Page 80 of The Alien Soldier


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“Sazahk, you have faith in that translation module?” Patrick pointed to the lines of code on Sazahk’s tablet.

“Utter faith.”

“Can you get it downloaded onto a few Qeshian military tech earpieces if I get them to you?”

A disdainful look and a plume of blue passed over Sazahk’s face, but he nodded. “Wouldn’t take long.”

“Alright.” Patrick clapped his hands. He looked as enthusiastic as ever, but he smelled all wrong. “I’ll get my hands on five for you and I’ll inform the brass of our decision. Everyone have their orders?”

Fal’ran clamped down on his frustration and nodded along with the rest of his team. Did he have to fight Patrick’s feelings out of him on everything?

Patrick snorted with a light amusement that broke through whatever was wrong with him. “One day you’ll all say ‘yes, sir’ like you’re supposed to.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that!” Bar’in called after him as he escaped the lab. Once the door shut, Bar’in sighed, shook his head, and gave Fal’ran a look. “Are you going to deal with him?”

“Yeah, I got him.” Fal’ran rubbed over his forehead and at the tightness in his temple. “Later, when he’s had some time.”

“To really think himself into a hole?” Bar’in raised an eyebrow as he went back to sorting clips and bullets.

“To cool down.”

To get out of his fight-or-flight mode. To see that his team had followed his orders, that they could follow his orders, that they’d be fine, no matter what he seemed to think.

“Come on.” Fal’ran motioned to Tar and opened the lab door. “Let’s go get the ammo before the Menace takes it all.”

* * *

Fal’ran didn’t see Patrick for the rest of the day, but, judging by his own sporadic frustration, that was a good thing.

He spent the day preparing with his team. They’d be called in the moment Insects were detected on the south-eastern edge of the Dead Zone, and they’d be ready to go in that moment.

And the whole day he swung between frustration with Patrick and a jumble of other feelings he’d never experienced. Patience and compassion for a man that was hurting were new for Fal’ran, but they battled with his instinctual anger. One second, he was furious at Patrick’s avoidance, at his willingness to leave them, at his inane justifications and hangups. But in the next, his heart ached with a calm understanding and the rage gave way.

By the time Fal’ran walked into the weight room late in the evening, finding only a single human laid out on a bench under the barbell, he no longer bristled for a fight.

“Hey.”

Patrick’s body pulled tight at the sound of Fal’ran’s voice. The loaded barbell over his chest shook before Patrick sagged loose and racked it. “Hey.”

Fal’ran walked to the head of the bench and put his hands over the human’s on the bar. “Been looking for you.”

“You found me.” Patrick’s lips quirked as he looked up at Fal’ran from the flat of his back. “Couldn’t have been that hard.”

“It wasn’t.” Fal’ran smiled back down at him and rubbed his thumb over Patrick’s rough hands.

It was easy for them now, being alone like this, and Fal’ran was glad he’d let go of his frustration before entering this space with him. They’d spent every night of the past two weeks together. Sometimes they went straight to sleep. Sometimes they talked. Usually, they did more than that. Nothing beyond what they could do with their hands and their mouths, but it was all the easiest, sweetest things Fal’ran had done in his life.

Not that it was never rough or painful, but in only the best ways.

Something along the same lines but with much darker implications must have gone through Patrick’s mind. He frowned and his forearms tensed as he clenched the barbell. “Did your father really beat you?”

“Yes.” Fal’ran reached for the half plates stacked near the bench. “You can take more weight.”

“Is it—” That familiar blush started up Patrick's throat. “When we—”

Fal’ran interrupted him with a snort and the clang of sliding a plate into place. “No. How rough we are in bed together is not the same thing as being beaten by my father.”

Patrick craned his neck around to follow him as Fal’ran walked to the other side of the barbell. “But I’m—”

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