had become the truth.
He struggled through this jungle and this camp with Bar’in and Tar for over a month. He knew their strengths, weaknesses, and limits, and he’d seen them push them. He knew Tar only snored when he slept on his back, and he knew Bar’in could only sleep facing the entryway. He knew Bar’in didn’t want to care and more than that, he didn’t want anyone to know that he did. He knew Tar moved through the world half-blind, with a scentless nose and wary of anyone with power.
He’d never known anyone in his life as intimately as he knew those men.
And Sazahk…well, no one really knew Sazahk, but they all recognized and related to his desperation to belong, though they’d never admit it. He was one of them, too.
So was Smith. Even if he held himself back from them, and back from Fal’ran.
“I’ve been speaking to people about you.” Smith leaned back on the metal wall of the shower stalls.
