Houston, Texas - Disappearance Day

The morning siren went off and a room full of starved, tired, and beaten people stood and pulled on the simple clothes that they were allowed. In the midst of this morning routine, someone noted how quiet it sounded outside of the shared building, but one black-haired man didn't pay too much attention to the idle chatter. Just because the Wasps were being quieter than usual didn't mean that they weren't there.

"This happens sometimes," he told the people who were trying to listen for the buzzing of wings. "We need to file outside." The man, Brad, wasn't going to risk being slaughtered because everyone else was being careless; as much as he hated this life, it was his and he wanted to survive. Still, people refused to move, even after he yelled that they needed to go or else be killed.

Fuck it, he thought, I'm not going to die for this. He walked outside to find the silence continuing. Only a few others had thought to wander outside yet, to see what was going on or why there was a deafening silence looming over the city.

Brad looked around in amazement; having never heard quiet like this. The buzzing of the Wasps' wings was gone, even the tech they used every day was eerily silent amongst the ruins of the old city. How could this be?

Tentatively, he walked further away from his assigned building. More people from his and other nearby buildings soon filed outside, slowly walking around the area that was their designated gathering area. A few people ran off toward the assignment building, once a store pre-invasion, to check. Maybe it was a trap or a test set up by the Wasps to check their loyalty, people were saying to each other; no one could be for sure.

As this group went off, Brad volunteered to go with another group to the Wasp living area. They had to be somewhere, and if nowhere else, then definitely at their homes.

The Wasp living area wasn't far away from the part of the city they were assigned to, and the group arrived there quickly. Immediately, they began listening for noises that were not there, then looked for signs of a struggle, but there was neither red Human blood nor black Wasp blood. It was odd, and as the group began to speculate what this could mean, another group from a different part of the city caught their attention from a short distance away.

Some of the group talked with these other people, people they had seen but never interacted with as they belonged to another part of the city. However, they were reporting the same things that Brad and his group had experienced this morning: the Wasps were gone for no reason, with no explanation, and no one knew what to do about it.

As everyone talked amongst each other, Brad looked out toward what was once a thriving bay, now a dried-up shoreline of sand, and a graveyard for the skeletal remains of ships stripped clean by Humans for the Wasps. He closed his brown eyes as the breeze blew through his hair, and he wondered if the Gulf of Mexico was still as big as the old maps of the area showed. Probably not, judging from how dried up the bay was, but he still wanted to see it. Hope filled him as it occurred to him that maybe he could now; maybe the Wasps had truly left.

"We're free," he said to the others, interrupting the conversation. "They're gone."

One of the others in the group that Brad had known for years, Gavin, shook his head. "We don't know that for sure, and you yourself said that this was weird only minutes ago, Brad."

"I know, but," he looked back toward the mostly empty bay, "I just have this feeling we've finally gained something. Something that we shouldn't squander by waiting around for them to come back." He looked back toward the others. "And they may not! And even if they do, should we really wait around to be enslaved again?"

Gavin sighed and shook his head. "This is not a situation for fantasies. What if they've gone to squash a rebellion, come back, see us all gone, and try to hunt us down and kill us? Or torture us worse than they already have?" He shook his head. "I am not risking lives here by coming to that conclusion so soon. We need to wait, only a few days, maybe a week, and if they don't return by then--"

"I don't want to be a slave anymore," Brad screamed in response, interrupting the older man midsentence, "I can't goddammit!" His eyes were teary thinking of missing an opportunity like this, even if Gavin was right in the end. "I can't keep living like this, and we have an opportunity, right here, right now, to prevent this slavery from continuing." He shook his head and looked toward the bay once again. "I am taking this opportunity."

Extremely unhappy with that response, Gavin kept yelling at Brad, the people around them just standing and looking between each other in confusion, clearly unsure of what to do themselves. Some were muttering with each other about whom they agreed with as the two men continued yelling back and forth about what the absence of the Wasps meant and whether or not they should take the opportunity to run like Brad was talking about.

In the end, Brad turned from the argument and went back to the main part of the city to gather the few things that were considered his. As he threw the blanket from his pallet, the two changes of underwear he had, and the hidden box of old jewelry from his mother into a burlap sack, it occurred to him that there were a few things he actually needed, like food and water to even make it out toward where he was planning on walking out to. So he took the burlap sack to the building where the daily water and food distribution normally was, quite happy to find that some of the others had already broken into it to pass stuff out to those who were waiting, and just grabbed three bottles of water and a handful of the disgusting "grain bars" that they were allowed.

Once he had these in the sack as well, he tied it shut and left, ignoring the people staring as he decided to walk toward where the old maps said the Gulf of Mexico was.

--

Two days later, only a few hours after carefully crossing an old, partially collapsed bridge, Brad finally found himself standing on the edge of what was once a beach. Some old buildings that had once been shops, still stood, having not been disturbed since the invasion; others had collapsed, he assumed from a combination of hurricanes and neglect. He did take the opportunity to look through the standing buildings, stuffing extra clothes that weren't too gross and any non-perishable food (a lot of cans) into the burlap sack and an in-tact backpack that he happened upon.

Other than clothes or food--and the backpack--he didn't take anything else, especially from the old apartment, and definitely nothing that seemed like it used to be deeply personal to someone. Hell, one apartment still somehow had a piece of paper stuck to the refrigerator that said "Christmas List" on the top, which strangely made him feel like he was invading upon the ghosts of the past. He left that apartment quickly, barely even looking through it.

Soon after, Brad decided to shoulder the heavy backpack and make his way toward the beach once again. Looking out over where he assumed the water once reached, he felt a sense of relief. Yes, there was nothing here, but nothing, and even no one, was better than the hell he had lived his entire life.

The silence was even freeing as he wasn't surrounded by the sounds of buzzing wings, screams of pain, groans of the dying, and constant construction. The silence was beautiful to him.

Still enjoying the view of the water that was pulled far back and the sounds of silence around him, Brad saw an object just standing out where the water still stood, and he suddenly wanted to get out there. He looked to the side and saw a simple rowboat closer to the water that was, surprisingly, still put together. He wondered if that belonged to someone who had taken up residence somewhere on the island he had just crossed, but he wasn't overly worried about it. In all honesty, he just wanted to get out to see what the object jutting out of the water was; maybe it was dangerous, maybe not. Either way, he was going to find out.

Upon approaching the rowboat, however, Brad slowed his pace and his face dropped as he saw a relatively fresh corpse beside it. Oh, that explained why the boat wasn't destroyed. He looked between the corpse and the object out on the horizon for a minute, debating if it was really right to take the boat, and wondering what killed the person on the ground beside him.

In the end, he decided whatever it was had to be better than what he came from. "Sorry," he told the corpse as he dropped the bags in the boat, "but I need this more than you at this point." With one last glance at the poor soul, he pushed the boat into the water and hopped inside.

Surprisingly, it took him a shorter amount of time than he thought it would to row out to what turned out to be a massive former oil rig, something he had only seen pictures of when he was assigned to scavenging materials out of an old museum. Conveniently, there was even a haphazardly welded ladder with a thick rope tightly tied to it, along with a hatch above his head. Now Brad felt a little weird about tying the boat off and shouldering the backpack once again to climb the ladder, knowing that the dead man on the beach had definitely lived here, if even for a brief time.

Once he felt balanced, he reached down and grabbed the burlap sack to carry up to, not wanting to risk the boat sinking or a random wave coming through and washing away the supplies or family heirlooms that had managed to survive this long. He was not going to be the one to lose what was left of his family from before the invasion, especially not in this way!

After a bit of struggling and finagling with the hatch, Brad managed to push it open and threw the burlap sack onto what he assumed was the floor above his head. He pulled himself up and sat down, just kicking the hatch shut as he was finally allowed to give his aching muscles the break they so needed.

Once a few minutes had passed, he stood again and grabbed the burlap sack so he could look around. This place was a bit narrow, narrower than he had thought it would be from the pictures he had seen, but it was still massive. He followed signs that were pointing up the sets of rusted stairs, stating that the sleeping quarters were in that direction. The catwalks widened a bit here, and he thought it was strange that he hadn't run into another person here; the old rig was certainly big enough to house multiple people, and he figured if one person was hiding out from the Wasps here, surely others had been too. He checked every room, though, and found no signs that anyone had been in these rooms for years. Some were blanketed in dust and cobwebs, others still had the personal items of former workers sitting there waiting for their owners to return.

Like in the apartments on shore, he didn't bother these rooms. It felt disrespectful.

Nearly at the end of the hall, though, he finally found one room that had clearly been recently occupied. The bunk bed that had been present in other rooms had been dismantled and modified to one large double bed, and there was, surprisingly, some electricity running in this room. He honestly wasn't sure how, but he wasn't going to argue with the sun setting. He shut the door behind him and placed his bags at the end of the bed; it did feel a little weird, still, to know that this room probably belonged to the dead man he had taken the boat from, but it was a different kind of weird.

Brad laid down on the mattress and nearly melted with as soft as it was compared to the pallet he had been sleeping on his entire life. It was so odd how safe he felt, how relaxed his body became the longer he laid there staring at the ceiling of the small room, and how the anxiety that had clenched his entire body only days ago just washed away as he realized that he was really, truly, actually free.

He wasn't going to get up for a while, he acknowledged that immediately, but when he did get up again, he wanted to explore the oil rig more and then find a way to give the man who clearly once lived here a proper burial.

--

Ten years later...

The small port town buzzed louder than usual, as the outcome of the war against the Wasp race on their home planet wove a powerful narrative around Brad while he walked through the town with a half-full burlap sack in one hand and an empty one in the other. He didn't pay much attention to the chatting as he just needed supplies for the next few weeks, and since he had earned a few extra shards doing odd jobs around the town, he felt confident he could actually avoid rowing to shore for the full two weeks. Especially with the fish, which he was intending to trade for more shards still.

"Hunter," Brad yelled at the fish merchant as he approached, "I brought you some fish."

The fish merchant, Hunter, smiled. "Brad!" He held his arms out in welcome to the older, reclusive man. "Great timing! Neither I nor my kids caught shit this morning, so you are a Godsend." He grabbed the bag of fish when it was held out, finding it to be heavier than he was expecting. "Damn, maybe I should start fishing out by your oil rig, huh?"

Brad smirked just a bit with a noise of amusement. "Your wife would be too paranoid about you going out that far."

The merchant chuckled as he carefully took the fish out of the bag to display for the people walking by. "You aren't wrong there." He gave him the now-empty burlap sack back and reached under the counter for an old, rusted lockbox. "Here," he grabbed two tiny bags out that each had the words 50 Shards sewn into them, "a bit extra for ya today since I am relying on your catch."

Brad shrugged as he took and pocketed the tiny bags. "I won't argue. I need supplies today anyway." He waved as he took a step away, but was immediately bowled over by someone running through the crowd of people.

Cursing as the back of his head smacked into the cracked concrete, he was already prepared to absolutely tell off the complete asshole who ran him over but paused as a shaking voice apologized repeatedly. Whoever it was sounded distressed, and he could see the distress on the young man's face when his eyes slowly opened and the pain in his skull passed.

Brad froze as his brown eyes met the other man's silver ones. An odd color, to be sure, but beautiful and they matched the soft features of the pretty face they belonged to. He tried to say hello, but the man apologized one more time before jumping back to his feet and continuing to run. All Brad could do was sit up and watch him run off, quickly followed by the Human Preservation Team members who were clearly chasing him.

"Brad, you okay?" Hunter held out his hand, which the dark-haired man took to stand. "That guy really knocked you for a loop."

Brad nodded to the merchant, then looked toward where the silver-eyed man and the people chasing him went. "Any idea who that was?"

Hunter shook his head. "Never seen him before, but if HPT Officers are chasing him, he's probably up to no good." He shrugged. "You need to sit down for a minute?"

"Uh, no, I'm okay," Brad reassured, "but thanks. I'll see you." He walked off once the merchant said goodbye to him as well, continuing to the rest of the market for the supplies he had initially come into town for. His mind refused to leave the panicked face of the silver-eyed man as he shopped and even carefully counted out the smoothed-down metal shards for his purchases.

Maybe it was just because he had never seen that eye color before, or maybe it was because he had never experienced attraction to another person before. To be fair, he thought, that would mean he didn't necessarily know what attraction felt like, but he doubted it was like this. Maybe it was like this though? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he loaded the now-full burlap sack and empty fish sack into his boat. He was never going to see that man again anyway, so there was really no point thinking about him further.

He pushed his rowboat away from the other boats parked on the shoreline and rowed out toward the oil rig he called home. He passed another person rowing in from another oil rig that was further out. Other oil rigs have been populated by many people, turning them into small communities, which people were wanting him to do for the oil rig he lived on, but he refused.

It wasn't that he didn't want people living there with him--truthfully, he wouldn't mind that whatsoever--but he didn't want them to disturb the rooms he had sealed off as tombs of the past. Those rooms were not theirs to disturb, destroy, or occupy. The ghosts of those whose final moments of freedom or life were still in there deserved to be left to themselves, without the disrespect of their rooms being invaded and their things tossed aside.

So he refused to let anyone else move onto the oil rig with him.

However, as he approached the oil rig, he saw another boat tied to the ladder leading up to the hatch. He groaned as he tied his boat off; he was tempted to let the boat loose into the ocean but thought better of it. Then whoever was undoubtedly here to speak to him, once again, about opening up his oil rig to more people would never leave. Hell, knowing his luck, they would take that as an invitation to stay.

Both burlap sacks in hand, Brad climbed the ladder, opened the hatch, then threw the sacks onto the floor above his head like he always did before climbing the rest of the way up and kicking the hatch shut. To his surprise, though, when he looked around, no one was clearly around. Weird. Usually, they waited to talk to him before exploring, and he was not happy that whoever it was decided not to wait on him.

He sighed as he picked up the sacks; first things first, have to drop off the things he bought in town before trying to find whoever just decided to go look around without even so much as a "maybe".

First stop, the kitchen. Turn on the light so he could make sure the power was still working so that he could store and cook what he bought, put stuff away, there was a person huddled in the corner...

Brad stopped when he saw the person in the corner of his eye and looked over at them as the person raised their head from their knees. His eyes widened as the other man's long dull-pink hair fell away from his face, seeing the silver-eyed man who had barrelled him over earlier. What the...?

After a long moment of awkward silence, Brad finally asked, "Why are you here?"

The silver-eyed man jumped when Brad spoke, his eyes widening as if he was terrified of the other man. However, he did not answer the question, just stared with wide eyes.

Okay, he was clearly scared. This was not the first time Brad had happened upon someone terrified of other people--that was, unfortunately, a common thing after Disappearance Day--but at least this time, he was in a place that he felt comfortable in, so he didn't feel as weird kneeling to the other man's level. He even tried to shrink a bit to seem smaller since that had worked with others before.

Another long silence went by, the silver-eyed man slowly relaxing before, in a small shaking voice, he asked, "Are you going to make me leave?"

"Well, that depends," Brad answered honestly. "Why are you here? Why were you running from the HPT Officers earlier?"

The man's eyes went to the floor for a moment before shooting back up to Brad's face, clearly trying to gauge if he could trust him or not. "I..." As soon as he started, he stopped the conflict on how to say what he needed to evident in his eyes. "My eyes."

Brad let the silence sit for a minute before asking, "Your eyes?"

"They're not normal for a Human, I know that," he muttered, "but I didn't do anything wrong." His arms tightened around his legs, drawing them even deeper into his chest. "It's not my fault I was given these eyes."

This raised a red flag in Brad's mind, remembering how he heard rumors about a facility somewhere in north Texas where the Wasps had experimented on people, turning them into alien hybrids. The rumors told about people with wings from the Wasps, skin colors from every color of the rainbow, powers, and even odd hair and eye colors. He hadn't believed the rumor at the time since no one had any evidence that these people existed, but with someone with odd hair and eye color sitting in front of him... "Were you experimented on by the Wasps?"

The silver-eyed man nodded. "I was in my late teens, and hadn't been there very long when they left, so I didn't get the worst of what they did to other people, but I was still fused with...something, I don't know what, but it changed my appearance just enough to be obvious." He took a deep breath. "As for the HPT Officers, they have orders to kill any remaining Humans who survived the experiments at the facility."

Brad's eyes widened. "What? They're killing people for something that they can't help?"

He nodded. "Yes. I only made it this far because an Officer I ran into a while ago told me and a few others that I was traveling with at the time that they somehow had pictures of all of us, and they had orders to kill any of us that they saw." He grew silent once again before adding, "We split up from there, and I haven't seen my friends since. I don't know if they're even still alive, or how long I'll make it, but I don't want to die just because I look different." He muttered the last part into his knees, his eyes blanking out and his head sinking back to his knees as he said this.

Brad noticed this and felt his heart sink into his stomach. He couldn't let this man leave, not into a world where he would be hunted down and killed for something that he couldn't help and that wasn't his fault by any stretch of the imagination. He looked at the space of floor between them for a moment as he tried to think of a not weird way to ask this, but eventually just shrugging to himself and asking, "What if you stay here?"

"Huh?" The silver-eyed man looked up at the question, genuine shock written across his face.

"Sorry if that's weird," Brad said quickly, "but I thought it could be safer here for you. It's just me, so there's plenty of room, and I wouldn't argue with having someone here to talk to." Then, he added without thinking, "Especially someone so cute." He froze immediately after realizing he said that, and seeing the other man's face was now red to match his burning hot cheeks. "Uh..." Why did he say that? That couldn't possibly come off creepier to someone huddled in a corner!

Luckily, the silver-eyed man smiled, though his face was still tinted red. "My name is Josh."

"Um, Brad," he responded slowly. "I didn't mean to come off as weird, or creepy, or anything..."

"No," now Josh chuckled a little bit, "it's fine. You unintentionally helped me feel better and helped the tension at the same time."

Really? Because Brad felt like he just manifested tension out of his awkward ass having terrible timing at flirting with someone he hadn't even intended to flirt with yet! He just wanted to help and be a comfort, attraction be damned! Goddammit, why did he have to be bad at this? Maybe he should've listened to some of the guys in town about getting out and socializing more often...

He groaned as the red slowly disappeared from his face. Okay, time to stop ranting at himself and actually help the other person in the room. "Well, um," he coughed in an attempt to dispel the remaining embarrassment from his body, "it's, uh, too late to try to clean out a room for you, so you can stay with me for tonight. I have a big enough bed that we will both fit without being on top of each other." Unless you want that--stop it! You do not know him! Tonight was going to be difficult, Brad could already tell.

His smile now softening, Josh asked, "Are you sure I can stay here? You aren't worried about me putting you in danger by being here? Or about sharing your space and food with me?"

Oh, good, change of subject! "Of course you can, and I don't mind. You shouldn't have to worry every day about whether or not someone is going to kill you for something you have zero control over."

"Thank you." Josh kept smiling, even as Brad helped him to his feet, and the taller man just felt his face continue to burn.

"Well, um," he cleared his throat and removed the damp cloak he always wore into town; he mostly used it as a simple way to keep him from getting wet traveling to and from the shore, "let me put this stuff away and then I'll show you around, okay?"

Josh nodded silently and just stared, which Brad noticed and really did try to ignore. This was the other reason he liked to wear the cloak: he was muscular and everyone either stared at him or approached him asking him to go to bed with them. Now, he couldn't lie and outright say that sometimes he said yes to a few of the men that had approached him, but he didn't always like or want the attention. Therefore, the cloak.

He looked over his shoulder to the smaller man, finding that he was giving him the same lustful look that so many gave him when he didn't cover himself in town. Oh, well, he had initially thought the same about Josh the first time he saw the other man when he barrelled him over in front of the fish merchant. Maybe once everything was settled and they knew for sure that Josh was safe...

"Brad?" Josh's voice cut through Brad's thoughts and made him realize that had just been standing there staring like an idiot the entire time.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly before turning back to the things to finish putting away; his face had turned even redder at the realization. As he was trying to concentrate, though, a hand landed on his arm, causing him to jump and look over at the smaller man giving him a soft smile once again.

"Sorry if my being here makes you uncomfortable or anything. You live alone, right? So you probably don't want people living here with you." His tone was deeply apologetic as he talked as if he really believed he was intruding as much as he thought.

"No, no, it's nothing like that!" Brad sighed. "It's not that I don't want people around, it's just that I don't want people intruding on some of the rooms that still have personal effects from before the invasion. I don't want the past to be disrespected."

This seemingly took Josh by surprise as he just stared, wide-eyed, at the bigger man and a deep blush formed across his face. He quickly turned his face away. "That's...weirdly noble." He glanced over at him again, the smile returning to his face. "Let me help you put stuff away. It'll go faster."

Accepting his offer, Brad found that it did go by much faster than it ever had, even with him having to point Josh in the right direction for most things. Soon enough, he was putting the burlap sacks away near his fishing gear and showing Josh to the room they would be sharing for the time being.

Or however long he likes, he found himself thinking. His face turned red again as he opened the door to the bedroom. It hadn't changed much in the last ten years except for some decor on the walls, the newer handmade blanket and pillows on the large bed, and the family heirlooms that had managed to survive to this point displayed on a built-in shelf.

Josh smiled once again. "Thank you."

Brad returned the smile. "You're welcome."

--

Weeks went by without much happening. Brad continued fishing and going into town alone to get the things the two needed--some of the merchants even made passing jokes about him buying more than usual--and Josh was learning how to help around the rig. Glances and brushes between their hands happened frequently, cuddling at night was becoming common as the two grew closer and just so happened to forget to find the silver-eyed man a room of his own. The night before even saw the two exchanging a few sweet kisses while lying in bed to try and sleep.

Brad dropped the burlap sack full of supplies into the rowboat with a happy sigh remembering holding the smaller man to him and just showering him in gentle, chaste kisses before falling asleep beside him. He needed to do something nice for him, something sweet. Truly, he was surprised with himself; this was the first time in a very long time that Brad didn't think about the world around him, about how depressing it really still was, and how only a small fraction of his life had been spent free of the Wasps. For someone to give him that level of peace, it was just absolutely astounding.

"Excuse me, sir!"

Brad stopped just as he was about to push the boat out into the water to look toward the voice, watching as an HPT Officer approached him. Great. "Can I help you? I need to get back home before some of this spoils." He hoped his irritated tone was enough of a hint.

"This will only take a second," the officer assured. "We need to know if you've seen an individual with silver eyes and pink hair. They were last seen stealing a boat and heading out toward the oil rigs."

Brad tensed but tried not to show it. Dammit, he thought Josh was safe! Why were they looking for him now, weeks after he left the mainland? "I haven't. In case I do, may I ask what this person has done?"

The officer eyed him like he knew he was hiding something. "They are an alien, and it is our job to ensure that any alien lifeforms are terminated as they present an ever-present threat to mankind. So if you see this creature, either turn them in or kill them yourself. It's for the betterment of all humanity."

Shit. "I'll keep that in mind." He turned to get in his boat, but the officer stopped him again to ask if he was sure he hadn't seen who they were looking for. "Look," he sighed heavily, "I live alone on an oil rig I'm working to fix up. I would have noticed another person there, even if they tried to hide. Can I go now?" He left when the officer gave him a nod, and he rowed out as fast as he could.

That wasn't a good sign, and he had a deeply troubled feeling like that was only the beginning of the situation.

He pulled himself out of the boat and up the ladder as quickly as he could with the burlap sack of supplies in hand. Once up, he made double sure that he locked the hatch and quickly dropped the burlap sack in the darkened kitchen before going off to find Josh in the generator room. He released a held breath when he found him; good, he was still okay.

The smaller man glanced over his shoulder when he heard Brad enter. "Oh, hey, what's the trick to this again?"

With a nervous smile, Brad reached over and flipped a few switches, dropped a lever, and pressed another thing in. The lights in the small generator room kicked on. "There, that should do it. It takes time to remember."

When the lights came on, Josh looked up at Brad and his face dropped. "What's wrong? You look scared."

Brad sighed. He didn't want it to be obvious, or to worry him, but there was really no way around telling him about the officer that confronted him. So he told Josh what happened, that people were looking for him. "And I honestly don't know if he believed me. I hope he did, but with his tone and the way he was talking..." He clicked his tongue, trying to hide his concern, and failing.

"Do you want me to go?"

His eyes widened at the question and he looked at Josh, whose body was tense as if he was waiting for the shoe to drop and for Brad to tell him that, yes, he wanted him to leave. Instead, though, Brad grabbed his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. "No. I don't care what happens next, I want you here." Without wasting another moment, he gave the other man a passionate kiss. "I want you with me," he added lowly after releasing him from the kiss.

Josh's face was bright red when he was released, and Brad's face mirrored it when he noticed. The cute little kisses last night were one thing, but this was a kiss of love and of need. It was beyond where they had landed only twelve hours ago, but, truthfully, neither man was complaining.

In fact, Josh wrapped his arms around Brad and kissed him back. When they parted, he said, "I wish you'd have kissed me like that last night."

Now Brad's arms snaked around him, holding him just as tight as when they slept at night. "I do too." He kissed him again. "I love you." He should've said it days ago.

The looming danger forgotten with those words, Josh moved to grab Brad's hand and pulled him from the generator room, across the rig, and to their room. There was nothing said between the two as they walked through the old metal city, but the tension and nerves grew with every step toward their bedroom, and when they entered and Josh released Brad's hand to sit on the edge of the bed, the nerves just continued to grow.

There were still no words spoken as Brad took his cloak off and shirt before stepping over to Josh to kiss him again as they fell back onto the bed. The larger man lay on top of the smaller as they continued kissing and pulling at each other's clothes. Josh's fingernails dug into Brad's sides as he drove his hips into his, and the silver-eyed man wrapped his legs around his partner's waist. Brad groaned against Josh's mouth feeling the nails digging into his skin, realizing how much more he liked it from Josh than he ever had from any other person he had been with, and his hands snaked around to the smaller man's ass to give him a squeeze.

"Brad," Josh moaned when Brad moved to his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh with his teeth, "wait. Stop."

Brad did as asked and looked at the other man, his breathing labored from the heated moment already. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he reassured, "I've just never done this before. Any of this. Sex." His face was burning at the way he worded that.

Oh! Oh shit. He didn't even think of that. Well, he didn't have any lube anyway, so this worked out, in a way. "I'll go slow if you want to keep going," he offered. When he was given a nod, he added, "There are other things besides penetration, if you want." He wouldn't push him if he wanted to stop. He damn well knew he couldn't say he loved him if he did.

Slowly, Josh nodded. "I could try those for now." He gently grabbed Brad's face to kiss him again. "I love you too."

Brad smiled for a split second before he heard a loud bang reverberate through the room. "What the hell?" His smile fell as he stepped out of the room to look out and see what caused the noise. He froze seeing three HPT Officers looking around beside the open hatch. Shit! He turned back into the room to grab his shirt and a small gun from a nearby drawer to tuck into the back of his pants.

Josh's eyes went wide watching this and seeing the serious but scared look on his beloved's face. "Brad...?"

"Lock the door behind me, turn off the light, and hide. Don't come out unless I come in here alone." Leaving that as the only explanation, he gave Josh a quick kiss before turning out of the room and shutting the door. He waited until he heard the door lock before going to the central area where the three officers were still standing, clearly unsure of what to do now that they were here. "May I ask what the fuck you are doing here?" That was a little more hostile than he usually greeted unwelcome guests, but this was different.

One of the Officers in a slightly fancier uniform glared at Brad for the question; this was apparently the man in charge of the small squad. "You're the civilian that lives out here alone?" When given a curt nod in response, the Officer continued, "You will do well not to address Officers of the Human Protection Team in such a crude manner. Particularly when you are the subject of an investigation."

Brad narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to use the gun he brought, but the tone and the glares he was receiving from all three Officers told him that it might be necessary. "Investigation? Did I trade some bad fish?" He didn't mean to sound annoyed, but he was, so there they were.

The Officer in charge glared harder. "You think we would waste time on something like that?"

"Then, I will ask again, why the fuck are you here?"

"An Officer who questioned you earlier had reason to believe you did not answer truthfully as to the whereabouts of an alien fugitive." The Officer looked around them a bit. "A silver-eyed Humanoid with pink hair. He said it seemed like you were hiding something when he asked you about the alien."

Well, Brad would give them credit, they caught onto him a lot faster than he thought they would. "Why? Because I said I live alone, or because I was tired from spending the majority of the morning in a boat, fishing?"

"He said you seemed a little too on-edge." He looked Brad up and down, seemingly searching for some type of sign that the muscular man was lying. "Like right now. You're very tense."

"Because I'm tired," he insisted in a continually pissed-off tone, "and I don't appreciate unwelcome visitors." He gestured back to the still-open hatch. "Leave."

"Not until we search the entirety of this rig."

"Like hell you're tearing apart my home," he yelled; the gun in the back of his pants suddenly felt heavy. He didn't want to use it, but dammit, he would if it meant protecting Josh. "There is no one else here, so leave now or I will make you leave myself." 

The higher ranking Officer opened his mouth to say something else but was preemptively cut off by one of the other Officers screaming as he stumbled and fell down the hatch and into the water below. The remaining Officers and Brad all paused in confusion, unsure of what just happened until Brad saw the air shift in front of his face for a split second, and the other lower-ranked Officer was clearly pushed into the hatch as well.

"What the...?"

The last remaining Officer whipped around to Brad with a wild angry look on his face. "You are conspiring with the ali--" A floating, rusted crowbar suddenly came around and whacked him in the face, sending him stumbling back toward the hatch. A final push came from the invisible form once again, sending him down into the water too.

The hatch closed and locked with Brad still standing there in shock until the invisibility fell away to reveal a freaked out Josh bent over the now-closed hatch with a terrified look on his face. He was on the verge of tears as he looked to Brad, who slowly approached him muttering his name.

Josh flinched at the sound of Brad's shaking voice but stood up straight. "I should've said something when I first got here, but I can...go invisible. It's usually just good for sneaking around, but they weren't going to leave..." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I can though. After this, the others in that town will be suspicious and--"

"You aren't going anywhere," Brad insisted. He wrapped his arms around Josh in a hug. "I've never seen anything like that before; it was amazing." After a moment to hold him, the taller man kissed the shorter with a smile. "You are amazing."

"Brad, they'll send more... If I stay, you're in danger," he insisted.

Brad shook his head and kissed him once again. "You will be in more danger if you leave than if you stay, and I am not letting you put yourself in that much danger just because you're worried about some dickheads." He pulled Josh back into the hug. "I wasn't lying when I said that I love you, and I am not letting you go." When it was apparent that his beloved was going to argue with him once again, Brad stopped him by saying, "I don't care what anyone thinks of you. You have been through so much, and so much was forced upon you, and it doesn't take away from who you are. And the person you are is absolutely amazing and beautiful and stronger than even I, admittedly, believed until now. I love you, and I want you to stay here. Please." He knew he was practically begging at this point, but this was the first time in a very long time that Brad had actively and consciously wanted to be around someone for more than a few minutes.

Clearly, the begging worked, because Josh slowly wrapped his arms around his beloved and put his face in his chest. "I love you too, Brad." Once a long minute had passed, Josh managed to ask, "Should we go back to the bedroom?"

"Do you want to after that?" The mood just wasn't there for Brad anymore, but if Josh wanted to...

"Not...Not really," he admitted in a small voice.

Brad gave him a tiny smile and kissed him once again. "Sleep?" They could just hold each other, something he was certain his beloved needed after that mess. When he felt Josh nod against his chest, he led the smaller man back to their bedroom and let him curl up to his front.

Later, he would take care of the boat and the bodies, find something to properly lock the hatch so no one could just pop in like that again. For now, he just needed to hold onto Josh and shower him with love.

--

When Brad awoke the next morning, he was alone.

Realizing this, he jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. Josh couldn't have left! He was so sure they were okay!

He burst into the kitchen area, just to be sure, and calmed seeing his beloved standing in front of the stove concentrating on eggs in a pan. Josh didn't even notice he was standing there until a sigh of relief escaped his lips and he wrapped his arms around him from behind. Then he glanced over his shoulder at him with a concerned smile.

"Hey, you okay?"

Brad nodded as he put his chin on Josh's shoulder. "I was worried you left when I woke up alone."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't think that through, I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast." Josh gestured toward the nearly finished scrambled eggs in the pan.

"It's okay." He kissed Josh's neck and just stood there watching the eggs finish, not moving from that position until he had to grab plates and silverware.

The two men ate quietly but kept smiling at each other. In that moment of silence, they both realized that it didn't matter if they would be constantly harassed by the Human Preservation Team, or even eventually run out of their current home; they had and loved each other, and would protect one another even if it meant death.

For now, however, after all the shit they had to endure in their lives, the loneliness they both felt even after finding themselves free of the Wasps, this moment of happiness was more than enough.