Page 13 of Lunar Blackout

I have a plan.

My last-minute request was met, and I’ve been hiding it from Iolo since launch.

We communicate with ground control as we fall into our lunar orbit, then both move into the main body of the shuttle and open the exterior hatches, allowing us to view the surface fully.

It. Is. Magnificent.

“Spitfire, this is Ground Control. We predict that your lunar blackout will be approximately 35 minutes long as you traverse the dark side of the Moon. Enjoy what you are going to see boys, I am only slightly jealous of your view.”

We slowly move away from Earth’s vision, and are cut off from every other human that has ever existed. To be this far out is to be one with the universe, and I am hoping the universe, and the dark side of the Moon, will bring me the confidence I need for this next step.

NINE

IOLO

I can’t help my look of wonderment as I stare out across the dark side of the Moon, seen by a very privileged few. Becoming one of their number is among my proudest achievements. We’ve been in radio blackout with Earth for the last five minutes, and already Winston has vanished to the container sections, where our food and personal items are kept. I use this alone time to think of my parents, and my grandfather. I wouldn’t be here without his encouragement. I say a prayer for him to any god that’s listening, cause where we are, only the divine can hear us.

Winston arrives back. Apparently he couldn’t even wait thirty minutes for a snack as he comes back with a pouch, but with a suspicious grin on his face.

He clears his throat for attention in a joshing way. “Mr Iolo ap Gruff of Wales. A decade ago, I asked you on a date. Unfortunately, due to a Scottish prick, that fell flat, but I thought what would be more romantic than a date overlooking the dark side of the Moon?” He shakes the pouch with a giant cheesy grin that stretches ear to ear.

“You still want to go on a date with me?” I say in a tone that sounds more confused than the joyful feeling in my heart should be. Apparently my face also doesn’t look joyful because Winston is slowly getting a look of dread on his face.

“Shit, have I misinterpreted things? I—”

I push gently off the wall behind me and glide the few feet to be within Winston’s personal space. Then I press my lips to his. The kiss is slow, romantic and passionate, I tease his lips with my tongue and he opens up, letting me feel the heat of his mouth on mine. He doesn’t rush, he doesn’t have any sense of urgency, he is savouring every second of this, and so am I.

I reluctantly leave his mouth as he pulls away to catch his breath. He shakes the pouch at me before gently pushing it in my direction. I catch it and laugh at the contents. “Chocolate-covered freeze-dried strawberries?”

“It was the most romantic thing I could add to my food supplies last minute!” We open the pouch and share them as we look out over the surface of the Moon. It may have been last minute, but he certainly has romanced me more than I could have hoped for.

I glance over at the timer on the monitor above our heads. 20 minutes remain of our blackout. I am a stickler for rules, always been the swot who behaves even when he probably shouldn’t. But right now, I’ve got ten years to catch up on.

I grab hold of Winston’s shoulders and pull myself round until I’m straddling his lap. From there, I pull him in for a kiss. Winston, being the gentleman I know him to be, continues to be romantic and slow, but I want, no, I need more.

I speed up my kiss, moving from passionate to desperate, and I slide my hands under the UBNSA polo shirt clinging to the well-defined muscles of Winston’s body.

He pulls out of the kiss. “Iolo —” I press my lips to him once more and he smiles as I do so. “Iolo,” he pushes out through my kiss. I part and look at him, lust burning in my eyes.

“We can’t.”

“We can.”

“What if comms—”

I look to the clock, “17 minutes.” His eyes follow mine and see what I’m seeing. “And they always underestimate.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my Iolo.”

“Oh, your Iolo is it?” My arousal has gone from 100 to 1000 at the thought of being his.

“My Iolo,” he repeats, more confident than the first declaration, encouraging me to pull off his polo shirt. The contorting of his chiselled torso are enhanced by the low lighting. The darkness between his muscles directs my eyes to wander from his pecs, down his washboard abs ending at the v directing me to his waist band. His well-groomed hair trailing below his UBNSA-issued trousers has my mouth going dry. I wasn’t even sure if it were possible to get an erection in zero gravity, but, yup, can confirm, hard as a rock.

“Well,” I say as I pull off my matching polo shirt, “you’d better put your property to work.”

“Fuck.” Before I know it, Winston is pushing us through the zero gravity, our kissing intensifies, Winston on top of me, gliding through the air like magic, but suddenly my head hits the glass of the observation window, and I have an idea. I reach down and unbuckle his UBNSA-issued cargo trousers, to reveal… a surprising choice of underwear.

“UFO boxer briefs?”