“Ah,” Tennal said blankly, as the colors around him became more vivid, the sun brighter, the shade deeper. Surit had asked to come with him. Even more than Surit’s smile when he saw him, this made Tennal’s chest feel like there was a pool of molten metal inside it. “I’m coming back,” he hastened to add. “It won’t be that long before I’m here again. If you…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

Surit said thoughtfully, “And when you get back? What will you do?”

“I don’t know. Politics, maybe,” Tennal said. It didn’t sound as flippant as it should; or maybe Surit knew him too well, because that was the first thing Tennal had said that genuinely surprised him. Tennal swallowed. “Look, I don’t think there are any winners from what we went through. I don’t trust my aunt, and I don’t think she should have everything her own way. I’ve concluded that I can be a nightmare and do something useful.” He took a breath. “Being a nightmare might be helpful, in fact.”

Surit’s expression was now indescribable, the twitch of his mouth both familiar and totally foreign. Tennal was shocked with how much he wanted to lay his fingertips on Surit’s jaw and feel the tiny shifts of the muscles. “You were never a nightmare.”

Tennal looked at the corner of Surit’s mouth and his warm eyes. He thought of waking up on a Cavalry ship in chaotic space and thinking, Do I love him? He thought of putting Surit back together and realizing: You love me too. “I meant it,” Tennal said, more quietly. “All of it. I don’t know about you, but I meant it.”

Surit made a choked noise. He turned over his hand, palm up. He reached out.

Tennal pushed himself off the bench he was leaning against and seized Surit’s hand like the last tether to an airlock. He’d kissed Surit before. He didn’t remember this rush like he was drowning, the last vestiges of their sync merging. Tennal closed his hand over Surit’s shoulder, feeling the warm press of his skin through the rough weave of his shirt. Surit was as solid as a rooted tree, as warm as the sunlight. The kiss sent a flood of heat through Tennal’s bones—but it was more than that. Tennal knew this was an orbit he could always return to.

“You said there weren’t winners,” Surit said against his mouth.

“You can always cheat though,” Tennal said. “I was told you weren’t even supposed to see me, Lieutenant Yeni. Does that count as cheating?”

“No, because it’s you,” Surit said. Tennal didn’t have to be a reader to understand the swell of joy, because he felt it too. “I don’t care about orders. It’s always been you.”