Drunk on Feelings

The interior of the pub was a mishmash of styles and influences, reflecting the diverse clientele it served. The walls were adorned with mementos from countless worlds - a shimmering scale from a Venusian sea serpent, an intricately woven tapestry from the desert planet of Arrakis, a glowing crystal from the ice caves of Hoth. The air was thick with the mingled scents of exotic spices, engine grease, and the sweet, pungent aroma of alien liquors.

As Jasper and Thaddeus entered, they were immediately hailed by their crewmates, who had already claimed a large table in the corner. To their surprise, Captain Flint was among them, his cybernetic eye gleaming in the dim light of the pub.

Jasper's face lit up with a grin as he waved to the group, though his enthusiasm was tempered by the unexpected sight of their commanding officer. He exchanged a quick, uncertain glance with Thaddeus.

"Jasper! About time you showed up," Zephyr called out, his booming laugh echoing through the pub. "We were starting to think you'd gotten lost in the festival!"

Jasper chuckled, sliding into a seat next to Rook, acutely aware of the captain's presence. "Lost? Nah, just taking in the sights and sounds. You wouldn't believe the clockwork marvels they had on display!"

As Jasper dove into an animated retelling of their festival adventures, Thaddeus quietly took a seat at the end of the table, his posture stiff and his expression guarded. His unseeing eyes seemed to fix on a point just past Captain Flint's shoulder.

Ilyara's eyes flicked between Thaddeus and the captain, a hint of something unreadable in her gaze. "And what about you, Thaddeus? Enjoy the festival, did you?"

Thaddeus's smile was thin, not quite reaching his eyes. "It was... interesting."

Scorch leaned back in his chair, his cybernetic arm whirring as he crossed it over his chest. "Well, isn't that just lovely. Our resident hermit finally gets to see some starlight."

Jasper's brow furrowed, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features. But before he could speak, Captain Flint's voice cut through the tension.

"I'm sure Mr. Beaufort found the experience enlightening," the captain said, his tone neutral but his gaze intense as it fixed on Thaddeus. "It's good for all of us to step out of our comfort zones now and then."

An awkward silence fell over the table. Jasper, sensing the need for a change of subject, clapped his hands together. "I don't know about you all, but I could use a drink. Thaddeus, what do you want?"

Thaddeus hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Actually, Jasper. I'll go get mine. I'll meet you at the bar."

As Thaddeus made his way through the crowded pub, his cane tapping out a steady rhythm, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at the temporary escape. The constant undercurrent of tension, the subtle barbs and pointed comments... it was nothing new, but it still wore on him.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the figure approaching until a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke right next to his ear.

"Well, hello there. I don't think I've seen you around here before."

Thaddeus stiffened, turning to face the newcomer. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a thick, unkempt beard. His breath reeked of cheap alcohol and his eyes roamed over Thaddeus with an unmistakable hunger.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure," Thaddeus replied, his voice cool and clipped. "If you'll excuse me..."

He made to move past, but the man stepped into his path, his large frame blocking the way.

"Now, don't be like that," the man said, his grin turning predatory. "Let me buy you a drink, gorgeous. I'm sure we could find something to talk about."

Thaddeus's jaw clenched, his grip tightening on his cane. "I'm not interested, thank you."

"Come on, don't be--"

The man reached out, his meaty hand aiming for Thaddeus's arm. But before he could make contact, Thaddeus's cane whipped up, the brass handle cracking across the man's knuckles with a sickening snap.

The man howled, reeling back and clutching his hand to his chest. Thaddeus stepped around him, his voice icy as he murmured, "I said, I'm not interested."

He made his way to the bar, his heart pounding but his expression carefully neutral. When Jasper joined him a moment later, two frosty mugs of ale in hand, Thaddeus was already placing his own order.

"One milk, please," he said to the bartender, ignoring Jasper's curious glance.

As they returned to the table, drinks in hand, Scorch let out a guffaw. "Milk? Seriously? What, are you still a child, Thaddeus?"

Thaddeus merely shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I prefer to keep a clear head, that's all."

Jasper, his brow furrowed in genuine curiosity, leaned in. "Do you not like alcohol, Thaddeus? I don't think I've ever seen you drink."

Thaddeus was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost haunted.

"I've learned my lesson. Alcohol and I don't mix well."

Before Jasper could inquire further, a commotion across the pub caught his attention. A group of rough-looking spacers had surrounded a young server, their leering faces and grasping hands making their intentions all too clear.

Jasper was on his feet in an instant, his chair scraping against the floor. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. "Leave them alone!"

Thaddeus's hand shot out, gripping Jasper's arm with surprising strength. "Jasper, don't," he hissed, his voice tight.

But Jasper was already moving, shaking off Thaddeus's hand and striding towards the group with determined steps.

"I believe the lady asked you to leave her alone," he said, his usually warm voice now hard as steel.

The leader of the group, a burly man with a scar bisecting his cybernetic eye, sneered at Jasper. "And I suggest you mind your own business, boy, before you get hurt."

Jasper stood his ground, his jaw set and his eyes blazing.

The man's face contorted with rage. With a snarl, he swung at Jasper, his fist aimed directly at the young man's face.

But the blow never landed. There was a blur of movement, a sickening crack, and suddenly it was the spacer who was on the ground, clutching his bloodied nose and howling in pain. 

Thaddeus stood over him, his fist still raised, his chest heaving with exertion. The pub fell silent, every eye locked on the blind engineer. As the man crumpled to the floor, Thaddeus flicked his wrist, as if shaking off the sting of the punch.

Jasper stared at Thaddeus, his mouth agape, a mixture of awe and concern warring on his features. "Thaddeus..."

Without a word, he grasped Jasper's arm and guided him back to their table, his steps sure and his grip firm.

Jasper, still reeling from the sudden turn of events, allowed himself to be led, his eyes never leaving Thaddeus's face. As they sat down, the rest of the crew staring at them in stunned silence, Jasper finally found his voice.

"Thaddeus, that was... that was incredible! Where did you learn to punch like that?"

Thaddeus ducked his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "It was nothing, Jasper. Just a bit of luck, that's all."

But Jasper was having none of it. "Luck? Thaddeus, come on!"

He leaned forward, his eyes alight with admiration. "Seriously, you have to teach me how to do that. You're amazing!"

Thaddeus's blush deepened, spreading to his cheeks. He turned his head away, taking a long sip of his milk as if to hide his embarrassment.

"It's really not a big deal, Jasper," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversation that had started to fill the pub again.

Thaddeus shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. But there was a small, pleased smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a hint of warmth in his usually cool demeanor.

The rest of the crew, shaking off their initial shock, began to chime in with their own impressions of the events.

Even Scorch, usually so quick with a biting comment, seemed begrudgingly impressed. "Not bad, Beaufort. Not bad at all."

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, the crew's spirits lifted, the earlier tensions forgotten in the warm glow of camaraderie and alcohol. Jasper, his cheeks flushed and his laughter coming easier with each mug of ale, kept up a steady stream of conversation, his natural charm and easy manner drawing everyone in.

Thaddeus, for his part, remained mostly quiet, content to sip his milk and listen to the banter around him. But every so often, when Jasper would lean in close to share a joke or a story, his hand brushing against Thaddeus's arm or his breath ghosting over his cheek, the engineer's composure would slip, just for a moment.

As the night wore on and the crew's laughter grew louder and more raucous, Thaddeus found himself retreating further into his own thoughts. The events of the evening, from the goggles to the fortune teller playing out in his mind, each moment dissected and analyzed with a meticulous, almost clinical precision.

He was so lost in his own head that he didn't notice Jasper trying to get his attention, the young man's voice barely registering over the din of his own musings. It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer, that he snapped back to reality.

Jasper's cheek rubbed against his own, the scratch of stubble and the heat of skin on skin sending a jolt through Thaddeus's body. He pushed Jasper's face away, a mock scowl on his features even as his heart raced at the contact.

"Jasper, what are you doing?" he grumbled, trying to ignore the way his skin tingled where Jasper had touched him.

Jasper just laughed, the sound bright and carefree. "Trying to get your attention, silly. You were a million miles away."

Thaddeus huffed, but he could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I was just thinking, that's all."

Across the table, Captain Flint watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, his cybernetic implant whirring softly as it focused on the pair. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture, a tightness around his mouth that spoke of something darker than mere curiosity.

As the night began to wind down and the crew started to disperse, Jasper found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Thaddeus. The engineer was still seated, his hands wrapped around his now-empty glass of milk, his face pensive and beautiful in the dim light of the pub.

Jasper stared, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of Thaddeus's profile, the curve of his lips, the arch of his brow. He felt a swell of emotion rising in his chest, a tide of affection and longing that threatened to sweep him away.

Thaddeus, perhaps sensing the weight of Jasper's gaze, turned towards him, his brow furrowing in concern. "Jasper? Is everything alright?"

Jasper swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the chance to lay his heart bare and confess the depth of his feelings.

"Thaddeus, I..." he began, his voice rough with emotion. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I've been wanting to say for a long time."

Thaddeus leaned forward, his sightless eyes somehow seeming to pierce straight through to Jasper's soul. "What is it, Jasper?"

Jasper took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. "Thaddeus, I... I think I'm in lo-"

But before he could finish, a sudden wave of nausea crashed over him, the copious amounts of ale he had consumed throughout the night finally catching up with him. He clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in panic.

"I... I'm sorry, I have to..." he managed to choke out before he was stumbling away from the table, making a beeline for the pub's restroom.

Thaddeus shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "Oh, Jasper," he murmured, fondness and exasperation mingling in his tone.

He sat back in his chair, content to wait for Jasper to return. But his solitude was short-lived. A familiar presence loomed over him, the scent of expensive cologne and cybernetic lubricant filling his nostrils.

"Thaddeus," Captain Flint said, his voice smooth and cold as silk. "What are you still doing here? The rest of the crew has already left."

Thaddeus tilted his head, his expression carefully neutral. "I'm waiting for Jasper, Captain. He's... indisposed at the moment."

Flint's lip curled, a flash of something dark and ugly crossing his features.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Thaddeus's ear. "You know, Thaddeus, you don't have to wait for him. I could escort you back to the ship. Make sure you... get to bed safely."

Thaddeus stiffened, a chill running down his spine at the implication in Flint's words. He pulled away, his voice icy as he replied, "Thank you, Captain, but that won't be necessary. I'm perfectly capable of finding my own way."

Flint's cybernetic eye whirred, the red light casting an eerie glow over his face. "Come now, Thaddeus. There's no need to be so cold. I'm just trying to look out for you."

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against Thaddeus's cheek in a parody of tenderness. Thaddeus jerked away, his heart pounding and his stomach churning with revulsion.

For a moment, Flint's face contorted with rage, his features twisting into something ugly and menacing. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, the expression was gone, replaced by a mask of cold civility.

He straightened, adjusting his coat with a sharp tug. "Do give my regards to Jasper when he's finished... emptying his stomach. And do remind him that we have an early start tomorrow. I expect everyone to be at their best."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the pub, leaving Thaddeus alone with the bitter taste of unease in his mouth and the phantom sensation of unwanted fingers on his skin.

He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward off a chill. The evening had taken a turn, the warmth and camaraderie of earlier now tainted by the captain's unsettling behavior.

But before he could dwell on it further, he heard the sound of unsteady footsteps approaching, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of Jasper - engine grease and mint, now overlaid with the sour tang of vomit.

"Thaddeus?" Jasper's voice was rough, hesitant. "I'm... I'm sorry about that."

Thaddeus stood, reaching out to take Jasper's arm, to steady him. "It's alright, Jasper. Let's just get you back to the ship. You need rest."

As they made their way out of the pub, Jasper leaning heavily on Thaddeus for support, the engineer couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him.

After reaching the ship. Thaddeus guided Jasper into his bunk, the young man's steps heavy and unsteady, his body swaying with the motion of the ship and the lingering effects of the alcohol. Thaddeus kept a firm grip on his arm, his other hand resting on the small of Jasper's back to steady him.

"Easy there," Thaddeus murmured, his voice soft and laced with concern. "Almost there, just a few more steps."

Jasper mumbled something incoherent, his head lolling against Thaddeus's shoulder. 

As they reached the bunk, Thaddeus carefully lowered Jasper onto the mattress, his hands gentle as he maneuvered him into a comfortable position. He was just about to pull away, to fetch a glass of water and a damp cloth, when Jasper's hand suddenly shot out, grasping his wrist with surprising strength.

"Thaddeus," Jasper mumbled, his voice thick and slurred.

Before Thaddeus could respond, Jasper tugged, pulling the engineer off balance. Thaddeus tumbled forward, a startled "oof" escaping his lips as he landed on Jasper's chest, his face pressed against the warm, solid expanse of the young man's body.

For a moment, Thaddeus was frozen, his heart pounding and his breath caught in his throat. He was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the rise and fall of Jasper's chest beneath his cheek, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, the scent of him, so familiar and yet suddenly so intoxicating.

"Jasper," Thaddeus breathed, his voice shaking slightly. "What are you doing?"

Jasper didn't respond. Instead, his arms came up, wrapping around Thaddeus and holding him close.

Thaddeus's heart ached. He knew he should pull away, should disentangle himself from Jasper's embrace and put some distance between them.

Almost of their own accord, Thaddeus's hands came up, his fingers splaying across Jasper's chest. He could feel the thud of the young man's heart beneath his palm, could trace the contours of his muscles through the thin barrier of his shirt.

As if in a trance, Thaddeus leaned forward slightly, waiting, hoping even, for Jasper to take things further, egged on by the memory from the goggles. His weight shifted as he moved, inadvertently grinding their hips together, creating tantalizing friction.

Jasper's chest rose and fell with each quiet breath, his heartbeat a steady rhythm underneath Thaddeus's ear. Each exhale sent a shiver down Thaddeus's spine, filling his senses with the warm scent of Jasper's skin.

It was intoxicating in its own way, making his head spin and his body warm all over. It felt like Jasper was pouring fire through him, igniting something inside him he didn't even know existed. It would be so easy, Thaddeus thought dimly, to give in.

But then reality set in. This wasn't right; Jasper was drunk. He wasn't in his right mind, didn't know what he was doing. And Thaddeus... Thaddeus would never, could never, take advantage of him like that.

With a sigh that was equal parts regret and resignation, Thaddeus carefully went to extract himself from Jasper's embrace.

But Jasper wouldn't let go. 

His fingers tightened around Thaddeus's wrist like a vice, gripping him securely. Jasper's other arm wrapped around Thaddeus's waist and pulled him closer, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Their chests heaved together, and Jasper's warm breath fanned across Thaddeus's cheek as he mumbled something unintelligible.

The engineer didn't know how to react; he felt both shame and desire battling within him. He felt trapped, yet strangely desired at the same time.

With a big breath, Thaddeus pushed against Jasper's chest gently but firmly. "Jasper," he whispered urgently, "You're drunk, let me go back to my cabin."

Groggily, Jasper shook his head and muttered a faint refusal. As he did so, his leg slipped between Thaddeus's thighs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Thaddeus. The rough fabric of their clothing served as a tantalizing barrier, teasing them relentlessly as they remained locked in this compromising position.

Thaddeus jolted as he felt Jasper's hands slowly start to wander down his back, grazing the small of his waist before boldly cupping his behind and giving it a firm squeeze.

Thaddeus froze at the touch, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt Jasper's fingers digging into his flesh.

The memory of their intimate moments within the goggles played on a loop in Thaddeus's mind, fueling the fire burning inside him as Jasper's hands continued to map his body.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, craving more even as his conscience screamed for him to resist.

Thaddeus trembled at the intimacy of it all. He wanted this so much that he could scream.

Accompanying that thought, a realization also struck Thaddeus.

He had never been like this before. Never, with anyone. Just a few months ago he would have never even considered wanting another man inside of him, would have retched at the very thought of it.

Now, he wanted nothing more than to impale himself onto Jasper's length, to experience that divine friction once again. 

Thaddeus shuddered at the revelation- when, exactly, had he become so lewd?

As if sensing Thaddeus's internal struggle, a sudden upward movement from Jasper brought their groins together with a hungry intensity. The pressure caused Thaddeus's head to swim as a jolt of desire surged through him. His body recoiled instinctively, coming to a sitting position on Jasper's waist, straddling him.

As if trying to hold him in place, Jasper reached out, gripping Thaddeus's hips and dragging him downwards, repeatedly grinding against him through their clothes.

Thaddeus's breath hitched as he felt the evidence of Jasper's desire pressing against him and he swallowed hard. Thaddeus's hands, which had been resting on Jasper's chest, clenched into fists as he tried to maintain some semblance of control.

However, just as suddenly, Jasper's grip slackened, and his body went limp, the alcohol taking its toll. Thaddeus found himself caught in an awkward embrace, straddling Jasper's waist while the man underneath him slept. He froze, unsure of what to do next. 

Slowly, as if in a daze, Thaddeus began to move. With a shaky breath, Thaddeus took hold of Jasper's arms, gently prying them away from his body. Shifting his weight, he slid off of Jasper's lap and stood, his legs shaking slightly, and turned his head towards the young man. 

Reality, it seems, had come crashing back in like a bucket of cold water.

He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment over Jasper's brow, aching to smooth his hair. But he resisted the urge, pulling back and clenching his fist at his side.

With a final, lingering moment, Thaddeus turned to leave the room. His heart was heavy, his body still thrumming with the echo of Jasper's touch, but his mind was clear.

As Thaddeus reached the door, his hand on the handle, he paused. The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the ship's engines and Jasper's soft, even breathing. In the dim light, Jasper looked younger, his face relaxed and untroubled in sleep.

Before he could second-guess himself, he turned back, his steps quiet as he approached the bunk once more.

With gentle hands, he pulled the blanket up, tucking it carefully around Jasper's shoulders. The fabric was soft, worn smooth from years of use, and it seemed to carry the scent of the ship itself - metal and grease and the faint, lingering aroma of the herbs the cook used in their food.

Jasper stirred slightly, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips as he nestled deeper into the warmth of the blanket. His hand, resting on the pillow beside his head, twitched, the fingers curling inward as if reaching for something.

Hearing the movement, Thaddeus's heart clenched, a wave of emotion rising in his throat. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached out, his fingertips ghosting over the back of Jasper's hand. The skin was warm, the knuckles slightly rough from years of work, but to Thaddeus, it was the most perfect thing he had ever touched.

Unable to resist, he lifted Jasper's hand, cradling it between his own as if it were something precious and fragile. He brought it to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the knuckles.

As he lowered Jasper's hand back to the pillow, Thaddeus let his fingers linger for a moment, tracing the lines of the young man's palm, committing every detail to memory. He knew, with a bittersweet certainty, that this might be the closest he would ever come to expressing the depth of his feelings.

At least for now. At least until the time was right, until the words that burned in his heart could finally be spoken aloud.

With a final, feather-light caress, Thaddeus pulled away. He straightened, his hand falling to his side, and took a deep, steadying breath.

"Sleep well, you drunk idiot," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the hum of the ship.

And with that, he turned, making his way out of the room and into the quiet, empty corridor beyond.