He headed to the shower and scrubbed off Hayden’s semen. After he’d shampooed for the second time, he stood in the spray with his head tilted back and eyes closed, just letting the hot water run down his body. And thought about Tyr.

He tried to convince himself that he was beyond a stupid crush. There wasn’t time for unrequited love, only the direct approach. Like, wanna date? Wanna fuck? Yes or no. No flowers, no beating around the freakin’ bush. So what was this that he felt? Love?

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in it. But with someone like Tyr, who’d treated him well and didn’t make it feel like he was being pitied, there was no way it could last.

Or even begin.

He replayed the events of last night in his mind. Tyr giving him the hangover remedy. Tyr putting an arm around him while he put the stuff on his ass.

And then, what had been bothering him about Tyr finally occurred to him in bright, terrible clarity.

Bone blades. He’d felt bone blades through the sleeve of Tyr’s shirt. He’d been drunk, naked, and completely oblivious in the arms of a Nietzschean.

Fuck…

The water ran cold and he jumped out of the shower. He turned on all the heat lamps and huddled in a towel. He couldn’t shake the cold that had suddenly come over him. Tyr was a Nietzschean. Fuck.

What was he going to do? If anything?

It was pretty clear to Harper that Tyr meant more to him than he wanted to admit. He was stuck in a world of extremes, where grey didn’t exist. There was no maybe.

Harper didn’t bother getting dressed; he just tightened the robe around him and left the bathroom.

He had to know if this feeling was mutual because there wasn’t time for regrets.

There was only no.

Or yes.

He picked the lock and crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Then he smacked right into someone.

Harper’s first instinct was to fight. He kicked and made contact but his arm was grabbed and twisted and a hand slapped over his mouth.

“Relax, Harper,” a warm, low voice whispered.

The hand dropped away and Harper’s eyes widened. “Tyr, what the fuck—“

Tyr covered his mouth again.

“The security team is making their rounds. If you don’t want to be caught standing in the hallway with the resident chef, I suggest you lower your voice and come with me. I can create a plausible explanation for being here, Harper. Can you?”

Tyr let him go and went to the elevator. Biting back a sarcastic response, Harper hurried after him.

When the doors had closed, he glared at Tyr. “What the fuck were you doing up there?”

Tyr shrugged. “You were late. I was… concerned.”

Harper snorted. “You? Concerned?”

Tyr looked at him oddly.

The elevator was suddenly very cramped. Harper felt his skin prickling. Tyr’s gaze never left him.

“I know what you are,” Harper said quietly. “Not human.”

The elevator opened at the first floor but neither of them moved.

“I know you’re from Earth,” Tyr said, and stepped out. As the doors began to close, Harper stepped out as well, like an afterthought. Tyr raised an eyebrow. “You’re not scared?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Fuck, yes. But…” Harper shrugged. “I’m not sorry with the way things turned out. And how did you know I was from Earth anyway?”

“The marks on your back,” Tyr said. “They’re scars from typical Nietzschean punishment sessions.”

Harper was sure his heart was going to jump out of his throat and he backed up against the wall. “You recognized them? Meaning… what, you’ve inflicted them on people too?”

Tyr exhaled. “No. I have no desire for slaves. And even if I did… I wouldn’t have a pride for them to serve.”

“A Nietzschean without a pride?” Harper was incredulous, in spite of his current predicament. Tyr growled and locked stares with him. Harper flinched but didn’t back down. “Uh… anyway… I’m leaving tomorrow. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“You were coming all the way down here to say goodbye?” Tyr lifted his arm and the long sleeve slipped back completely now, revealing a wicked set of bone blades.

Harper was mesmerized by the sight of the bone blades. He had to remind himself to breathe.

“You treated me decently. Better than decently. Why? Is there something else?”

“I was curious as to why you came down here last night. And all those nights before.”

“Well… the first night… I was starved. But I liked talking to you. Not to mention you make a killer omelette.”

Tyr laughed, sounding pleased. “I enjoyed your company as well.” He tilted his head and when he spoke again his voice was much gentler. “There’s just one more thing.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Tonight… would you be with me?” Tyr’s gaze was steady.

Harper grinned and took off down the hall to Tyr’s bedroom in response with Tyr close behind. Just as Harper turned on a low light, Tyr growled softly and backed Harper against the wall.

Tyr reached for the tie of Harper’s robe and started pulling at it. Achingly slowly. Harper inhaled sharply as the tie unknotted.

Tyr pushed open Harper’s robe and with the barest edge of his bone blades, grazed Harper’s left nipple. Harper was afraid to breathe. It felt good, better than good, amazing, with every nerve cell in his body straining into that touch, but he could just imagine one slip of the blade splitting him open. Tyr flicked his gaze up to meet his and said, “I won’t hurt you.”

Harper sighed. “In that case, don’t stop…”

Tyr grinned and dropped to his knees. He slid the blade down Harper’s sternum, down his belly, across Harper’s cock; and Harper arched, gasping, hanging onto Tyr for support and ending up grabbing a fistful of braids on his way to the floor.

“Hey, hey, do not get any ideas, Tyr,” Harper said in mock protest as Tyr laughed. “I’m easy, but I’m not that easy!”

Tyr grinned and crawled over him. He leaned into Harper, kissing him delicately, and Harper shivered at the press of cold leather on his bare skin and Tyr’s warm lips. Tyr inched his hands down Harper’s sides and even though Tyr could probably feel each rib through his skin, he didn’t say anything, for which Harper was grateful. Tyr may have considered Harper a skinny kludge, but at least he didn’t say it. He hated being reminded he wasn’t strong enough.

“You’re brooding,” Tyr said, kissing his neck. Tyr’s braids slithered over his skin.

“Me? Compared to you, this is merely pondering. You are the brooding king, I swear… ohhh…”

Tyr licked his earlobe.

“Luckily, I’m easily distracted,” Harper said.

Tyr grinned and stood up. He unzipped his vest and peeled it off, and Harper was impressed… hell, he was agape. He fought a growing urge to find out if that chest was as lickable as it looked. Tyr tossed the vest and started in on his pants when Harper recovered his wits and got up. Gathering his courage he hooked his fingers in Tyr’s waistband and said, “Allow me.”

He slid the zipper down, grinning up at Tyr, and slid one hand in while tugging the pants past Tyr’s really nice ass.

Harper got really focused then, intent on pulling Tyr’s pants off, and stroking him off, and trying to figure out how Tyr was managing to slide his robe off at the same time.

“Bed?” Tyr suggested between gasps.

“Bed,” Harper agreed, as Tyr started tasting his shoulder.

Harper was on the bed and Tyr was naked, atop him, in moments. Tyr sat up and took hold of his left gauntlet.

“Watch,” he said. Slowly he pulled down the zipper that lay against the inside of his forearm and pulled the gauntlet off.

Harper’s eyes widened. He could see where the sheaves of bone jutted out from Tyr’s arm.

Harper’s heart was racing again; Tyr could feel it jackrabbiting against his thighs. He touched Harper’s chest with his palm, trying to calm him.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” Tyr said softly. “Do you believe me?”

Harper swallowed. “I didn’t think those things could cause anything but a world of hurt.”

Tyr held out his right forearm. “I’ll prove it to you. Go ahead.”

Harper took Tyr’s arm in one hand and pulled the zipper open with the other. He noticed Tyr shuddering as he wriggled the gauntlet off the blades.

Curious, he held Tyr’s arm carefully and licked the skin close to the bone. Tyr sucked in a breath.

“Does it hurt?” Harper said.

Tyr smiled at him. “It doesn’t hurt. Although… it’s a very sensitive area for Nietzscheans.”

“Trade secrets!” Harper crowed. “Where else is a sensitive area for Nietzscheans?”

“Well, here,” Tyr said, kissing Harper’s lips. “Here.” He licked Harper’s right nipple and blew on it and Harper writhed happily. “Here.” He moved lower and sucked the tip of Harper’s very interested cock.

Harper arched into that moist heat. Tyr took him deeper and began using the barest scrape of his teeth to wring moans out of him.

Harper squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to come hard, and what a way to go, but suddenly Tyr released his cock.

“Oh, I guess you’re into torture, aren’t you?” he said with a frustrated laugh, flopping his head back onto the pillow. A moment later, he opened his eyes. “Uh… Tyr?”

Tyr was staring at him. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know you didn’t.” Harper propped himself up on an elbow and curled a hand into Tyr’s hair. “I like being teased into the next galaxy as much as the next guy. I’m not going to break, okay?” He waited till he got a nod from Tyr, then flopped back onto the bed. “So where were we? Oh right, you were bringing me to the edge of the greatest orgasm in the life of Seamus Harper when you stopped.”

“I stopped because I wanted you in me when you came.”

Harper was certain he would have come just from hearing those words coming from that mouth but the small inflection in Tyr’s voice tempered his reaction just enough. Still, though, he had to think seriously unsexy thoughts… like Hayden naked… like all the fat FTA bastards naked…

“But?” he said, proud that his voice only squeaked a bit.

“Are you sure you want to?”

Harper gestured at his cock, on which conjuring images of slimy, corrupt, naked officials was having little effect. “I think you can take that as a hell yes, when, and how many times. But we need lube. And…” His voice trailed off.

Tyr understood. “I have nanobots for that purpose. And… as I recall, both your employer and mine require certain documents attesting to your state of health?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Lubrication by itself will be fine, then. I have…”

“I’m on it!” Before Tyr could say another word, Harper was off the bed and in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards. Tyr smiled and began turning down the bed.

Harper’s clamoring footsteps heralded his return a moment later. He skidded to a stop just inside the doorway with a long-necked bottle in his hands. He stared at Tyr. There was someone who could snap him into convenient bite-sized pieces. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Tyr seemed to sense his apprehension and extended a hand.

“Touch me?”

Harper took Tyr’s hand and knee-walked into the middle of the bed. Tyr followed suit. Painfully aware of his loud breathing, Harper raised an unsteady hand to Tyr’s hip and stroked the soft skin there with his thumb. He leaned forward, bracing himself with that hand and fit his lips around Tyr’s left nipple and sucked gently. Eyes up to gauge Tyr’s reaction. He ran his teeth across the peaked flesh and moved to the other.

Harper put one of Tyr’s arms around his waist and Tyr got the idea, holding Harper closely as he rose higher on his knees to nip at Tyr’s collarbone and neck.

Finally, Harper pulled back and looked at Tyr with bright eyes… then he laughed and pushed him onto his back. “You’re too tall to kiss.”

Harper straddled his hips and leaned over him, warm and compact, and kissed him deeply. He slid one hand between them and stroked Tyr’s cock before shifting down Tyr’s body and throating it.

Tyr moaned softly and Harper felt a hand in his hair, cupping his skull - and again there was that flash of fear that Harper forcibly pushed away. He took Tyr’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers and the fear was replaced by a different kind of adrenaline rush, just as intense but hot instead of cold.

Harper gave Tyr’s cock one more stroke with his mouth and looked up at Tyr.

“Turn over,” he said, moving so Tyr had room.

Tyr obliged with a smile, settling on his stomach with his arms folded under his chin. His back shimmered with sweat.

Harper reached for the flask of oil and slipped out the cork. He dribbled a small amount into the small of Tyr’s back, watching as it pooled there, perfect. Tyr made a contented noise in his throat. Harper slid two fingers through the oil, down, and finally eased them into Tyr’s ass knuckle deep.

Tyr shifted slightly.

Harper bit his lip. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Tyr looked over his shoulder. “Well,” he said with a grin, “I could use something bigger.”

“Bigger? Already?”

“Now, Harper?”

“Now? Uh, okay…” Harper withdrew his fingers and Tyr turned onto his side, eyes glinting mischievously.

“How would you like me?”

Harper blinked. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Harper licked his lips nervously. He felt weird giving instructions. “On your front is fine.”

“Hands and knees?” Tyr demonstrated, still grinning, and Harper’s mouth dropped open. “Or… like this?” Tyr dropped to his elbows and suddenly there was a perfect, smooth ass waving in Harper’s face.

Harper grabbed the oil and slicked himself up. Tyr chuckled and Harper had to smile too. If Meiko were to see him like this she’d laugh. It wasn’t performance anxiety, but it was nervousness, just of a different kind. This was Tyr, not some jerk in a back alley or some customer with thrones to spend; who wanted him not for his body, or what he could fix, but all of him. It was a scary thought. Scary and good at the same time.

Harper knelt behind Tyr and, after just one more moment of hesitation, slid in as gently as he could. Harper gasped. Gentle was going to be tough because all he wanted was to sink into that heat; and he could feel Tyr shuddering beneath him, exhaling fully as Harper pushed in deeper.

Harper slid his hands from Tyr’s ass up his sides. Rubbing his sweat- and oil-slicked back, Harper said, “Are you okay?”

Tyr growled low in his throat and pushed back against Harper.

“Um… was that a no?”

“Harper,” Tyr said, sounding strained, “I may not be human, but I’m not inhuman. If you don’t move…”

“Okay, that sounds like a yes…”

Harper clutched Tyr’s hips and drove in, as Tyr writhed, moaning and taking Harper deeper as they tried to find a suitable rhythm.

Harper’s gasps became more ragged and his world contracted until all that remained were the places they touched: Tyr’s hips and ass, Harper’s cock, Tyr’s back wherever Harper nipped and kissed it.

Harper thrust once more and came hard, seeing stars and colors on the insides of his eyelids; Tyr moaned and shot hot semen all over the bed and Harper’s hand.

They fell sideways onto the bed and lay catching their breath for a moment before Harper wriggled around and kissed Tyr gently. “Thanks.”

“For what? I guarantee you that this was something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s topped a Nietzschean.” Harper sounded slightly stunned.

Tyr laughed and hugged Harper, settling on top of him. “Well now you do.” It was then that Tyr realized what he’d been smelling. “Harper, what did you get from the kitchen?”

“Um, a bottle of cooking oil, I saw it in the pantry when I was scavenging and thought that would work pretty good.”

Tyr picked up the bottle and held it up to the light. “Do you know what this is?”

“Um… oil?”

“It’s imported from Sinti. Used for only the finest dishes and occasions.”

“Um…”

Harper was getting nervous. Tyr could see the small triangle of skin throbbing at the base of Harper’s throat.

Tyr pulled the stopper from the flask. “The going price on the black market is ninety thrones.”

“Fuck, ninety thrones?” Harper was squirming in earnest now. “Fuck, I didn’t know… Tyr? What are you doing?”

Tyr was tipping the flask. The barest trickle of oil spilled onto Harper’s belly and navel.

“Isn’t that a waste?”

Tyr looked at Harper from under his lashes. “I never said it was a waste. In fact, I’ve never had the opportunity to put it to such good use.” Tyr was smiling now and started rubbing his fingers through the oil. He slid an oil-glossed finger into Harper, riveted to Harper’s statement, and after that momentary discomfort, Harper opened his eyes and said, “More.”

He poured more oil into his hands and, with Harper whining softly, teased another finger into Harper’s ass. More oil, more fingers… Harper was squirming now, impatient, impaled on four of Tyr’s fingers.

Tyr slicked himself up one-handed, thrusting gently with his other hand. He wanted to plunge in recklessly but he knew, but couldn’t explain why exactly, he was so determined to be different. Different from Hayden, different from every bad experience Harper had ever had.

He pulled his fingers out and waited… waited till Harper was whimpering for his cock, begging for it, and then he couldn’t wait any longer; he pushed Harper’s knees towards his chest and pressed into him.

They stayed like that for a moment until Tyr was sure Harper was all right, until Harper started thrusting up against him.

“Please,” Harper gasped as he writhed, hard again, begging again, trying to take more of Tyr’s cock than his body could handle.

Tyr leaned over him, changing the angle, curling a hand behind Harper’s head to kiss him. Harper moaned against his mouth. Tyr thrust deeper, sliding over Harper’s prostate, and pressed his fingers into the soft skin behind Harper’s cock. Harper’s entire body seized with orgasm and hot semen splashed over them. Harper pumped his own cock, wringing the aftershocks from his body.

Tyr grabbed both of Harper’s knees and pushed them to Harper’s chest. He drove into Harper savagely, indulging in Harper’s lush body. Harper’s name was in the howl that ripped from Tyr’s throat as he came.

He released Harper’s knees and opened his eyes to find Harper wide-eyed and open-mouthed, breathing harshly and staring at him.

“Don’t say it,” Harper said.

“What?”

“Don’t ask me if you were too rough, because if you do I’m not going to compliment you on your award-winning technique. Besides I like it rough sometimes.”

Harper sighed and smiled, looking incredibly relaxed. Tyr pulled out and despite what Harper said, he was relieved there wasn’t any blood. Tyr lay down beside him and used one of the blankets to wipe them both off. He chucked the blanket off to the side and dragged the covers over them.

“I’ve never seen a Nietzschean come before.”

Harper wriggled closer and tucked his head under Tyr’s chin.

“You haven’t? Not even…”

“Nope, not even. They always took me from behind. I guess they didn’t want to be reminded they were fucking a kludge.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing,” Tyr said and he knew Harper smiled at that. He ran his fingers through Harper’s hair and Harper leaned into his touch. That tonight was the last time he’d ever see Harper caused a strange ache in his stomach he didn’t quite understand. Or perhaps he didn’t care to.

The quiet settled around them as he listened to Harper’s breathing deepen and even out. He slipped a pillow under Harper’s head and slid out of bed and went to the drapes. He twitched them aside and opened the window, letting the soft night air spill into the room. Looking out at the ocean that Harper was so fond of, he felt content for the first time in a long while.

Harper sighed in his sleep and turned onto his stomach. Tyr watched as the blankets skimmed off his back and his skin glowed a golden cream in the moonlight. The scars didn’t matter. Harper was a survivor. As Tyr sat back down on the bed, Harper opened his eyes.

“Hi,” Harper said, blinking.

“The answer to your question is yes.”

“And what was my question?”

“If I’d ever done anything that I loathed but did it anyway, because there were no other options.”

“What was it?”

“This.”`

Harper lifted his head, awake now, but Tyr caressed the side of Harper’s face with his fingers. “You’re still nervous.” He smiled gently. “I don’t mean what’s happened between us.”

“Oh. Just checking.”

“I meant working for the FTA.”

“You mean being a chef isn’t a satisfying line of work?”

“They didn’t hire me because I could cook a soufflé. Sometimes people like Hayden are in need of… protection from his enemies. And sometimes they prefer a more… offensive approach.”

“You’re…” Harper’s eyes widened but only for a moment. “Why? Don’t Nietzscheans have choices in life?”

“Not a Nietzschean without a pride. You’re not surprised?”

“I’m not really surprised by much anymore.” Tyr watched the light in Harper’s eyes change, and he was suddenly too young to be so old. “Although there was one thing that I wouldn’t have ever guessed in a million years.”

“And what’s that?”

“Being here with you.”

Harper put an arm around Tyr and pulled him to his mouth. Gentle, sweet kisses soon became urgent. “Can I fuck you again?” Harper breathed, and Tyr murmured a string of “Yes”s into Harper’s mouth.

Tyr stretched out on his side and Harper curled up behind him and pushed carefully inside. He wrapped his hand around Tyr’s cock and began stroking it, swirling his thumb across the tip. Harper rocked up hungrily and Tyr was caught up in that dizzying current until there was nothing but that heat, that connection surging and wracking him with pleasure while Harper shuddered and followed him over the edge.

Harper trailed his fingers across Tyr’s chest and sighed. His heart was still racing. “I can’t stay any longer.”

“Breakfast?”

“I wish I could. You have no idea.”

Tyr supposed maybe he did.

Harper studied him for a moment, then smiled affectionately and kissed him. Tyr sank into the heat and clutch of Harper’s mouth, and too soon, Harper drew away and put on his robe, flashed him another quick grin, and vanished out the door for the last time.

He listened to Harper pad down the hallway and take the elevator upstairs. Harper’s stampeding heartbeat was lost in the rumble of the machinery.
 
 

Harper dropped his bags in his bunk and headed down the hall to Meiko’s office. She was on the phone making appointments. Harper fished out the money from his pocket and dropped it on the table.

Meiko covered the mouth piece and looked at the money, then Harper.

“I’m back,” he said.

“Good. I’ll put you back on the rotation. How’d they treat you?”

“Fine.”

Meiko took the stack of money, counted it, flipped open the ledger and wrote down the sum. Then she peeled Harper’s cut from the stack and handed it to him. Harper tucked the money away and left Meiko to her phone call.
 
 

he next night, Tyr was surprised to hear footsteps outside the kitchen. The doors swung open and Hayden entered, dressed in a dark robe and slippers.

“Mr. Anasazi.”

He took up a seat on the stool that Harper used to use. Tyr tried very hard not to be annoyed.

“Mr. Hayden. What can I do for you?”

Tyr also tried to ignore Harper’s scent that still clung to Hayden’s robe.

“I was hoping to take advantage of your culinary skills. What do you have for a touch of insomnia?”

“I know just the thing.” Tyr pulled the blender and several ingredients from the cupboards. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“You could say that. I suppose I got used to the company. He went back to… wherever he came from this afternoon. Now what was his name…”

Tyr quirked an eyebrow. “Harper?”

“Harper, yes, that was it, I suppose. He was a nice fuck. Did you ever get to meet him?”

“Briefly,” Tyr said, and started the blender so he wouldn’t have to hear Hayden’s irritating voice anymore and be reminded of what he’d lost.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

“I’ll take it from here.”

Harper didn’t recognize him at first. Just another Nietzschean with a gun, another one of Ratface’s double-crosses. But he’d know that voice anywhere.

He asked Rev about him, just in case he was delusional. But Rev only confirmed what he already knew. It was him.

He wanted to talk to him so badly, but then there was the small problem of getting dragged off by Ratface, getting cured of some pesky measles by a hot warship, listening to Dylan’s very impressive speech, and having the longest, hottest shower known to mankind.

At the end of the day, Harper was in bed but not tired. He was thinking about Tyr.

A lot could have happened in eight years. Maybe Tyr didn’t even recognize him. Or remember him.

Harper had all but convinced himself of his forgetability when the doors to his new quarters opened.

Shit… he hadn’t locked the doors. Old instincts kicked in and he rolled off the side of the bed, groping around on the floor for a weapon. His hand closed around the soldering wand. When the figure walked into the light thrown off by his lava lamps, he sighed in relief.

“You left your doors unlocked.”

“Thanks for the heart attack, Beka. What, you couldn’t knock first?”

Harper pulled himself back into bed and Beka sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“I just wanted to see how you guys were settling in before I hit the sack myself.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look kinda spooked.”

“You know how I get. New place, new bed, new shipmates.”

“About that… I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you okay with Tyr?”

“Tyr? What about Tyr?”

“Um… you noticed the bone blades, right? He’s a Nietzschean, genius.” She smiled at him. “I’m serious, Harper. Are you okay with him?”

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Okay. Just wanted to make sure. If you need anything…”

“I know. Thanks, mom.”

Beka rolled her eyes and took a friendly swipe at Harper’s head.

“Night.”

Harper tried to settle into bed again but sleep wouldn’t come. He shivered at the thought of spending however long it took to renew a Commonwealth on an albeit large warship with Tyr, who didn’t remember him. He thought about talking to Beka but she wouldn’t understand. Hell, he’d never told anyone about Tyr. Maybe it was best this way.

He put on some socks and wandered down the hallway, trying to remember which way was the Officer’s mess.
 
 

Ten minutes later, he was shoulder-deep in the fridge, pondering the choices. Everything looked so good, he didn’t know where to start. There was also the small matter of not recognizing most of the items. There were green things, leafy things, things in cartons, things in jars…

“You shouldn’t leave the door open like that,” came a voice from behind, and Harper startled, smacking his head on the fridge as he whipped around.

“Tyr!”

Tyr was leaning against the counter, head slightly tilted.

Tyr’s gaze swept him from foot to head, and Harper could feel it, and he was suddenly eight years younger, in Tyr’s bed, having his body mapped with Nietzschean intensity. He remembered feeling like he was being etched into Tyr’s memory, and it was a safe, good feeling. Nobody had ever made him feel that way before, or since then.

Tyr looked… amazing. Eight years probably meant nothing to him. He was more sculpted, stronger, and Harper hoped he didn’t look as stunned as he felt.

“You look well,” Tyr said.

“So do you.” A strange silence fell between them that Harper was compelled to break. “I was, uh… looking for a snack before bed. I didn’t know where to begin.” Harper wondered if Tyr could tell that his heart was pounding away in his throat. Scratch that… of course he could.

Tyr folded his arms across his chest. The pose would have looked wholly threatening without the small grin on Tyr’s face.

“Would you like me to make you an omelette?”

Harper smiled. “Okay.”

And then he did.
 
 

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