Page 22 of Under Control

Tracht was over-thinking things, and Alex wouldn’t realize the implications of the action. At least there was one advantage to Alex’s general lack of awareness.

“Thanks,” Alex said after a few bites. “Were you talking work stuff? ‘Cus you got all quiet when I sat down.”

“No, it was a personal matter,” Singh said, frowning. “Has Nadia been in contact with you?”

“Shouldn’t you know already? Spying on our mails?” Alex looked over at Tracht, and Tracht shook his head.

“I don’t make it a habit these days. I have more important things to do, and I suspect there are no relatives lurking around the corners who would tempt you to abandon your contract.” Tracht lied. He had access to all of Alex’s mails, and routinely checked when he felt like laughing his way through Alex’s clumsy attempts at communication. Not that Alex sent mails to people that often; aside from the occasional ones to Nadia, a few early attempts to contact Parsons which Tracht blocked from ever going anywhere, and sometimes mails to Tracht, Alex wasn’t much of a writer.

“Oh, well, uh. Nadia suggested a few movies for us to watch together,” Alex said, looking cautious. Like he expected Tracht to forbid the outing, despite Tracht having allowed it every other time.

“She didn’t say anything else?” Singh pressed. “Anything about how she’s doing?”

“I dunno. We don’t talk about feelings. Why don’t you just ask her? She actually likes you.” Alex went back to shoveling food into his mouth, and Tracht had to laugh at the inadvertent dig at Singh. Under the table, Tracht slid his boot up Alex’s calf.

Alex didn’t so much as squirm, although his eyes did dart in Tracht’s direction. The first time Tracht had done it, Alex had startled badly and almost fallen out of his chair.

“Well, Alex isn’t wrong there,” Strobel said, clapping Alex on the back and ignoring Alex’s glare. “You really should just talk to her. Communication is the key to all the best relationships.”

“Man, you sound like those romance movie protagonists,” Alex said.

“When have you ever watched a romance movie, Alex?” Tracht dug his heel in a bit harder.

“Huh? Here. Some of the crew members love ‘em. Especially Petersen, he can’t get enough of them. End up hearing a lot of the movies while I’m playing pool.” Alex scowled. “Back when I played pool.”

Something had happened that had broken Alex’s tenuous friendliness with the crew members. Tracht found himself relieved that Alex wasn’t at the point where he could maintain relationships, and he’d been glad that Alex stopped being as social a month into the trip. That was that damned possessiveness of his rearing its head, which Tracht partially wanted to indulge in, and partially despised for its implications.

“Go get me another plate of food, Alex, since you ate all of mine,” Tracht ordered.

Alex stood up, but he also whined, “You said you weren’t hungry. That’s why you gave me yours.”

“So I did. We’ll take the food to my office. Dr. Singh, I wish you luck with your situation. Perhaps Mr. Strobel has the right idea of it. Or perhaps you’ll take my suggestion under consideration.”

Strobel stood as well. “I suppose I should get back and make sure Leitz didn’t steer us off course.”

“I guess that leaves me. I’ll send Nadia that mail, and hopefully there are no medical emergencies between now and when we dock,” Singh said.

They all parted ways, Alex following Tracht with the tray of food to the office. Thankfully Espinosa wasn’t lurking around.

“Why was Singh asking about Nadia?”

Tracht settled into his desk chair and indicated to Alex that he sit by his feet. Alex set the tray with the food on the desk before getting onto the floor.

“Dr. Singh’s affairs are none of your business, Alex. If she had wanted you to know her concerns, she would have told you.” Tracht ran his fingers through Alex’s hair. It was getting a bit too long again; he made a note to make an appointment with his salon on Atalanta. He’d have to get his own hair done too. Maybe afterwards they could dine at a restaurant.

“Fine, whatever. You want me to hold your cock while you eat?” Alex asked. He’d put his hands on the insides of Tracht’s thighs, and although it hadn’t been on Tracht’s mind before, he could hardly refuse when Alex initiated it himself.

“Of course. If you’re good, I might even let you drink my come.”

Chapter 7

They were approaching the station, and everybody was busy getting ready to dock. Tracht sent Espinosa and Alex to oversee the cargo rearrangements, and then sat down at his desk to make a call he had been putting off for a while.

The call went through, although he was told there was no vid connection, only voice. That was already a disconcerting sign.

“Am I speaking to Mr. Iglesias?” Tracht asked.

“Sure, who’s calling?” the person on the other end said, speaking in a thick Pylos accent. From northern Lohra, if Tracht wasn’t mistaken.

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