Dallas | Boatswain | M: Flux (indir: Shai, Yutaka, Vas)

~

Dallas groaned, tilting his head back against the wall. Toffie. He should’ve never let Flux get away with that nickname. But, truth be told, he didn’t actually hate it—not that he’d admit that under pain of death. Every time Flux called him that, it stirred something in his chest, something warm and nostalgic, something that reminded him of that first day, of sticky caramel and soft laughter, of a moment where things felt simple.

Not that things were ever simple.

His foot tapped faster against the floor. "I do know tech," he grumbled, shooting Flux a glare that had no real heat. "I just don’t care about the fancy names. Polar connection system inlet? Sounds like an overcomplicated way to say 'thing that makes the arm work.'” His eyes flicked down, watching the way Flux’s fingers curled around Shai’s arm. He wasn’t jealous exactly—jealousy was stupid, childish—but something in his stomach tightened anyway. He shoved the feeling down, ignoring the way it curled into something bitter at the edges.

Yutaka. Trade post. Shopping. Distractions. That’s what this was. A trap laid out in the open, wrapped up in a grin and easy laughter.

Flux was good at this. Dallas could see what he was doing, how he was dangling the choice in front of him like a goddamn candy bar, making it just tempting enough that Dallas would have to be a complete idiot not to take it.

And, well. Maybe he was an idiot.

"I don’t hide from Vas," Dallas muttered, though they both knew that was a lie. Vas would absolutely come after him the second he was done with whatever hellfire he was putting out. And when Vas was determined, Dallas had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting away unscathed.

His nails scraped at the wall again, just to keep his hands busy. He shouldn’t go. He knew he shouldn’t. He had things to fix, walls to patch, and if he went with Flux, it was just going to make everything worse. Because spending time with him, being close to him, being reminded of how damn easy it was to fall into step with him—it was all dangerous.

But Flux was still looking at him, expectant, that goddamn smirk playing at his lips. Dallas could already hear the teasing if he said no, the inevitable mock disappointment Flux would lay on thick, the smug little ‘guess you really are scared of Vas’ he’d throw in just to get under his skin.

And that? That, Dallas couldn’t allow.

He clicked his tongue, letting out a sharp breath. "Fine." He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the wall like the decision hadn’t been eating him alive for the last few minutes. "But only ‘cause someone’s gotta keep you from getting scammed into buying some shiny piece of junk." He pointed at Flux, narrowing his eyes. "And if you try to shove anything weird into my arms and tell me it’s a gift, I will throw it at your head."

Even as he said it, even as he pretended like this was an inconvenience, the truth sat heavy in his chest.

He wanted to go. He wanted to go so bad it almost hurt.