I enter to find Nil placing towels flat on their bed. Unlike Stan, he looks startled. “Oh, shit, you were right,” he mutters to Stan before speaking more clearly when he turns to me. “Hi again, Em.”
Stan only shrugs. “Told ya so, babe.”
The pressure at my temples makes it difficult to track the meaning behind their exchange. But I follow Stan as he guides me to sit, the mattress moving under me.
“I need to say something,” I tell them, my voice even despite thetightness building behind my eyes.
Stan stills immediately. Nil steps back half a pace.
“I’m attracted to you,” I continue, meeting Nil’s eyes, then Stan’s. “Both of you. That part isn’t ambiguous. I’m aware of it, but perhaps I’ve been denying doing anything about it for quite some time.”
Stan’s mouth curves upwards. Nil’s ears redden.
“I bend rules for outcomes,” I say. “I always have. But having sex with subjects is a line I’m not willing to cross.”
The words settle between us. I wait, searching for their reactions—for tension, for protest, for humor or reassurance to fracture the moment.
Stan exhales slowly and leans back against the dresser. “Okay, that’s fair.” He scratches at his jaw. “But we’re not your subjects, Em.”
I blink at him, eyes wide behind my fogging glasses. The artificial fireplace emits heat, as does my damp collar, so I attribute the condensation to that.
“You’re both participants in my study,” I manage, though the pressure at my temples has intensified, and my fingertips curl into fists, feeling frozen despite the warmth in the room.
“Wewereyour participants,” Stan corrects. “That ended when we left the ship.”
Nil nods. “We’ve been more like housemates lately, Em.”
“Yeah,” Stan adds. “We’re basically a Jack and Jill bathroom away from each other. I mean, fuck’s sake, you saw me buck naked—”
I weakly groan to cut him off, lowering my gaze to my cold, clenched hands.
Silence follows. When Stan doesn’t immediately fill it, I speak again, words spilling out before I can overthink them. “I apologized for that.”
“And I told youanytime,” Stan replies, sitting beside me and reaching for my hand. “I meant it, Em.”
His fingers gently pry one of my fists open to thread the digits together. The contact sends a tremor up my arm. It’s such an unexpectedly pleasant thrill that I can’t possibly pull away.
Nil watches from the bedside. His attention rests on where Stan’s holding me, then lifts to my face, careful and searching.
The intensity of his gaze makes me fidget. I adjust my glasses with my other hand, though they sit perfectly fine on my face.
“The reason I’m here is…” I swallow as my throat tightens. “I came for clarity.”
Stan’s other hand cups my cheek. “Then we’ll give it to you.”
The mattress dips as Nil joins us on my right side. His gold stud on his left ear catches the flicker of the artificial fire.
“What do you need to know from us, Em?” Nil asks, tipping his head down and leaning toward me to be at my eye level.
Heat spreads low in my abdomen, rather insistent for attention aching between my inner thighs. I take in a careful breath, focusing on the artificial fireplace and the rushing rhythm of my heart.
“It seems what I’m hearing from you both is…” I start, choosing my words with care, “desire to perform physical intimacy?”
Stan grins, entirely unapologetic. “Yep.”
Nil takes my other hand tentatively with a looser grip compared to my left hand in Stan’s. “That, yes,” he says. “But also, we want to take care of you.”
He clears his throat, color blooming across his cheekbones and ears. The sight pulls my focus toward him. His gaze is on mine, even when his fingers in mine twitch.
