a/n: Book tag: "Starship: Pirate" by Mike Resnick. Includes: Luthor Chadwick & Esteban Morales &Vladimir Sokolov, no slash just drunken friendship.

~Esteban Morales was alone, until Luthor Chadwick and Vladimir Sokolov sat down at his table~

Making Friends

Esteban Morales sighed, his hands around the now empty coffee cup. It felt like that was all he ever did anymore. He sat alone in the mess hall, while everyone else was at their posts. He didn't have a post, he didn't have anything. He was an outsider among friends. He came from a yacht that he knew, to a warship that he didn't. Everything he knew, everyone he'd once known, was either destroyed or dead.

He came to the Teddy R because, 1) he didn't want to get chori-whatever-it-was (though he still wasn't sure whether it was a real thing; not like he wanted to chance it anyways); 2) he was too young and scared to die; and 3)he got recruited by Wilson Cole (he was a hero!). But Esteban had only got to pilot him down to Riverwind and back again—and that was basically all the interaction the two of them had.

After that, he was ingnored—by Cole, and by the rest of the crew. He may have been only eighteen, but he was eager to help and willing to learn. But no one cared about him, so he was left to his own devices—which only carried him from his quarters (which had nothing of his in them), and the mess hall (where he always sat alone). He couldn't understand. The youngest of the crew—besides himself—was only for years older than him. Was it because he became a pirate instead of an officer in the Navy? If it was, then that was stupid, because if he'd been in the Navy, Esteban was certain that he never would have met anyone aboard the Teddy R—so it was a good thing that he'd become a pirate instead.

But no one else seemed greatful. At least when he was on the Achilles and under Windsail, the other pirates didn't ignore him completely—at least they talked to him! Mybe it would have been better if he'd choosen to be dropped off at the next oxigenated planet they came across. Anything would have been better than this complete ignorance.

He just wished that somebody, anybody, had consideration to even just mutter a greeting in passing. He craved conversation. He sighed, and desided that he would order another cup and then go back to his quarters where he would lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling blankly until he fell asleep.

He just ordered his second and last coffee when two officers entered the mess hall. He watched as the walked to an empty table and seemed to see him for the first time, they exchanged words and grins, and changed their course—heading straight for him!

Esteban instantly sraightened from his dejected slump, grasping his hot coffee mug in a tight grip as he forced himself not to watch them, to not make eye conntact. He could see them in his pariphary as they weaved around the tables. He grew more nervous the closer the got and didn't alter courses. He know that he longed for conversation, but this was to sudden! He'd just made the execuative decsion to get up a leave, when the two men sat at the table across from him before his hands could even leave his cup.

"Hey, mind if we sit?" Asked the one with the one that was six-two, with light blond hair, blue eyes and light stubble on his chin.

"Uh..." Esteban stared openly at them.

"I'm Vladimir Sokolov," they light-blond introduced himself.

"And I'm Luthor Chadwick," the other man said, smiling at him. He was hardly an inch sorter than Vladimir, with darker-blond hair and brown eyes, and a slightly more muscualr build. "You're Esteban Morales, right, the kid from the pirate ship?"

Esteban looked between the two men, before his eyes widened with recognition—"You were on the boarding party! And you're the guy who lead Captain Windsail to the airlift that killed him!" he exclaimed, and then he suddenly realized what this could mean. He sunk back into his chair as he looked between the two blonds as they watched him, wishing he could push through the back of his chair and fall through the floor. "Look," he started nervously, "I'm not looking for any trouble..."

Vladimir glanced at him buddy with a raised brow.

"Esteban, we don't want any trouble either." Luthor explained in a friendly tone. "We just wanted to talk,"

"Yeah," Vladimir agreed. "And have a few drinks!" He touched the floating menu at the center of the table, and a few seconds later, three glasses appeared, filled half-way with an amber liquid. Vladimir took his glass and held in help, and Luthor copied the action. "To new friendship!"

"To new friendship!" Luthor repeated the cheer, and the two clinked glasses, but didn't upend the liquid, but instead both turned their gazes to Esteban, who had yet to make a move.

"Aren'tcha gonna drink with us, Esteban?" Vladimir asked. "To our new friendship?"

Esteban swallowed as he looked at him. He wasn't really much of a drinker; he'd watch the other pirates do it and lose their senses and sometimes ever their memories, and he didn't ever want to feel like that. But as he looked between the two mean with such friendly expression on their faces, and as the two very few who had spoken to him—he didn't want to rub them the wrong way and make them enemies for no reason. So with a shaking hand he took the glass and clinked it with the others.

"To new friendship!" he repeated.

He watched as the two officer, did theirs in on swallow, and put the glass to his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut as the warm liquid burned down his throat, and sent him choking. He set the glass down after his coughing fit, his eyes watering, to find the men grinning.

"Not much of a drinker, my friend?" Vladimir chuckled. "We'll soon cure that... another round!"

Luthor ordered the drinks, and feeling a little sick, Esteban took up the same cheer. This time, it went down a little smoother and a fuzziness started at the edge of his brain.

Vladimir laughed. "Again!"

Esteban took the next glass, and it went down smooth and warm. He was feeling absolutley marvalious now; the wieght from his shoulders and the shadow on his heart lifted, and he laughted along with the two men, about what, he didn't know.

They ordered again, and this time Esteban was the first one to pick up a glass, and this time he lead the cheer, jumping to his feet. He wavered a little as the two joined him on their feet, and gulped the liquid down. It his his stomach with warmth, and his brain with lightness. He slammed the cup down on the table top with a whoop! and found himself stumbling backwards, until he fell into a chair the next table over.

"You 'kay?" Luthor called stumbling over to him.

"Whoa. "Esteban nodded him head rapidly. "Le's have 'nother!"

"No, no way," Luthor grasped his arm. "You're way too drunk!"

"No I ain't!" Esteban disagreed, pouting up at the man.

"I agree!" Vladimir stumbled over. "We need another!"

"Yeah!" Esteban cheered.

"Fine. One more," said Luthor, waving a finger at them. "But tha's it."

Vladimir leaned heavily on the new table as he peered closely at the floating menu. It took him a couple of miss orders before he finally got the right one.

Esteban took a cup into his fingers, and brough the glass to his mouth—or at least he tried to. He was nearly to his mouth when his finger spasmed, and he lost his hold on the cup. He spilled the liquid down his front and the cup landed on the floor and rolled under the next table instead on breaking.

"Oh, no!" Esteban cried in dismay at his loss of drink.

"Is okay!" Vladimir said. "Here," he handed the kid his own drink, but instead of letting go when Esteban took hold of the glass, he helped guide it to his mouth.

Esteban smiled and giggled as Vladimir took the glass away. Luthor watched them for a moment before he took his glass and held it out to Esteban too.

"This one too!" He said.

"Okay!"

Luthor put the cup to Esteban's lips, and without protest, accepted the drink. Though his eyes were slightly unfocused, he watched the kid drink; his head titled back, his throat working, eyes closed, and that look of happiness on his face.

Luthor gripped Vladimir's shoulder and looked at his friend. "Let's get outta here,"

Vladimir nodded. "Com'on, Esteban." he said.

"Wha?" Esteban opened his eyes and looked at the two. "Where we goin'?" he slurred stumbling to his feet.

"Some place more fun." Luthor told him firmly, grasping his arm so he wouldn't fall.

Vladimir took Esteban's other arm, and the three tumble from the mess hall and to the airlift. When they stepped out, they stopped.

"W're are we?" Vladimir said, looking around.

"I don't know," Luthor furrowed his brows. "I think I live round here."

"Let's go there!" Esteban piped up, wavering between the two men.

They were off again, stumbling down the corridor until they came to Luthor's quarters. The door irised and they stumbled into the tiny cabin, the lights automatically coming one.

"Whoa! This place is awesome!" Esteban shouted, looking around the room with an opened mind.

Luthor beamed at him.

Luthor and Vladmir released his arms and he stumbled around the small room in exploration, which stopped once he found the bed. He sat on it and desided that it was comfy, and them he laid down, and it was even more comfortable.

Luthor and Vladimir watched him.

"Is-is he falling asleep?" Luthor whispered.

Vladimir stepped to the bed and peered down at him, where he layed with his eyes closed and not moving. "I think so," he whispered back as his friend stood next to him. "Should we wake him up?"

Luthor shook his head. "He waz way to drunk."

Vladimir nodded his head. "We pushed pretty hard,"

"Oh, well." the dark-blond shrugged. "It's too late now. Maybe we should take his shoes off,"

Vladimir looked at him for a long moment, before he slowly nodded his head. They shuffled to the end of the bed, and each claimed a foot, discarding the shoes somewhere on the other side of the room. They looked down at there handy work.

"He'll be more comfortable now," Luthor said.

Vladimir nodded at he looked at the slumbering young man. "But what 'bout his clothes? They can't be too comfortable,"

Luthor looked to, then nodded. "Yeah, we want him as comfortable as possible—he's out new friend!"

So the two blond men got to work on taking off Esteban's shirt and pants with drunken finger with trying not to wake him.

"There," they stepped back finally, Esteban's clothes now discarded with his shoes. The kid now sleeping comfortable under the blanket in his boxers.

They clustered around the bed and watched him sleep.

"He looks so comfy," Luthor murmered.

Vladimir nodded. "I kinda wanna sleep too,"

"Me too," Luthor agreed. "But there's nowhere else,"

"He can make room!" Vladimir declaired.

Luthor watched as Vladimir stumbled around the room on drunken legs as he tried to take of his shoes and clothes. He grabbed at his friend when he almost did a nose dive. Then fumbled with his own attire for a few long moments.

Esteban didn't even wake up, just made sleepy-sounds at Luthor and Vladimir's combined efforts at shifting him around ao that they three of them could have a drunken sleep over on the small bed. Finally, they solved the puzzled, with Vladimir against the wall, Luthor on the edge, and the sleeping Esteban sandwiched bewtween them. Tucked under the blankets, embrassing snuggley, the two men joined him in a deep drunked slumber.

Esteban moaned quietly as his eyes fluttered. His head pounding and mind fuzzy as he slowly awakened. He was warm and comfy, and couldn't seem to move even if he wanted to. He cracked his eyes open, but it was almost the same as if he'd left them closed. He tried to remember what happened before he went to sleep, but all he could remember was being in the mess hal alone, then Luthro and Vladimir coming over, and that first drink. And the rest was a mess. He couldn't believe that he did it; he told himself that he didn't want to drink and lose his senses and that seems just like what he did.

He snapped from his thoughts as he realized that he could hear breathing, and it was close by two, and it didn't seem to be just one person, but two. What was going on?

He froze as someone groaned and shifted. And Esteban tensed even more as he felt them rub against him, skin on skin. What was going on?! Now someone else muttered in their sleep, and this time he could feel them move against his back. He allowed himself a breath when all movement ceased, and wondered what he was suposed to do.

He wondered if he had drunken sex, and rexaled a knotch when he found his underwear still around his hip, and he could feel theirs—He didn't want to know how he did, but he did. He knew they weren't woman, because he could feel their muscle and hairy limbs; it must be Luthor and Vladimir—but how did he end up like this. He was rather proud of himself for handling this close proximety, when not that long ago he was exiled; and he thought congradulations were in order for the fact that he hadn't busted out of here screaming bloody murder.

Esteban knew that they hadn't had sex, just drunken together and had a good time. He remembered the cheer between the three of them, and wondered if this what was friends did—drank together and then slept together. He'd never had real friends before, and if it wasn't normal, then maybe it was just thier thing.

He relaxed the longer he thought about.

"To new friends!" he whispered. "To friends..."

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