The Freedom To Choose

Chapter 2 Uncertainty

Logan knocked on the door to Harlock's quarters. He took another deep breath and held it while he waited. The silence stretched on and on, nearly a minute without a single sound emanating from within. He started to wonder if the Captain was even in his room; the mysterious man had a strange habit of wandering the ship at all hours of the day and night, hardly sleeping and often mumbling to the ship. It was highly likely that the room was empty. Logan was just about to knock again to be sure he had simply not heard the first knock when the door slid open to reveal a disgruntled captain who looked as if he had just gotten out of bed.

Logan had never seen the Captain in any attire aside from his usual black leather, thick-soled boots, and flashy cape so he was surprised to speechlessness. Harlock was barefoot, wearing slim, gray sleep pants and a dark blue shirt with short sleeves. There was no black, no shoes, no leather, no skulls, even his eyepatch was nowhere to be seen, his shaggy hair hanging in his face, nearly obscuring both of his eyes. Logan could see them, though. They were probably what surprised him the most as normally such a bodily appearance would mean bleariness and drooping lids, but Harlock's one good eye was just as intense and piercing as normal, belying the state of his rumpled clothes and frazzled hair.

Suddenly, Logan's mouth felt dry and his palms sweaty. He never would have expected that seeing the Captain looking so normal would have been far more alluring than his commanding tone while rousing the crew members' morale or his flamboyant manner of flying the Arcadia. The desire that shot through him was instantaneous and powerful and Logan suddenly had the strongest urge to either drag the man down by his shirt and kiss his slim, soft lips, or flee. In all honesty, he was leaning toward the latter but at a cough from said man he realized he had knocked on the door with the obvious desire to speak with the captain and was now standing in the exact same position as he had been since Harlock had opened the door, likely nearly a full minute earlier.

"Yes, Logan?"

Logan was perfectly motionless, his fist still raised as if to knock, and his mouth slightly parted from his jaw slackened out of shock at seeing the Captain looking so utterly human. He tended to forget that despite his immortality and supernatural strength because of the dark matter, ultimately Harlock was still a human. And him being a human being meant he needed to sleep, and to sleep in comfortable clothing, just as much as anyone else. It was still strange, however, that the realization only made him even more aware of how much he wanted. He wanted so fiercely he could hardly breathe.

"Uhh..."

Eloquent Logan, very intelligent.

His mind was blank, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. It was not as if he had had any real ideas as to what he wanted with the Captain at such a late hour anyway, and now he was at a total loss, what with the ridiculous, what should be totally normal, vision in front of him. He wracked his brain frantically, trying to think of something, anything, he could say to explain why he was standing there (with his fist still raised awkwardly, mind you) simply staring.

"Would you like to come in?"

In? In where?

Harlock had stepped back a bit from the doorway and swung an arm out in a gesture of welcome, which was when Logan's brain finally kickstarted, realizing that the Captain was inviting him into his bedroom.

And what, exactly, was he supposed to do with that? Since he had so rudely awakened Harlock he supposed it was only polite if he accepted the offer and found some reasonable excuse to stick around for at least a couple of minutes. He was not sure what exactly that would be. He was there mostly because his feet and his subconscious had drug him there without him even realizing it, simply because he found the man... fascinating? Enchanting? He was not really sure how to describe the odd attraction he had toward the Captain. It was more than a regular physical desire, more than an appreciation for the man's comeliness, more than the hope to be accepted as a useful crew member, more than than a desire to please him, and, as weird as it was for him to think it, more than pure lust and a craving to take the man apart with yearning; this was like magnets, a powerful pulling from himself to the other, dragging and straining constantly and insistently, begging to be given in to. It was as heavy and maddening as an addiction with an intensity like a stench invading his nostrils.

Regardless of what he might want, it was entirely impossible to ignore. He was not sure he wanted to ignore it. In fact, he was rather sure that his trip to the Captain's door was because he had reached his breaking point where the want he was feeling was finally stronger than his sense of propriety, self-preservation, or awareness of his situation. In all reality, at this point it no longer mattered what his situation was, being a government plant on the ship, since he had already been discovered by the ship's commander. His position on board had been risky to begin with and now it was downright precarious. There was little Logan could do that would make it any worse and he was tired of pretending that what he felt toward Harlock was not there. He was tired and frustrated as it was and resisting his feelings was not helping; he was sick of ignoring it.

Speaking of ignoring.

He was still standing outside the door while Harlock watched him with amusement etched across his face. At least he had finally put his hand down sometime during the last few moments while he got lost in his thoughts. Again. Logan shook his head back and forth a couple of times, trying to clear it from wandering thoughts, then flicked his eyes back to the Captain's and nodded. A slight smile touched Harlock's lips and he lowered his head slightly in response, letting his outstretched hand slide just a little farther to indicate that Logan should proceed into the room. Logan abruptly took the few steps necessary, feeling weird about moving after having stood still for so long, and walked past Harlock, planted his feet, and crossed his arms before turning around. The door slid back into place and Harlock shifted to lean against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and one foot planted on the wall behind him. Somehow he managed to look relaxed yet still powerful and intimidating, despite the fact that his usual menacing attire was absent. He had a slight smirk and his one visible eyebrow was raised with amusement.

"So, what did you want?" And that was when Logan realized: He was in Captain Harlock's bedroom. Alone. In the middle of the night. With absolutely no excuse or anything to talk about.

Shit.


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