Night Traveller (Gay Romantic Sci-Fi)

Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

Lieutenant Oliver glowered at the man he'd just thrown to the ground. He was still fuming. He might be the fucking governor of the fucking universe but he wasn't going to apologise to him. Not when he'd just had the unmitigated gall to take him for a male whore. 

"I'm sorry about that. My mistake," Callan looked up ruefully at the man still glaring down at him. He looked deeply offended, not at all ready for them both to have a good laugh about it. Was he an om or not? The way he had smiled at him he had certainly thought so, but he was pretty certain they didn't let oms into the Patrol. Whether he was or not they had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot. 

Callan scrambled up hastily. "Let's take this from the top again," he suggested, brushing off his clothes. He held out his hand. "I'm Ryan Callan, the current governor of Asra." 

Still tight lipped, at least the Lieutenant shook his hand briefly before dropping it as fast as he could. "Lieutenant Mike Oliver. Sir." 

Callan winced at the 'sir' but didn't protest. "Let me buy you a drink by way of an apology, Lieutenant," he offered. "It's my birthday, I hope you can forgive me."  

Oliver wanted to refuse and retire gracefully to his room but he realised that would look petty in the face of the other man's apparent generosity. "Of course, sir," he answered with chilly politeness. 

The governor turned to include Serra Yoshida, summoning up a smile. "Come on. Let's all go and get a drink, this is a party!"  

Dane watched the three of them re-enter the room with amused anticipation. He really hoped Ryan had made a pass, ruffled those sleek black feathers. He would have given a month's pay to have been an invisible witness to the scene above. He strolled over to them. "So you found the Governor then?" he asked Oliver, his eyes brimming with mischief.  

If he was hoping for a reaction, he was disappointed. The Lieutenant's face was blandly civil. All he got was a polite, "Yes, I did. Thank you." 

But Ryan's reaction more than made up for it. "I'll kill you later," he hissed in a low voice, a pleasant smile on his face as he shouldered past him to get to the bar. Dane buried his grin in his glass. Yes! That should stop any risk of a friendly relationship developing between the two of them. A man had to protect himself and his territory, after all. 

Somehow Callan got through the evening, making an effort to be sociable to everyone and trying to stop flicking sidelong glances at Mike Oliver. God he was hot! Why did he have to be a damn Patrol officer? He noticed Oliver circulating out of the corner of his eye, having a quick word with everyone, sipping his single drink for the night, before he took his eyes off him for a couple of minutes and he vanished. He scanned the room feverishly but he was gone, back to his room no doubt, without bothering to say good night to him. 

He shook his head, trying to stop thinking about the Lieutenant. It was probably for the best, he wouldn't have known what to say to him in any case. Obviously 'sorry' wasn't going to be enough.  

Dane had been watching him for the last few minutes from his place at the bar. He came over, a glass in each hand, and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Forget him!" he ordered, pulling him close so he could murmur in his ear. "He's not your type. Here, have this instead." He thrust a glass into Ryan's hand. "If you want some company later tonight, I'm available." He licked Ryan's ear and stood back, grinning, only half joking. 

"Very funny," said Ryan grumpily as he took the glass. "I haven't forgiven you yet, you know." He took a gulp of his drink. "I thought he was one of your fancy men. God." 

Dane's grin got even wider. "Oh no! Don't tell me, you made a pass and got slapped down?" 

"Worse," said Ryan gloomily. "I kissed him." 

Dane paused for a second, his glass in mid air. "And how did that work out?"  

"About as well as you'd expect. He threw me to the ground, like I was a novice, some sort of fancy martial arts. I'll probably have bruises in the morning," he added, then winced. He could feel one starting on his hip now. 

"Poor old man," teased Dane, with false sympathy. "Let that be a lesson to you, never try and pick up guys in uniform, they're simply not our kind." He urged him towards the bar. "Come and drown your sorrows, I hear Serra Yoshida has opened a bottle of the really good stuff , let's make sure we get some before the hordes discover it."  

Ryan shrugged philosophically and followed him. It seemed like a good idea as any. After all he still had a few more hours to celebrate. 

XXX 

Mike Oliver lay on his bed in the dark, his arms crossed beneath his head, staring at the ceiling. He was still running through the events of that evening in his mind. He was no longer quite as offended as he had been initially. In fact, if it hadn't been for his profession, he wondered if he would have taken the insult so much to heart. Of course, he hadn't been in uniform at the time, but still, he was a soldier for god's sake, not a pleasure toy. 

It was a long time since he had been kissed. The wayward thought slipped in, despite his efforts. Too long. 

What he really wanted to do was go back and find Ryan Callan, throw him to the ground again and jump on him. Hold his hands trapped above his head and teach him a few lessons, the main one being that he wasn't a whore to be taken at his whim. He allowed himself an extremely indulgent few minutes, imagining in lurid detail exactly what he would do to him. Then he sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. It wasn't going to happen in a million years. 

As a Patrol Lieutenant, and the officer in charge of the station on Asra, he had to be on his best behaviour, above reproach. Keep an official distance between himself and everyone else here. He pictured the look of utter horror on Captain Foster's face if he ever allowed himself to get personally involved with the flamboyant Governor of Asra. A man with purple hair and transparent clothes. He would never get a job on a space ship. He would be extremely lucky to stay in the Patrol at all. He sighed again. For the first time in years he almost wished he was a civilian. Maybe a cold shower would help.

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