By decree of Captain Sven Jiordson, Alan had been made an unofficial crew member aboard the Merry Swallow. Sven had announced this quite randomly one day and had chattered happily about Alan helping with odd jobs but nothing to dangerous and of course he'd still be restricted from learning too much about pyrean technology but wasn't it great that he had something to keep him busy now? Alan was pretty sure Sven was joking about the whole thing. At least he hoped Sven was joking. Either way, Alan knew there was little point in arguing so he just shook his head and sighed.
To celebrate the occasion, Sven, Ragnar, and a handful of other crewmen had decided to throw a party. Throwing a party, in pyrean terms, meant gathering in the mess hall with as much liquor as they could lay hands on. The crew of the Merry Swallow could lay hands on a truly staggering amount of liquor. And on short notice, too.
Alan had declined the many offers of rum or whiskey, and opted for juice instead. Unfortunately for Alan, the twins had spiked the juice, and he ended up three sheets to the wind before the second round of poetry began. Halfway through Ragnar's recital of a rather lengthy poem on the subject of cheese, Alan passed out. Whether from alcohol or boredom, no one was quite sure.
After being unconscious for an indeterminate amount of time, Alan lifted his head from the table and wiped a bit drool from his chin. Something had woken him rather suddenly, but he wasn't sure what it had been. He couldn't think clearly. It took him a moment to realize that everyone was staring at him. Nothing is quite so unsettling as having a dozen or so drunken pyrean pirates stare at you, especially if they're grinning.
Valtra, who had put in an appearance when Alan had been down for the count, clamped a hand over her mouth and looked as though she was trying very hard not to laugh. Ian, sitting closest to his left, stared at him without looking him in the eyes, and smiled in an amused sort of way.
"Arrr," Lance said, apparently to himself, and dissolved into a fit of giggles with Dirk.
"I think I should call it a night" Alan said, attempting to get to his feet. He swayed and would've fallen if Ian hadn't caught him.
"Ya know, I think you're right," Ian said. "Why don't I walk you back to your quarters?"
Alan was in no position to protest. He clung to Ian's well-toned arms and let himself be guided out of the room. And my goodness, Alan thought, did Ian have some well-toned arms, all rock-hard muscle and warm, dark tan skin. In fact, Alan was going to have to stop thinking about Ian's arms, because while he'd never given them much thought before, he could see right away that he was headed down a dangerous path.
Suddenly, they were standing in front of the room he shared with Sven. Ian helped him through the doorway, the room spun for a moment, and Alan landed face down on a pillow.
"You gonna be okay?" Ian asked.
"Uh-huh," Alan muttered.
"All right," Ian said. "If the kid doesn't turn in soon, I'll have someone check on you."
Alan felt fingers in his hair, caressing gently for a brief moment before Ian slipped away, leaving Alan in the cool, dark, quiet bedroom
.
Alan was distantly aware that Ian had thrown him on Sven's bed. He supposed he really ought to crawl across the room to his own bed, but he was about as likely to move from where he had landed as he was to grow wings. If Sven wanted Alan to move he could drag him across the room himself.
He fell asleep then. Some time later he was partially woken when he heard a loud noise, some swearing, and boots hitting the floor as they were pulled off. He closed his eyes and went back to dreaming about Ian Torrens' arms.
Alan could feel the hangover before he even opened his eyes. His head hurt and noises were sharper than they should have been. Sven's snoring, for instance, seemed much louder than usual. Alan opened his eyes and attempted to roll over, but something was weighing him down.
What was weighing him down was Sven Jiordson, who was also snoring in his ear. Apparently Sven had decided to collapse into bed after the party, and furthermore, had decided that Alan made a good pillow. After the third try, Alan managed to shove Sven to one side of the bed. Unsurprisingly, he did not wake up.
Shower, Alan thought. He needed a shower. Yes, that would make everything better. It might even clear his head a little. That was his plan and it went quite well for five whole minutes, until he washed his hair. That's when he noticed it.
"What the hell?" Alan turned off the water and stumbled toward the steam-fogged mirror. There was something sticking through his ear. Something metal. So that was what the staring and grinning had been about.
"Son of a--!" Alan wrapped a towel around his waist and stormed into the bedroom, dripping water onto Sven's floor and not caring. "Jiordson! What the hell is this!?" he pointed to his violated ear.
Sven sat up and grinned and then fell back on his bed, giggling. "What does it look like?" he asked.
"What the hell did you do it for!?"
"I didn't," Sven said. "It was the twins' idea. Since you're part of my crew now..."
Alan made a strangling noise. Sven stared at him lazily. Alan was so much fun to tease, Sven could see why Ian had made a hobby of it.
"Jiordson" Alan said through clenched teeth. "I'm going to have to kill you."
And then, because there are certain laws the universe must obey even in an environment with artificially generated gravity, Alan's towel dropped.
Sven shoved a pillow over his face, not so much to obscure his vision as to keep the people in engineering from hearing his laughter.
Alan took a flying leap at the bed and landed on Sven, who swiftly blocked Alan's punches. He grabbed Alan's arms and flipped him over, pinning him to the mattress. Alan quit struggling when he saw he wasn't getting anywhere. He panted and glared at Sven, who had the nerve to look smug.
Sven also had the nerve to look down. Alan turned red. He was going to make some scathing remark, but before he could think of one, Sven's mouth was over his and suddenly it wasn't important.
It wasn't that he'd never thought of kissing Sven, but he hadn't expected Sven to make the first move. Although one could argue that Alan had made the first move by leaping naked onto Sven, that was not the point.
They broke the kiss to catch their breath, and by that time Alan couldn't remember what he'd been angry about. He grasped for words and couldn't find any. The feel of Sven's breath against his lips kept distracting him.
"Alan..." Sven leaned down and whispered into his ear. "You have twenty minutes to get dressed and report for duty."
Alan blinked. "What?"
Sven bounded off of him and headed for the shower. Alan stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up. "You are joking, aren't you, Jiordson?" Alan yelled over the sound of running water.
"That's Captain Jiordson!" Sven called back.
"You know I can't possibly be part of your crew, right? There are regulations!"
That sounded like laughter.
"Jiordson...?"
"Seventeen minutes!" Sven said.
Alan hung his head in defeat. If I get dressed now, he thought, I'll still have time to bang my head against the wall repeatedly. Twelve minutes and several thumping sounds later, Alan walked out of Sven's quarters in search of the nearest commanding officer.
He left the earring in.