The alarm clock woke him out of bed at eight o'clock, like every day. Sven carefully opened his eyes, taking the time to reconnect with reality, to leave his sleepy state. He reached out his hand, looking for the bedside table, which he found without difficulty, and came to turn off the alarm. The bedroom was once again immersed in silence. He sighed softly, turning on his back, passing a hand over his face and then into his hair.

He was alone, that didn't surprise him. As a Chief, Right Hand Man woke up much earlier, and his cyborg condition allowed him to sleep less. So, Sven had his boss's room to himself.

It was still hot, and the smell of their lovemaking stayed with him even after the night was over. He blushed, hiding his face behind his hands and sighed again. It was so good, as it always was. So good, so exciting, that he was impatient for their next time, and regrets the empty place next to him.

He turned to look at the rest of the bed, the place where his boss had slept. He dared to move closer, plunging his face into the pillow that still smelled like him. He inhaled, his heart beating, hugging the pillow, imagining himself hugging the cyborg.

He would have loved to get up at the same time as him, just to have a 'good morning' to bed, as a continuity to their ebat of the previous day. But Sven couldn't wake up so early, his mind never heard the first ring, probably because of his exhaustion, and RHM was always careful to be discreet when he woke up.

Another sigh. The blond boy let go the pillow and forced himself to get out of bed. He shivered when he left the comforter, his naked body confronting the room temperature. He hurried to the bathroom, taking a quick shower, without washing his hair to not lose time in drying it.

When he finally got clean, he took care to dress carefully, brushed his hair properly to look presentable, looked for his hat while he activated the filter ventilation. He had wished to aerate in a different way, but unfortunately it was difficult to open the windows in space.

He was still amazed that the Clan was able to complete the space station project. He couldn't believe that he was actually living in space, in orbit around the Earth. It was unbelievable, completely crazy, and at the same time terrifying. Sometimes he thought the worst, wondering if there was some kind of malfunction that would trap them all in space forever, with no possibility of getting food and water.

He was an anxious person, frequently making decisions on impulse when he lost control of his emotions. It was a default that he was trying to remedy, but it was complicated…

He finally found his hat, plus the documents he had been working on since yesterday. It's true he had initially come to discuss with his chief about the report of this week, but as usual, they finished in bed.

He was still blushing and had a little smile on his face as he remembered his boss's look and gestures. RHM could really be sweet and attentive, nothing compared to his coldness when he was giving the orders.

He took a breath, looked at his reflection one last time, and finally left the room, ready to start the day. As he stepped out into the corridor, he saw two colleagues passing in front of was a moment of hesitation, when the pair looked at him in more detail before simply greeting him and continuing on their way.

Sven lowered his eyes.

He knew his relationship with RHM wasn't a secret. There were hundreds of people in the Clan, the walls were thin and gossip spread quickly. Moreover, it wasn't the first time he came out of his chief's bedroom. In fact, they had been caught kissing in the corridor before.

But the looks were still painful. Of course, there was a part of the clan that didn't care about their relationship and didn't attach much importance to it, after all Sven wasn't anything special, he was just a Toppat like many others. But another side took too much interest in him, and he didn't know what was worse: the ones who judged him coldly, who saw the relationship badly... and the ones who took an interest in it like it was a show, a sitcom that people laughed about and commented on every little detail.

Sven disliked being in the limelight. He prefered to be discreet and enjoy a quiet life, without receiving, again and again, the glances of others.

He walked to the communication center quickly, preferring to focus on his work, checking recent reports again and again. His anxiety forced him to be meticulous, carefully sorting, verifying, and re-reading everything over and over again to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

He arrived in front of the door, entered without thinking of knocking, too concentrated on what he was reading:

"Burt, did you...?" he asked, before freezing when he looked up at his document.

Burt Curtis was the head of the communication center. He was a little older than him, only about two years old, and Sven had become close enough to call him 'friend'. And at that moment, his friend was slumped at his desk, eyes half closed, his head tilting dangerously because of tiredness.

Sven passed a hand over his face, blowing deeply:

"My God, did you only sleep last night?"

Burt blinked, rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake. He looked at the blond man, shrugged his shoulders, before grabbing his cup which contained a cold coffee base, which he drank with his characteristic unemotional expression. Sven bit his lip, disliked to see him like that, and came closer to put a hand on his shoulder:

"I thought you weren't on the night service?

- Sleepy is sick, he couldn't replace me.

- So you made your work hours and his, and now you have again to make yours? Burt, you need to sleep or you're going to collapse!"

The one with the headphones sighed: if it depended on him, he would sleep a long time ago. But... :

"No, if I do that, the timing's going to be worse and the boss will yell again."

Sven grimaced. Burt was the link between the chief and the rest of the station, all the communications passed by him, so he frequently was the one who had to deal with RHM's temper when things didn't go according to their plan, and that happened many times with the government, which was always getting in their way.

"... Are you sure you're going to survive the day?" the blond insisted anyway. If you collapse, the situation will be worse...".

Burt nodded gently, and his silence only worried Sven a little more. It's true that his friend wasn't very talkative, but this time it was worst than usual. However, he couldn't imagine himself screaming at him to force him to go to bed, simply because he knew Burt, he knew he was a reasonable adult.

"... You'll go to bed if you really don't feel well, won't you?"

Burt looked at him. He had one of those rare looks that Sven could endure, a gentle, sympathetic look that didn't try to judge him but to reassure him:

"Yes, I promise."

The blonde rubbed his neck, not completely convinced, but enough to stop insisting and go back to work :

"Well, then... I was coming to pick up last week's renderings."

His friend nodded his head again and rummaged in his drawers. He wasn't as perfectionist as Sven, but his desk was a minimum in order, which meant that he could find the documents and give them away without a hitch. The blonde man thanked him and was about to leave, but was stopped by Burt who grabbed his arm:

"Sven, have you eaten?

- Sorry?

- The breakfast. You didn't start working until you'd eaten, did you?"

The blond pouting was the answer he needed. Burt let him go but scolded, this time revealing his irritation:

"Maybe I skipped a night of sleep, but you skipped too many meals. Yesterday you even missed lunch.

- It's not like I'm doing it intentionally, it's just that I don't see the time passing.

- That's the problem with you. Because you're always moving from one spot to another, you don't have anyone to check on you and remind you to take breaks."

Sven looked away, disliking this criticism, but Burt reassured him almost immediately:

"I don't want you to faint either. I'm going to make sure I get a good night's sleep, so make sure you eat right, okay?"

The youngest watched him and was surprised to see him smiling a little. He returned the smile, answering a frank "okay", before leaving him alone and going back to his occupations. But he made a detour to the refectory, to take a small snack that he nibbled on the way to his room. He didn't have his own office and worked in his quarters, where they had installed a computer that was as secure as the rest of the equipment on the station.

He settled down immediately, the documents in front of him, reading them carefully while his hands tapped on the keyboard. Concentrated on his task, he let himself sink into his privacy bubble, not thinking for a moment to watch the time. He liked it when he was so easily in trance, that he could work without any effort, just letting himself be guided by his automatisms and his mind which was easily carburated.

He relaxed when he finished his last line, finally allowing himself to abandon the keyboard and slump down on his chair, and stretched himself with the satisfaction of having accomplished something. The feeling of a job well done was the best feeling of all. He let out a profound sigh, tried to relax his fingers by closing and opening his fist several times.

His eyes finally focused on the right corner of the monitor, and he grimaced as soon as he saw the hour. Already noon? He had spent his morning on the file. He hurried to print the document. The printer started, making that little noise that Sven had become accustomed to and had learned to appreciate over time.

He went to his bathroom to wash his face with water, before coming back to check that the printing was going well. He always feared a paper jam, or an ink smudge. He was not afraid of not having enough resources because he was always careful not to run out of anything, but he was afraid that the machine would have a technical problem because he didn't know how to fix it.

Long minutes passed without any accident. Sven waited for the last page before passing the sheets in review, checking that the impression is good, that the font of writing had not screwed up in the middle, that the layout remained identical to that on computer. Once this was done, he sat down on the bed to reread the whole document quietly, afraid of having missed a mistake. He would lose nothing by checking again, checking his turns of phrase as well as the statistics. This document would be classified as 'official', he could not afford to leave any mistake in it.

One o'clock had sounded when he finally decided to leave his room. He had put the pile of papers in a plastic envelope, which he had meticulously closed and held tightly against his chest. He hurried down the hallway, turned at an intersection and collided with another Toppat coming the other way: Carol Cross.

The woman, surprised to be jostled, raised an eyebrow as she looked at the blond:

"Sven, where are you going so fast?

- Oh, Carol, sorry. I have to make a rendering to the chief."

She looked perplexed, looking at him from head to toe, which made the boy uncomfortable. She tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear, sighing:

"Do you want me to give it to him instead of you?"

Sven wondered:

"...Why would I want that? I can give it to him myself.

- Because the others will probably still talk shit when they see you walk into his office."

The young man's face turned livid:

"...I'm just going to give him my rendering.

- I know, but your relationship is quite... visible. We don't know what you do when you're together.

- But we...

- Sven, honestly I don't care, you can do what you want, it's none of my business. But I hate hearing others talking behind your back, it's boring."

Sven bit his lip, feeling his throat tightening as he imagined what kind of insults could be said about him. He lowered his eyes, squeezing the envelope tighter against him.

"Why don't they just mind their own business?" he asked. "We're not doing anything wrong! I don't have any more privileges just because we... because we do things...!"

Carol thought it was very cute that he didn't dare say "sex". Yet she remained serious when she replied:

"I think most of them are just bored morons. They're picking on you but it could have been anyone else.

- ...what exactly are they saying?"

The girl's expression changed. She looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable and hesitant. Sven looked up to observe her, trying to understand her change in attitude.

"...Carol?

- ... I don't know if you should hear this. It's just bullshit.

- What are they saying?!"

Sven was starting to lose his patience. He felt nauseous. Carol regretted bringing up the subject, remembering that her young friend was quite sensitive and took things very personally. He wasn't like her, just ignoring insults.

She sighed:

"Look... don't take him seriously, okay? They just say that ... well, you're a kid taking advantage of the situation. Which is completely false, you are one of the most honorable members of the clan.

-... What do you mean, taking advantage of the situation?

- Well...you know...taking advantage of the fact that Reginald is no longer here to get closer to Right Hand Man."

Sven froze. It took him a few seconds before he spoke in a pale voice:

"I don't see the connection ...?"

Carol rubbed her neck with the horrible feeling that she was making the situation worse:

"... It's not a secret you know, that Reginald and Right had a relationship, before Reg got arrested?"

No, it wasn't a secret, and yet Sven hadn't thought about it for a while. Past the shock, the anger resurfaced, the irritation became stronger. He passed Carol, continuing on his way without hiding how upset he was:

"W-Well, fuck them!" he exclaimed, but his voice had shaken.

Carol watched him walk away and called herself an idiot. She should have kept her mouth shut, she knew she should have...

Sven himself was angry. He was angry with himself for insisting, he would have preferred not to know what could be said about him. In fact, he didn't know what was better: to remain ignorant or to know.

He felt sick to his heart. Was he really perceived as an opportunist? It wasn't as if Reginald and RHM had officially revealed themselves as a couple! Maybe they were just having an affair. Otherwise, RHM wouldn't have wanted to have sex with him, would he?

Sven tried to reassure himself. He hadn't done anything wrong, he hadn't tried to seduce his boss. It was a natural progression. They had started with simple caresses, trivial touches. To touch the hand when they passed documents to each other, to near the arm when they sat next to each other, to exchange glances which had become envious with the passing of time.

They had never really discussed about anything other than work. Since he had been a member of the clan, Sven had watched RHM from some distance, admiring him and feeling as much loyalty to him as he did to Reginald. He worked for them and kept a low profile, taking orders and carrying them out wisely.

But Reginald had been arrested, RHM had become the boss, and something had changed.

RHM was feeling lonely.

Maybe it was because he knew about loneliness, but Sven had sensed this change coming from his boss. Well, he wasn't a genius either, he hadn't guessed it at first he had seen how RHM was looking for contacts, even if it was just a quick touch. He had seen how RHM was looking for company, going around checking everyone's work and giving orders. It had been strange because the boss was not obligated to move, he could have just stayed in his office and passed by Burt to deliver all his messages.

Finally, the tension had finally made them crack. One day Sven came to his office, gave him some documents, and as always, their hands touched each other. But the scene, so anodyne, had broken, had been the element too much, the trigger.

Sven couldn't remember who had kissed the other first. What remained clear in his mind was the feeling of having been devoured, caught up in sensations he didn't know. He remembered the stuff on the desk that had been swept away, his own body lying on the furniture, the warmth, the desire, and then the penetration that had melted him.

He and RHM had never talked about it. They didn't talk about their sexual activities, they didn't talk about the physical relationship that linked them. They would meet without a word, have sex together without a word, then separate, always without a word. Maybe because they didn't need to say anything. They liked to give each other attention, to forget everything around them, to forget their responsibilities. They enjoyed this simple relationship.

So why did others allow themselves to comment? How dare they say that he was taking advantage of the situation? Sven indulged himself and his boss's desires, they didn't bother anyone, they just kept doing their job properly.

"... I take this too much personally..." he breathed as he ran a hand across his face.

The look of others frightened him. It was always the same thing. It was always the same problem. His life would have been much better if it wasn't for the others, always the others. It was the others who judged him, the others who thought what was right or wrong, the others who chose what was normal or not.

He blew. He was tired, he was hungry. Burt was going to yell at him when he found out he had skipped lunch again...

He entered his superior's office, only realizing too late that he hadn't knocked. This bad habit would play tricks on him one day, he knew it. It was impolite to enter without being allowed, and then it was the best way to surprise a scene he shouldn't be watching. But the poor Sven didn't do it on purpose, he was always too preoccupied with his thoughts to think about good manners…

Luckily he didn't seem to disturb RHM, who was standing at his desk and seemed focused on a map. Sven stayed silent, watching his boss at a long time, without his presence being noticed. His boss was as handsome as the day before. He had that strong aura, that charisma that made the blond boy shiver. His gaze wandered intensely across the map, and Sven guessed that he was thinking about a strategy for their next operation on Earth.

Nevertheless, he dared to come closer. He would have liked to look at it longer, but the rest of his work was waiting for him. Sven cleared his throat, loud enough to indicate his presence.

RHM looked up in his direction.

The blond man hoped he wouldn't blush, his boss's gaze still had the power to destabilize him. Shyly supporting his gaze, he handed him the envelope:

"Here is the complete report of the communication section, Chief."

The cyborg went around the desk, took the envelope with his mechanical tried to ignore the contact of his cold fingers against his own, the same fingers that had run through his body the day before. He remained as impassive as possible, while his boss opened the document cover and took a look at the papers, starting to read it without a word, without appearing to be unsettled by the short contact.

Was he as neutral when he was with Reginald?

Sven froze at this thought, which he tried to forget as quickly as possible. He didn't have to think about it, it was none of his business, it didn't matter.

RHM took him out of his thoughts:

"I'll read this and come back to you during the day."

Even his voice was destabilizing. Serious and profound, Sven regretted not hearing him more during their lovemaking.

"I always remain at your disposal, Chief," the blonde simply replied, before turning around to go to his next task.

He would still try to make a turn through the refectory, not being able to continue his tasks on an empty stomach.