Martin was flirting. Successfully. With a man.
Douglas couldn't decide which part of the previous statement astonished him the most. He was still struggling to wrap his head around the idea when Arthur's sympathetic voice cut in through his musings.
"Oh, Douglas. Why don't you tell him?"
He only raised a questioning eyebrow, willing his fingers to loosen their grip on the glass of apple juice that was sitting before him on the counter. "Whom should I tell what, pray?"
"Well, that you fancy Skip. He really doesn't get it, you know."
Douglas was about to refute that ridiculous theory, but the words somehow died in his throat; Arthur was quite right, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.
Now he definitely needed something stronger than apple juice. Too bad that he wasn't allowed to have it.
xxx
Martin stumbled into the hotel room they were sharing far earlier than Douglas was expecting. Too bad for the other guy, he supposed.
"Is it possible that sir has had a little drink?" he asked noncommittally when the Captain slumped onto the bed, not bothering to change out of his uniform.
"Yep. Didn't work though."
"Alcohol doesn't really help chatting people up, I'm afraid."
"Don't wanna chat people up," Martin mumbled into the pillow. "Just the one."
Douglas sighed and retrieved the captain's hat from where it had fallen off the bed. "Then you should probably try for a different approach."
"No use. He's not interested."
It figured that Martin would be a maudlin drunk; quite the opposite of Arthur's terrifying cheerfulness when under the influence.
"Are we still talking about the guy you met at the bar?" he enquired as an afterthought.
"Don't be silly, Douglas. You know. You always know."
He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Is it someone I know?"
Martin's fingers were now playing with the hem of his first officer's sleeve. Then the younger man looked into his eyes, and what he saw there took Douglas' breath completely away.