My computer is broken and sounds like a lawnmower when it's running, so writing is...stressful. But I wanted to write something, so I cranked out this nonsense.
The brass handle of one door rattled against my attempts to push it open. Grabbing the handle of the other door yielded the same result. Quite the problem, considering my room only locked from the inside.
Before my fingers could curl around my gun, a trembling voice slipped through the gap between the doors. "Um, Captain, that is you, right?" Daiba wasn't the type to speak with any hesitance, not since he'd affirmed his place aboard the ship. On occasion he allowed his nerves to show around me, either when he worried about reprimand or when he asked me on a date, though the latter involved more false anger than fear.
"It's me," I answered, wondering if he broke something of mine. I couldn't imagine why he decided to take residence in my room so late at night. Half an hour before, when just a few stragglers remained on the bridge, he said he was going to bed and left.
"Are you going to let me in?" I asked.
The quick breath of a huff slipped through the door. "Yeah, just-" He heaved another sigh. "I'll unlock the door, and you wait five seconds before you open it."
"Alright," I said. Life was easier when I simply went along with his whims, at least the harmless ones.
"Promise?" he asked like a fearful child.
"I promise." At the sound of the lock clicking, I began to count. One…two…
I learned to stop questioning Daiba's actions some time ago, at least out loud. Endless questions rolled through my head over what he could have broken or if he was hiding it somewhere. No matter what, I would notice anything out of place. My room was organized just as it had been the first day the Arcadia sailed.
Three…four…five…
Behind the doors, something fell to the floor, and Daiba squeaked. I gave him an extra second before grabbing the handle. "I'm coming in," I said, though I waited another moment to hear his response.
"Okay-okay." His voice was caught somewhere between anger and fear, so it was no surprise when I opened the door to find a pout planted firmly on his face. What did surprise me was everything else, and I stopped cold in the doorway. My wide eye wandered from the burning pink blush covering his face to the satin of the same color that barely covered what it needed to on him.
He sat on my desk, hands clutched so tightly to the edge that they were blotched red and white. Freshly shaved legs shone form the lights of the room and were crossed so tightly I wondered if he might lose circulation. My gaze traced up from his bare feet to the black lace fringe that marked the end of the satin piece. Any shorter and it could have been classified as a shirt. Pencil-thin straps traced over his shoulders, one slipping toward his arm.
I didn't know what to feel, but Daiba looked nothing short of terrified. "Close the door," he hissed. Even his ears turned the shade of his face, visible beneath waves of combed hair. I doubted I'd ever seen him with his hair combed.
I took another step in to close the door behind me, but no tension eased from his frame. He only looked more mortified as the seconds ticked by, eyes widening as they took in the floor. His toes curled as if to fight of the trembling that began to take hold of him.
Still unsure what to say, I stood with my mouth open until words fell out. "Are you alright?"
"Am I attractive?" he gasped as though he'd held the question in all this time. Demanding eyes shot up to me. "I'm not just cute, right? I'm an attractive adult…" He chewed at his bottom lip, hands tugging at the hem of the lingerie.
"Yes," I said, partially because I couldn't say anything else in good conscience. "You're very attractive, Daiba, but are you doing this willingly?" He looked so upset, and this seemed like the sort of thing Kei would pressure him into.
"Of course," he mumbled. His hands flitted in every direction, never staying in one spot for more than a few seconds. He clawed his hair into his eyes to hide as much of his face as possible. "I wanted to surprise you. You don't…like it."
His lips shook with the rest of him, and I realized my mistake. In three steps, I was across the room with my arms around him. "You look very nice, Daiba," I sighed as he hid his face against my shoulder. "You just didn't seem very comfortable in it. You don't have to push yourself to do things you're not comfortable with for my sake."
He sniffled. "But I'm hot right?"
I didn't like calling anyone hot, such an odd word, but he pulled away with red-rimmed eyes and one strap fallen from his shoulder. "Yes, Daiba," I said as I unfastened my cape. "You're so hot this room is uncomfortably stuffy."
His brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in on me in disbelief. "Captain, were you trying to be smooth, because that was terrible."
Under his disapproving glare, I scratched at the back of my neck. "It's not one of my strong suits." Not that he was one to talk on the matter, considering the circumstances.
As soon as I set my cape on the desk beside him, he picked it up and placed it on his shoulders instead, folding it around himself to cover his thighs. "You have to feel my legs though." He kicked one up to show me. "Kei helped me wax them, and I did not go through that for you to not touch them."
"You didn't have to wax your legs for me. I'm not that particular." Still, I pulled off my gloves to run a hand up his shin. As soon as I brushed his knee, his leg popped back down. Clearly, that was my limit on height for now. "Did Kei also help you pick out the outfit?" I asked.
He breathed out his nose like an agitated bull. "She helped me, but I picked it out. She said you'd like black better, but I like pink, so I got pink." His cheeks regained the shade. "The black ones were much…thinner. I'll get one of those another time."
My mind wandered a bit more than it should have, and I found myself scratching at my scar to hide the heat in my face. "As long as you're doing it because you want to," I said. "So what exactly did you want to do tonight in your new outfit?"
It appeared his mind wandered too, along with his eyes as far away from me as possible. But whatever thoughts filled his head did not agree with his mouth. "A movie!" he spluttered. "We should watch a movie!"
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Of course, a movie. It was always best to go along with Daiba's harmless little demands.
He buried himself in the blankets of my bed while I took a projecting tablet from my desk to serve as our theater. Though I tried to sit over the sheets to keep him comfortable, he demanded I be able to touch his legs more, so we ended up under the same layers of blankets. He curled himself against my side, pressed so close it was more comfortable to sit with one arm around him.
"What do you want to watch?" I asked as he flipped through the selections on the hologram with quick swipes of his finger. "We're limited on movies without subliminal messaging."
"I want car chases and explosions."
"That's not very romantic."
He gave another huff. "You can still kiss me if you want."
Fair enough. With my free hand, I pressed my fingers to his jaw to lean his face toward me. As though he'd forgotten his own words, he looked my way in confusion. I placed a simple kiss to his lips, long enough to feel the heat radiating from his face and the chewed skin of his lower lip.
It was hard not to think of him as cute when I pulled away to find another pout settling on his flushed face. Attractive, cute, hot, whatever – I found him gorgeous no matter what word he wanted to use for it. He didn't need to dress up or shave or even comb his hair for that.
