Page 32 of Too Many Beds

Vastpink Fever

Jem Zero

Content warnings: medical use of needles | aphrodisiac exposure (no dub-con) | multiple sex partners | overstimulation and forced orgasm

D espite being eager to return to his own star system, when Captain Lucas Collingwood receives an incoming distress signal from a nearby mining ship, all he does is sigh and change course. His two person space cruiser won’t help if the operators need a ride, but there might be some way he can assist, and helping people is Lucas’s bread and butter.

Real butter. Which he misses dearly, since fat doesn’t dehydrate well, and their only dressing-adjacent substance up here is a frozen jelly made from a vegetable that kind of tastes like butter.

Gross.

Andi, his beloved, long-suffering engineer, doesn’t argue or bitch when he informs them of the interruption; they only heave a deep sigh of their own. That’s why Lucas loves them.

The mining ship’s bay is open and waiting, and Lucas steers inside to execute a graceful landing on the strip. Beautiful. He’s feeling good about this already.

Andi deboards first. They’re rather protective, which is fair. More than once Lucas has been a touch too trusting around strangers, resulting in some interesting life-threatening situations. Thank the stars for well-prepared besties.

A stunning Black man is the first person Lucas sees when Andi gives him the all-clear. He extends his forearm in greeting, and Lucas, who doesn’t usually care about height differences, has to fight a blush when he offers his own to cross the other captain’s.

“Greetings, and thank you for responding to our signal. I’m Ranger, overseeing the Hephaestus mining operation,” he says.

His voice is low and melodic. Lucas’s face flushes despite his wishes for it to not. “Nice to meet you,” he responds, pulling away quickly. “I’m Captain Lucas Collingwood. And this is my engineer, Andi.” Face stoic, they greet him in the same fashion.

Ranger smiles warmly, full lips spread until dimples form in his dark, rosy cheeks. “Welcome aboard. Come, meet the rest of my crew.”

After over an Earth year in space with no social connection other than coworkers and his deeply asexual best friend, Lucas has found himself becoming rather randy. He would never proposition a subordinate or professional acquaintance, which means he’s gone quite some time without male companionship.

That’s why he very nearly crumbles during the introductions.

First, Ranger slaps the shoulder of a broad-shouldered man, who smiles patiently when Ranger gives him a friendly shake. “This is Poe, my second in command. And this—” Ranger reaches to ruffle the hair of a man on Poe’s other side “—is Oliver, Poe’s twin.”

Lucas blinks. The twins share a tan complexion and are wearing identical clothing; their dark hair has been cut in the same style, except Oliver’s hair has a slight wave to it. Oliver is slimmer than Poe’s muscled frame and a centimeter or two taller, but fraternal twins do have differences like that. What has Lucas tripped up is that despite their remarkable similarities Poe and Oliver seem to be of different ancestry. While humanity has spread throughout multiple galaxies, the genetic traits from their origin planet, Earth, are still present. Poe’s eyes have an epicanthic fold that Oliver lacks and Oliver’s nose protrudes farther outward than Poe’s, with a slight bump on the bridge. It’s the only major difference, but still perplexing for twins.

Lucas opens his mouth to greet them politely regardless, but is interrupted by Poe’s laughter.“Not by blood, Captain Collingwood. We just discovered our many similarities as children and never let go.” Poe shares a smile with his “twin,” and Oliver responds with the exact same expression. Their body language is identical, movements smooth as they alternate crossing forearms with both Lucas and Andi.

Next Ranger indicates a taller, greying man. He introduces himself as Tim, the Hephaestus ’ engineer, and Andi’s eyes flicker with interest. They step forward, clasping arms with the stranger, then appear to employ some super-secret engineer handshake during which Tim somehow communicates the issue with the ship in less than five syllables. Lucas doesn’t try to understand—he hears the words ‘satnav offline’ then tunes them out. For all his skills operating a ship from the other side of a control panel, Lucas would be floating helplessly in space if something went wrong with his cruiser without Andi there to diagnose the internal problem.

Within seconds the engineers have disappeared, leaving a very flushed Lucas alone in the bay with Ranger and the twins. Without Andi to steer him, he’s found himself adrift and unexpectedly useless.

“Um, is this everyone?” he asks, having thought there’d be more people on a mining ship. Not that he’d know.

Ranger casts a glance around, then nudges Poe. “The fuck is Creek?”

Oliver sighs, but says nothing as Poe touches his thumb to a scanner on his wristlet, popping up a miniature projection of the Hephaestus . A rapid series of gestures later and a flashing red blip appears on the layout. “Hydroponics, sir,” Poe says, cutting the holo.

Intrigued, Lucas asks, “Your gardener?”

“Only a fraction of Creek’s power,” Ranger says. Oliver rolls his eyes, but Ranger knuckles him in the side. “Creek is our mad hygienist. Anything that requires being clean and healthy up here, Creek’s on it. Unfortunately, he also tends to mute his communicator because he finds it distracting.”

“Even though that’s what it’s there for ,” Oliver mutters, making Poe snicker.

Lucas smiles. The team seems an expressive bunch, which works far better for him than any of the more stoic communities he’s run into during his galactic travels. Andi has to take the wheel on those missions, as it were. Frankly, Lucas doesn’t understand why anyone would go to space without a wide-eyed passion for exploration and openness to absorb everything the vast galaxies have to teach—and that is much, indeed.

“Could I meet Creek?” There’s nothing like meeting someone with like-minded passion, and it’s not as if Lucas has anything else to do.

“He gets tetchy about invasions of his personal space,” warns Oliver, at the same time as Ranger says, “Of course!”

“I’ll escort you,” says Poe, politely ignoring his twin, whose attention is wrenched away from Lucas when he sidesteps Ranger’s attempt to put him in a headlock. Poe places a hand on Lucas’s shoulder, steering him toward the airlock. “Don’t mind them. O’ and Creek don’t get along so well. Or, Creek doesn’t care what O’ thinks of him, and I know better than anyone that Oliver doesn’t like being ignored. Personally, I think he has a crush. O’ and I aren’t the kind of twins who share everything, though.”

O’ and Poe , Lucas mouths to himself, before smiling in amused delight and trotting to keep up with Poe. They’re the same height, but Poe’s stride is longer and more confident. He’s charitable about it though, extending an arm to hold the sliding doors open for Lucas when he joins him in the airlock.

Lucas’s stomach lurches when the air pressure changes, the pressure of his boots suddenly lessening where he stands.

“Sorry,” Poe says, catching Lucas’s arm before he stumbles. “We’ve reduced the halls to 75% artificial gravity, in order to conserve energy. You probably didn’t hear before they absconded, but Hephaestus was equipped with limited resources based on how long the operation was supposed to take.” The other door of the airlock hisses open, and Poe keeps ahold of Lucas while escorting him into the wide, brightly lit hallway.

“A malfunction in one of our machines resulted in us running over our estimated project time. We’re all more than ready to get back home, but when we packed up and went to take off, Ranger discovered the navigation systems were completely down. The ship is pre-programmed by the company we work for to prevent resource theft—yeah, I know,” he says, grinning at Lucas’s eyeroll. “So, unless Tim and your engineer find a workaround, we’re stranded until the company gets a shuttle out to us, and only the gods know how long that’ll take.”

“I’m certain Andi will be able to help!” Lucas says, over-enthusiastic, mindful to not call attention to his personal uselessness. By the third hallway they turn down, he’s adjusted to the partial grav, and straightens his spine so Poe knows to let him walk on his own. His own cruiser is only equipped with artificial gravity in the personal cabin, and it doesn’t have a gradient feature. He’s either bouncing around his cockpit or securely on the ground.

They both fall silent as Poe navigates through the ship, Lucas squirming in discomfort over not knowing what else to say. Sooner than later, fortunately, they make it across the small vessel, passing into a wing that smells remarkably fresh compared to the stale, metallic air most ships acquire. Lucas draws a deep breath, a smile coming unbidden to his face. The light changes as well, yellow undertones giving way to bluish full spectrum lighting emitting from panels in the walls.

“Creek?” Poe calls, footfalls quiet as looks into each room they pass. They reach a set of transparent double doors; the sight through the acrylic makes Lucas’s jaw fall open.

He’s seen space hydroponic gardens before, but none grown quite so lushly. Beyond several rows of plants stands the fifth member of the crew, his back to the intruders. “What’s up, Poe? Tim find out how to get us the fuck out of here yet?” Creek asks without turning around. Even from a distance Lucas can tell the man is tall, even more so than Ranger, and he has long brunet waves tied back into a high tail on the back of his head.

“Not yet,” Poe says. “And you’d know what’s up if you checked your communicator.”

“If anything is that important, Ranger can use the overhead speaker,” Creek grumbles. He bends over to prod at a small bush with thick, virident leaves struck through with yellow veins. Lucas does his best not to check out the generous swells of his ass, visible even through the baggy jumpsuit Creek is wearing.

“Just turn around and greet our rescuer, you ass,” Poe says.

Creek startles, straightening as he spins on his heel to face them. He’s wearing PPE glasses and gloves, but even through the bulky plastic, Lucas can tell Creek is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Then he sweeps them off and his high cheekbones, piercing gaze, and olivine skin confirm it. One of his eyes is honey brown and the other is an inhuman electric blue. The pupil clicks as it dilates.

“I— I’m not the rescuer,” Lucas protests, stumbling over his words. “I’m Captain Lucas Collingwood, but I only received the distress signal and responded, my engineer is really the one—” Poe laughs, but Creek only stares, focus intense as Lucas struggles to not make a fool out of himself. And fails.

With measured steps, Creek exits the row in which he was working, unzipping his jumpsuit and sliding his arms free. He comes to a stop in front of them, keeping his eye on Lucas while tying the sleeves off around his waist. Then he folds his arms across his chest and says, “Hello, Captain Collingwood. Thanks for showing up.”

Heat floods Lucas’s face. “It wasn’t any inconvenience. Not a problem at all. Actually, I was right at the end of an assignment and we were on our way back to my planet. I’m glad I caught it, because no one deserves to be stranded, and I’d hate to be in your guys’ position?—”

“I’m sure Ranger expressed appreciation for all of us,” Creek says, voice low and even. His height has Lucas tilting his chin up to meet an intense stare. He’s not muscled or wide like Ranger and Poe, but also not beanpole-thin. Just graceful, like a dancer, with a gardener’s nimble, dirt-smudged hands.

Lucas swallows hard. “He did.”

Creek stares at him a moment longer, then the pupil of his blue eye contracts, clicking softly as it adjusts to the light. “Good.” Then he turns around and walks back to his plants without another word, leaving Lucas feeling oddly flustered, and his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Poe gives him an apologetic shrug. “That’s just Creek,” he explains. “Let’s go check in with Ranger, see how long you guys’ll be stuck here.”

S imilar to the personal cabin in the cruiser, where Lucas and Andi sleep on two vertical bunks, the five-man team shares a single room for sleeping quarters. There are six units total in the room, each featuring a mattress with storage drawers under the bed, cabinets over, and a privacy curtain. Lucas feels somewhat jealous of the privacy curtain.

While they could sleep in their cramped cabin in the cruiser, Ranger insists it’s no issue to make room for Lucas and Andi during their stay. Andi makes an attempt to decline, but Lucas is excited at the prospect of an adult human-sized mattress, and so accepts enthusiastically. Which means Andi has to accept as well, being as overprotective as they are. So they sigh, then take the unclaimed sixth bunk.

Meanwhile, the twins opt to share Poe’s bunk, allowing Lucas to spend the first night cycle aboard the Hephaestus in Oliver’s vacated bed. Exhausted by all the socializing, Lucas falls asleep immediately, his last thought being how good Oliver’s sheets smell.

The next morning, the seven of them have breakfast together. Creek eats quickly and silently, then leaves as soon as he’s finished. Shortly after, Andi and Tim disappear to go another round fighting the navigation system.

While the twins clean their spots, Ranger only pokes sparingly at his rehydrated eggs and potato hash, focusing more on a side of cooked greens. Noticing Lucas noticing, Ranger grins. “I can’t with this fake shit,” he says, jabbing his fork at the beige tray. “We’re lucky to have Creek aboard, cranky bastard though he is. Not many ships get fresh vegetables like this; just standard freeze-dried rations. First four months here I lost a dangerous amount of weight, before Creek noticed and came up with a meal plan.”

“I’m fine with most freeze-dried food,” Lucas replies. “I can eat it, I just miss some things we don’t have up here.” Like real butter.

Ranger smiles, but his eyes drop to where he’s tapping his fork against the side of the bowl of greens. “I miss a lot of things, frankly.”

Lucas purses his lips, debating on whether to ask while knowing he’s going to, but feeling better for the moment of hesitation. “What brought you to space?”

Scratching the back of his neck, fingers carding through his long locs, Ranger says, “Just got some bills back home, since my granny passed away. I had quarry experience on my home planet, and the mining company was paying nearly triple my salary for this position, with bonuses for every kilogram harvested. Seemed foolish not to go for it.”

“What’re you searching for?”

The question wins an eyeroll. “They’re called ‘vastpink’ gemstones. A type of crystal that forms in low-gravity environments, usually found in the cavities of large asteroids like the one we’re circling. Some celebrity on my planet became obsessed with them, making vastpink jewelry absurdly popular. Now demand is through the roof.”

Lucas finishes his last bite of food, then swipes a napkin across his mouth. “I’ve never seen vastpink.” He can’t deny his curiosity—Lucas is curious about everything there is to learn about different cultures, which is why he bought his little cruiser and began intergalactic contract work in the first place.

With a rueful smile, Ranger reaches into the front of his uniform and tugs out a chain of modest weight. In his palm rests a polished stone in a simple oval cut, set with a minimalist silver hoop. Lucas feels his eyes grow wide regarding it. The very name implies there’s pink somewhere, and there is, but the stone is shot through with bands of violet, freckles of onyx-black and deep blue scattered throughout like space debris in a vast nebula.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucas says quietly.

Ranger tucks the necklace back into his shirt. “It is. Was my gran’s, actually, so I decided to keep it instead of selling it. Gets me through the months by reminding me why I came up in the first place.” Then he sighs, spears the last of the greens in his bowl, and shoves them in his mouth, still smiling as he chews. He washes it down with a swig of water, then knocks his fist against the table and stands. “I gotta go check on Tim and your guy,” he says, standing. “If you’d like, I can take you down to see O’ and he can show you what raw vastpink looks like straight out of the asteroid.”

Lucas perks up. “That would be amazing.”

They clean their spots at the table, then set off. Lucas bounces down the lower-grav halls, grinning back when Ranger smiles, clearly amused. He leads them to an elevator, and they ride it to a lower level of the ship. As it descends, Lucas becomes aware of sudden sweat breaking out on his brow. He dabs at it with his sleeve, trying not to become disheveled while standing so close to Ranger, whose lovely dimples should be considered an intergalactic threat.

“Through here.” Ranger leads, navigating through a humid corridor until they enter a wide open room, in which they find Oliver standing over a worktable covered in raw gemstones of varying sizes. “Hey O’, would you mind showing Captain Collingwood around for a bit? He’s interested in what we do here.”

Oliver is flushed, with the top three buttons of his uniform undone to expose his chest. While he’s not as broad or muscled as his twin, the wisps of dark chest hair peeking out from his loose white undershirt still draw Lucas’s eye.

“Sure,” Oliver says, sweeping a rag over his forehead, then stripping off a pair of gloves. “Thanks for coming down, Captain Collingwood.”

“You can just call me Lucas,” he corrects.

Before he can say anything else, Ranger sets one wide hand on Lucas’s head, ruffling his short waves of auburn hair. “Let me know if you need anything else, Lucas.” Then, with a wink and a salute for Oliver, Ranger struts through the exit.

The man’s easy affection and camaraderie is a relief, one Lucas hadn’t expected. Andi isn’t a touchy person, and aside from the occasional shoulder pat, elects against physical contact. Lucas wouldn’t demand physical reassurance any more than he’d pursue a subordinate or colleague, so after months of limited social interaction during his last assignment, he’s ended up remarkably touch starved.

“I hope you don’t mind the heat down here,” Oliver says in a low, almost melodic voice. “This is where I process newly mined vastpink, but it’s right by the engine room.”

Lucas is reminded of the fact that he slept in Oliver’s bed. His sheets smelled so good, Lucas almost asks if it’s a type of soap or if Oliver’s natural musk is just naturally addictive. He doesn’t want to humiliate himself, and so abstains.

“Ranger said you’d like to see the vastpink up close?”

Lucas nods, waiting for Oliver to toss his head, inviting Lucas closer. He tells himself he’s not going to pay attention to how Oliver smells, but the moment he gets close enough, Lucas inhales far less subtly than he means to. Fortunately Oliver doesn’t seem to notice, which is good, because otherwise he’d know why Lucas nearly swoons at the proximity.

Unlike Ranger, Oliver tests Lucas’s balance with only a brush of his shoulder. “Are you alright? Do you need water?”

“No—” Lucas says at first, then reconsiders. “Maybe.”

Oliver smiles sweetly. “One moment.”

He steps away, leaving Lucas to consider the raw gemstones. The rough, cloudy angles don’t allow for the same sparkle as Ranger’s pendant, but the chunks contain a different visual element, like staring at the stars through a telescope. Lucas brushes his fingers over one of the larger stones, then startles when Oliver reappears at his side with a cool metal bottle.

Lucas murmurs thanks, then drains the bottle in seconds. Oliver’s brows arch, and Lucas laughs awkwardly and shrugs. “Guess I was thirsty.”

“More?” he asks, fingers touching the water bottle, brushing Lucas’s.

Shaking his head, Lucas demurs, but neither of them move. Oliver has the same dark eyes as Poe, but the slight difference in height has Lucas tilting his chin up enough to feel exposed. “Thanks for letting me use your bed,” he says, unsure of why his voice is so quiet.

Oliver’s lips twitch. “It’s fine; I was happy to. Not the first time Poe and I have shared a bed.”

“How long have you two been, uh…”

“The twins?” Oliver laughs. “Since we were kids. It was obsession at first sight. One look and I felt like I was looking through a mirror to an alternate universe, and that was enough for Poe to superglue himself to my side.”

“We’ve been inseparable ever since,” says a voice behind them.

Lucas startles, but Oliver merely turns with a warm smile. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry for scaring you,” Poe says, sauntering up. He throws an arm around his twin’s shoulders, grinning. “How’s it going? Not bored yet, Lucas?”

Another pulse of warmth runs through Lucas’s body. He presses the cool bottle against his cheek, distractedly reassuring Poe that he’s the opposite of bored, thanks to everyone’s consideration. It must not be very convincing, because the twins are regarding him with concern.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asks.

“I don’t know,” Lucas answers honestly. “I feel hot. Really… sweaty. That’s probably just the humidity down here, though.” He blinks at the two men, feeling as if his vision has doubled. They’re both so handsome, standing this close and smelling divine. Lucas sways toward them, succeeding in getting a hand on either shoulder, Poe and Oliver having reached out in unison. He can’t keep his own hands to himself; they seem so sturdy, proven when Lucas braces a hand on each of their chests. “You really do look so much alike.”

The twins exchange worried looks. “Do you think—” Poe begins.

“We should get him to Creek,” Oliver says without waiting for Poe to finish his sentence. As long as they don’t stop touching him, Lucas is happy to do as he’s told.

C reek isn’t thrilled by the interruption. He doesn’t look at them, just frowns at the sink where he’s washing and paring a fruit Lucas has never seen before. He opens his mouth to ask what it is, but his tongue is dry and sticky, and Poe speaks before he can untangle his words.

“Captain Collingwood needs your attention,” he says.

That gets Creek to turn. “Attention how?”

“The mineral dust,” Oliver says, his warm tone from earlier replaced by something stiff and unfriendly. “You should have warned him yesterday.”

Creek’s hackles rise, but Poe cuts between them, standing protectively in front of his twin. “Actually, Ranger should have said something, but he was probably distracted due to?—”

“Get out,” Creek says, gesturing toward the twins. “I’ll handle it.”

Oliver puffs up, his light brown skin reddening, but Poe grabs him by the arm. “Thanks, Creek. We’ll give you some space. Lucas, let me know if you need anything else.” Then he drags Oliver away, hissing a reprimand under his breath.

Now thoroughly confused, Lucas fidgets under the pressure of Creek’s intense consideration, both his natural eye and the cybernetic one holding different but equally overwhelming weights. Twisting his hands together, Lucas hazards, “May I ask about the ominous-sounding dust now?”

Creek sighs, running a hand through the long, dark waves of his hair, still tied in a high tail. “You should’ve been warned before this,” he says cryptically. “We discovered a side effect of the vastpink early on into the mining process. There’s a mineral that develops within the vents in the asteroid, and it’s attracted to the crystals, often growing directly on them. Whenever we open a pocket to extract the crystal, it’s disturbed and gets into the air. Oliver has worked on cleaning the dust off the harvested vastpink before bringing it onto the ship, but it’s impossible to eliminate all of it.”

Concerned, Lucas runs his fingers along the edge of the sink, grounding himself by rubbing drops of water between his thumb and forefinger. “What does the mineral do? You should know, I caught a foreign illness from a different planet a few months ago, before my last assignment. I recovered fine, but my immune system can’t afford another—” He stops obediently when Creek holds his palm out.

“It’s nothing like that. You won’t get sick.” Creek bites the corner of his lip, then flicks his tongue over the spot. “Not like that, anyway.”

“Cut to the chase, please?”

Creek surprises him with a soft snort of amusement. “The mineral works as an aphrodisiac. Our team has gotten used to the effects, due to prolonged exposure, but since this is your first time encountering the substance, it’s affecting you at full potency.”

Lucas blinks, then blinks again while trying to process what he’s heard. “An— so I’m getting horny ?”

He’d assumed it was just his hormones raging at proximity to such attractive men after his months-long dry spell. During travel, even, ah, tending to his needs required careful timing. Since the personal cabin in his cruiser is shared, it leaves Lucas’s choices for privacy the cramped latrine, or the zero-grav cockpit. Wanking in the captain’s chair while strapped down isn’t the most fun Lucas has ever had, but he’s managed.

Until now.

“If you want to phrase it that way, sure,” Creek allows.

“How, um. How bad will it get?”

Creek bites his lip again. Lucas would like to soothe that spot with his own tongue, then recoils at the impulse. “It varies,” Creek says after a moment. “We all experienced different levels of arousal, delirium, and discomfort.”

“This might be an impertinent question, but… What did you guys do about it?”

“We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking,” Creek responds dryly. Before Lucas can sputter himself into an early grave, Creek continues: “Mostly we took turns in the latrine, didn’t question disappearances, and medicated fevers.”

“What helped it wear off?”

The question wins him a little smile, and Lucas is inordinately pleased. “Orgasms,” Creek says. “Lots of them.” Before Lucas can get swept away by his imagination, Creek lifts a strainer to shake excess water off the fruit slices he was working with, then dumps them into a solid bowl and pops it into an icebox. He then tests Lucas’s forehead temperature with the inside of his wrist. “You’re feverish. Let’s get you medicated, shall we?”

Creek’s touch has Lucas shuddering, staring up at the taller man with stars in his vision. When he doesn’t move, Creek huffs and takes his elbow gently. “Come on,” he says, quiet and soothing. Very different from the standoffish demeanor he’s presented thus far.

Lucas likes it.

He nearly floats down the hallway, toes barely touching the floor. Creek attempts to let him walk on his own, but gets impatient with Lucas stopping to peer into each room they pass. Finally he grabs Lucas’s elbow as he did before, ushering him along with a muttered promise to show him everything later. Lucas cannot wait for it to be later.

By the time he’s planted Lucas on a cushioned medical chair, Creek looks as flustered as Lucas feels. “The most effective method of managing effects is via intramuscular injection.” After Lucas’s enthusiastic nod, Creek produces a loaded syringe and attaches a needle. “The injection will go into your thigh.”

It takes a moment for Lucas to realize that’ll require pulling his pants down. Suddenly dealing with the mounting arousal seems a fine option—not because he’s opposed to Creek seeing him in his underclothes, but rather, he’d like that to happen for a reason other than jabbing a needle into his ass.

“Will it burn?” is the only thing he can think to ask.

Amusement shows in the arch of Creek’s brow. “Depends on your pain tolerance. Assume the position?”

Laughing far more robustly than the almost-joke deserves, Lucas unfastens his pants and slides them down to his knees with no preamble. He wonders how muscular Poe’s thighs are compared to his generous ones, tanned from the last visited planet’s nearest star, but not toned.

Creek pulls on a pair of gloves. “No latex allergy?” Lucas shakes his head. “Any previous vaccine reactions?” Another negative. “Do you?—”