I stand frozen, unable to look away despite the burningembarrassment flooding through me. I’ve never seen two people engaged in any sexual act before—only drawings.
This is different. Raw. Real. Two bodies finding pleasure in each other, heedless of the simulation or watching eyes.
I’m an intruder; a voyeur witnessing something deeply private. Yet I can’t help noticing details—the flush spreading across Pax’s chest, the way the Enforcer’s abdomen tenses with each breath, the half-lidded pleasure in their eyes.
Something uncomfortable stirs in my lower abdomen—not my bladder this time, but a different kind of tension. A warmth that spreads, my skin prickling beneath its uniform.
My hand raises in wordless apology as I back out of the room, pulling the door closed before retreating. Neither man calls after me or tries to explain. I pause in the hallway, heart pounding.
A part of me envies them. Not specifically what they were doing, but the ability to reach for another person. To find something mutual and desired.
Shuffling back to the ground floor, I wonder how I explain what I found without betraying Pax’s privacy? Is this like Brenner and Corin, where they’d kill another before disclosing their relationship? I wouldn’t think so if neither has followed.
By the time I reach the entrance, everyone is staring at me. The Commander strides forward, his posture rigid and twitchy.
“Well?” he demands? “Where are the others?”
I glance at the surveillance screen, which still cycles through empty streets and buildings. None of the cameras show the room where Pax and the Enforcer are. A small blessing.
“I…” I begin, uncertain how to proceed.
Arayik’s fingers curl at his sides. “Ashford!” he barks, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “Report!”
I hesitate another moment before speaking. “They’re fine.” The words are inadequate. “They’re…occupied.” That earns a chorus of snickers from the other recruits.
Someone calls out from the back, “Never seen a dick before, Ashford? You look uncomfortable.”
Heat floods my face, creeping along my neck and spreading across my cheeks. I’m grateful for the mask right now, though I suspect my body language betrays my embarrassment. If my face weren’t covered, everyone would know I’m not just uncomfortable—I’m mortified.
Yes, I’ve seen male genitalia before, but never on a real person. Never aroused and definitely never being touched by another. The image burns in my mind—Pax pressed against the glass, head thrown back in pleasure, the Enforcer’s hand working both of them in rhythmic strokes.
My head shakes as I try to dislodge the thought. This line of thinking is dangerous and distracting. Inappropriate for someone in my position.
But with this being the second time I’ve witnessed these couplings, my mind wonders: do all the men here engage in such activities? With no women available except those purchased from breeding facilities or taken in raids, how do they satisfy themselves? Do they find comfort with each other, constructing bonds of physical intimacy alongside their professional relationships?
Does Elias…
The questions form before I can stop them. What would Elias look like in such a moment? Would his face—that handsome face I saw briefly in the simulation room—flush with pleasure? Would his stomach muscles tense and release like the Enforcer’s did? Would his hands be gentle or demanding?
What would his body feel like under my touch? Would his skin be softer than it appears, or rough with the calluses of lifeas a soldier? Would he have hair on his chest, trailing down and down to where…
A crack of thunder directly overhead jolts me from my inappropriate reverie. The storm has intensified again, sheets of rain driving in horizontal patterns across the training ground. Kellen is speaking, ordering everyone to return to the transports. I’ve been lost in my thoughts like an idiot, missing whatever conclusion was reached about the exercise.
I follow the group mechanically, my mind still caught between embarrassment and unwanted arousal. There’s too many things happening inside me right now, I just need to get back to the training center and sleep it off.
After I race to the bathroom, of course.
My back settles against a bench in transport two, Killian across from me, the container we recovered clutched in his hands. He’s animatedly describing our strategy to the other recruits, emphasizing his kill count and failing to mention my contribution. I should be annoyed, but I’m too exhausted to care.
As the vehicle lurches into motion, I close my eyes, allowing the vibrations rumble through my aching body. Today’s exercise has opened doors in my mind I’m not sure I’m ready to walk through—questions about power, agency, intimacy, and desire that have no easy answers in this broken world.
I did what I did with the captured Enforcer because I was thinking strategically. In a real combat situation, taking the enemy leader alive would be more valuable than killing them. They would have intelligence, connections, the ability to order their subordinates to surrender. One death versus the potential of many lives saved through the information they could provide.
That was my rationale, at least. But a small voice whispersthat perhaps I also wanted to prove I’m different—that I don’t share the same callous disregard for life these men have demonstrated.
That I can complete a mission without leaving a trail of bodies and tears in my wake.
Does that make me weak in their eyes? Or inefficient? Either way, I didn’t follow the established pattern. I deviated. Made a choice that marked me as different.
