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Life on an infested ship was drab. Alad knew it, Tyl knew it, the Infested with half a brain cell that resided there knew it. After a certain amount of time, one learned which ways the corridors led, which doors not to open, all the intricacies of the vent passages and all the nooks and crannies of storage spaces. While it was fascinating that the Myconians that resided here previously had created a safe little "bubble" on the ship, Alad was becoming bored of it. Hell, before Tyl rid him of his mutated self, he'd seen the rest of the ship and got bored of that too.
However, it felt different to have company. It was something new, something unknown, perhaps forgotten to Alad after spending his time in the company of mindless creatures. This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. To think that Tyl Regor, previously an enemy to him and the Corpus, was now helping him evade a slimy, infested death, oh how funny that would have been in the days past. Right now though, it was reality for him.
Tyl had performed hours of surgeries on him, just picking bits of infested flesh from Alad's body, even going so far as to engineer him a brand new pair of limbs, an arm and a leg that he could not save. Luckily for him, the Grineer were experts at replacing body parts - he just had to learn how to use them. Walking, at first, was excruciating. He couldn't take one step with his new leg without stumbling, leading to many frustration-fueled attempts, none of which proved successful, until he took the time to figure out how to adjust. Eventually, he took a step, and then another, and another. It was clumsy, but he was doing better than before.
Having Tyl by his side through all of it was, as odd as it sounded, comforting. During his fall from the Board of Directors, there was nobody he could lean onto for support, until he'd spiraled too far. It was ultimately his own fault, he was aware, but being alone in all of the vast expanse of space was torturous. Never mind the terrifying whispers of the hivemind that had pervaded every fibre of his being, making sure that even in his loneliness, he was never by himself. Now that the whispers were gone, his only company (a much more pleasant one, in comparison at least) was his enemy. Or so he said.
Tyl had been supportive, rather than leaving Alad to his own devices after cleaning him up. He stayed for observation to make sure he was safe and healing, he acted as a crutch to help him walk, and after all of that, Alad couldn't help but feel that perhaps they weren't enemies to each other anymore. What other motives could he have for an ex-Corpus that had lost practically everything and had nowhere to go? Alad had given him the juiciest bits of information already, told him all he'd learned about the Infestation, and yet Tyl stayed.
Why?
What more was there to learn? Or was he after the experience? This was foreign to both of them, and their every move erred on the side of caution, as if getting along for once was an unspeakable crime. It's not treason if you don't belong to a faction, is it?
All Alad could do was wait for the opportune moment to ask. Until then, he would bide his time, focus on regaining the physical strength that the Infestation took from him.
He'd noticed Tyl overworked himself constantly. Always working on something, it wasn't a rare occasion to find him lost in his research for hours on end. Whenever he wasn't helping Alad exercise his new limbs, he was looking over his notes and trying to find new information in them, or conducting experiments on scavenged Infested flesh. The facilities left over from the Myconians provided him most of the equipment for experiments, and naturally, he couldn't take this work back to Uranus, unless he wanted somebody to find out about his little allegiance.
Alad was aware that Grineer were hardworking drones, but he didn't realise it was this extreme. Tyl barely slept, but he supposed that in their society, sleep was also a mandated activity, and there wasn't much emphasis on it. The time they had allotted for sleep must have been minimal to make more room for the military interests of the Empire, or, in Tyl's case, scientific progress.
Frankly, Alad worried; for Tyl's sake. He couldn't deny that his scientific prowess was unmatched, and his devotion to it was commendable, but his work ethic couldn't have been healthy.
Damn him, why was he worried?
"Perhaps you should take a break."
Alad's voice broke the deafening silence of the laboratory room as he stepped in, startling Tyl and causing him to flinch and curse under his breath in what sounded like rough Grineer. He sighed out a deep breath, turning from the counter. "I don't exactly have time to spare."
"For?" Alad questioned, brow raised in interest.
"The Queens expect me to come up with progress. Failure to do so will have consequences," Tyl said, an apparent worry in his voice. Seemed like even a high-ranking Grineer like him was held under constant pressure to serve the Empire. In some ways, Alad could relate - being invested into and failing to present progress, with the risk of exile or perhaps worse.
"Is what I've told you not enough?" He asked, limping a few steps closer to lean onto the counter for support. "Mutalist technology could greatly advance you weaponry-"
"That's not what I'm after," Tyl cut him off before he could even voice his thoughts, frustrated, "you should know."
Alad did know. The constant search for gene repair, the inevitability of decay if he cannot find a viable method to reverse it. He couldn't imagine living such a life, short and violent, stifled and afraid to voice one's true thoughts. Tyl was oddly free now, and in an unsupervised environment - he could express himself. Just like Alad could.
"Why are you subjecting yourself to this then?" He asked the question without thought. The look Tyl shot him confirmed that perhaps he had stepped over a line.
"I am not to question the Queens."
Alad knew he could leave it be and not get involved in Grineer matters. He could live without picking Tyl's brain for an insight to what went on in his life. But what did he have to lose if he did anyway?
"Is that what you've been taught, or what you've decided to believe?" He was prodding. Pushing buttons he should not be pushing. It was a challenge for Tyl.
A long, hesitant silence followed as Tyl turned away, mulling over his words. Uncomfortable, expectant of something that neither knew what it would lead to. Yet, they had the opportunity.
However, the answer never came, and Tyl only calmly gathered up his notes and set them aside for another time. He said nothing as he brushed past Alad, the thuds of his footsteps gradually disappearing into the silence of the corridors.
Alad knew he had pushed too far.
Why would I care?
Tyl had been asking himself that question for days on end now. There was no reason for him to stay here, and telling Alad that he couldn't go back was a lie on his part. He could easily make something up for his reports on how he acquired all this knowledge, and nobody would question him.
Why?
Because it was too easy? Too easy to go back and live with this… experience? All he had to do was shut Alad up, and initially, that had been his plan; get what he needs and cover his tracks. The system already thought of him as dead, nothing would change. So why would he have trouble going through with it?
Maybe it was out of pity. Alad had nowhere to go, even after this, who would even take him back? Not with Bek in his former position. Tyl could see he wanted to go back to his previous life, but he also saw the harsh truth behind the want - he was never going to have it again. Putting him out of his misery seemed like the most merciful way, for both of them, but execution was a harsh verdict for someone that didn't exactly pose a threat.
Emotions were pretty hard to process, now that Tyl felt them gnawing through his brain. Grineer weren't exactly known for being emotional, save for anger and hate. The more he thought of the principles that had been instilled in him since day one, the more they seemed restrictive, taking away his freedom of expression. All he wanted was to learn about the world around him, and learning these things about himself was scarier than any knowledge he'd pursued before.
It felt wrong. It went against all of his beliefs. The beliefs of what the Grineer Empire stood for.
If he couldn't follow those, was he not just a common traitor?
"Is that what you've been taught, or what you've decided to believe?"
Alad's question weighed heavily on Tyl's mind, disorienting and confusing. He believed in learning, analysis and curiosity, that was in his power and position to do, and he had been taught to use that as a driving force for research that would benefit the Empire. However… did he want to? Science could not be limited in such a way, seeing only the things beneficial for a cause that was not even his, and ignoring or erasing the rest. Science was science, no matter what. Tyl knew why he didn't want to go back, but admitting it meant renouncing his position, his loyalty, everything he stood for.
"I am a traitor," he murmured to himself defeatedly, back leaned against the cold metal wall of the room he'd taken as a temporary residence. There was no way of going around it. Despite how quiet they were, his thoughts alone went against the Queens, and his actions were left unjustified. No matter which angle he looked at himself from, he didn't belong to his kin.
He let his arms hang limp by his sides, staring into the ceiling blankly, thinking about everything and nothing all at once.
Why did Alad make him care?
Tyl had only one choice to make to answer that question.
The view from the bridge of the ship was spectacular. Alad frequented it for its calm atmosphere, counting the stars for what felt like the millionth time, lost in empty thoughts, sometimes reminiscing about his past, sometimes contemplating his fleeting future. Where he'd been before and where he could go now were worlds apart, both seeming unattainable. He could only entertain the memories of what he once had, where he once felt belonging. Outside of that, the only thing he had was himself. But perhaps he could-
The sound of a sliding door interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to turn around even though he knew who had entered the room. His heart had jumped into his throat, a sudden nervousness settling over him as he feared that Tyl was still holding a grudge. Each step he took closer made his chest tighten more, until he was trying to suppress his trembling as Tyl stopped next to him, gazing out into space, seeming as stoic as he always did.
Alad didn't know what would happen. Who would break the silence, what would they even say?
Why was he so worked up over what Tyl felt?
He took a deep breath.
"I'm-"
"I-"
The uncomfortable silence lasted too long, both of them remaining staring out the window before them and waiting once again for one of them to speak up.
"You first," Tyl finally offered, glancing over at Alad with what may have been an apologetic look, so uncharacteristic of him.
He cleared his throat, willing his heart to be still long enough for him to collect the words that sat like lead in his mouth. "I'm... sorry for, what I said, before- It's- not in my right to question your beliefs," he stuttered, tripping over his own words, but at least managing to get them out.
Another uncomfortable silence followed, and Alad could have sworn if another second passed, he would die because of it. Then, a heavy hand situated itself on his shoulder, and he had to hold his breath, bracing for it to squeeze, crush, something. When it never came, he dared to look up.
"Don't apologise for curiosity," Tyl began, his head tilting in Alad's direction, "I never answered you, if you'd still like to know."
It felt like being hit with a brick; Alad was in such utter disbelief. Was it really okay? Could a Grineer just… forgive like that without planning to backstab him? Shocked and in awe, he nodded with a shaky breath, "I would."
"I do not question my teachings. They're finite, and exist as a constant in my life, but that doesn't mean I don't possess my own thoughts." He paused, letting out a deep sigh that sounded almost mournful. "My thoughts are my own. There are things that I have to keep to myself, even if they come from a place of logic."
So there was more to him than what he let on. Tyl did understand, more than the average Grineer grunt, the pressure of a society that didn't allow free and independent thinking. He was just extremely good at hiding it, given the fear of execution was likely the motivation behind it. The man was a well of unexplored secrets, everything a ruthless Grineer was on the outside, but nothing alike it on the inside.
Alad wanted to know him. He wanted to understand him.
It brought a gentle smile to his face, the situation they were in, the fact that they were stood here, slowly opening themselves to one another. A catharsis they were never allowed before, but had the freedom to have now.
Carefully, he lifted Tyl's hand off his shoulder, keeping a hold on it as he looked up at him. "Not here, Regor. You can be yourself here," he said, taking the smallest step closer to him, hopeful that he would trust his words. "It might be the only chance you have. That both of us have."
Tyl stayed quiet, but his hold on Alad's hand tightened. As if he was afraid of startling him, Tyl reached slowly for his other hand, bashfully holding both and averting his eyes. If Alad's heart wasn't already skipping beats, this time, he was sure he felt it skip a few.
"I know," Tyl mumbled then, his cold, metallic thumbs gently tracing over his knuckles, testing how the touch feels, unsure if he should even allow it. When he wasn't scolded or otherwise reprimanded, rather encouraged by Alad's oddly sweet smile, it felt like a weight slowly lifting off his chest. They could have this, if only for themselves, but they could.
"This is safe between us," Alad encouraged, pulling his hands out of the hold carefully and sliding them up Tyl's arms, his own metal hand dully scraping until it met the rubber of his suit. Tyl twitched, as if afraid, and for a moment, they stood as still as the universe around them.
"Sorry," was all Tyl could muster up, whispered just loud enough to be heard. "Not used to it."
"Don't apologise for curiosity," Alad quoted him, softly placing his hands back down and continuing to trail them upwards. Every inch of muscle shivered under his fingertips, tensing and relaxing while Tyl's breath hitched ever so slightly. It was absolutely exhilarating, this sensation of a gentle touch, so unknown it made their skin crawl almost uncomfortably, but kept them wanting to explore more.
Eventually, Tyl lowered himself down to kneel, letting Alad reach his shoulders without having to make him stand on his tiptoes. Now that they were like this, face to face, it felt even harder to keep breathing steadily. Tyl's hands found themselves reaching to Alad's waist, shaking like he was going to break him if he went too fast.
"I don't know how to- if this is- is this alright?"
"More than alright," Alad whispered back, staring into the apertures of Tyl's eyes as if he was trying to see through them.
What they had been before was just a façade, they knew. Their hate for each other built upon nothing but ideas instilled into their minds. This was absurd, foolish, silly beyond belief; but in that absurdity, there was truth. It wouldn't be happening if there wasn't an ounce of honesty in them.
Momentarily, Tyl hesitated, studying Alad's face for any indication of discomfort, yet finding only sincerity. When he seemed to have found his courage again, his arms wound themselves fully around his waist, palms resting on his back and pulling him, no, just barely nudging him closer into his embrace.
There was no reason to be afraid of each other anymore, to hold their breath, as the warmth that bubbled up in them confirmed as much. Alad might as well have melted against him, arms draped around Tyl's shoulders as he pressed himself against his broad chest, head tucked under his chin. He may have been built for a militaristic utility, but this must have been his second calling. They stayed motionless, just holding each other tightly and soaking it all in. Their heartbeats, their breathing, the small, subtle shapes their fingers traced into their suits.
In the serene calm, without a care in the universe, they belonged somewhere again, together.
"Thank you," Tyl murmured, and Alad felt his arm shift slightly before he heard a click, then something hitting the floor with a clack and a skitter. He thought for a second to figure out what it may have been, but Tyl was already pulling back from their hold, and before he could protest, their eyes met for the first time, without anything in between. That known glow of Grineer eyes peered right through him, and for all he cared, he would have let it consume him if it meant seeing Tyl forever.
Without realising it, Alad was smiling again.
"Have I ever mentioned how remarkable you are?" he blurted, and less than a second later, realised that he had done it out loud. His cheeks burned in sudden embarrassment.
"I-... no, but you have now," Tyl said abashedly, glancing away to hide his expression. "You are too. So, so remarkable."
If this was not perfection, then he did not want to be a descendant of the Orokin. He would have given anything up, his entire legacy if he had to, just to freeze this one moment in time, to replay it over and over, hold onto it until his infinity ran out. This was his perfection.
Alad's palm rested on Tyl's cheek to tilt his gaze back towards himself, leaning in so close that they could feel each other's breath on their skin. Neither of them pushed further for more, but eventually, without knowing when it happened, their lips had fitted together into an experimental kiss. No rush, no thoughts as they kept their lips locked.
When they pulled away, it was reluctant, as if everything around them would shatter if they didn't commit and burn it into their memories. However long it took, they were sure they would never forget.
"Only between us," Alad whispered, still feeling the press of Tyl's lips on his own, wishing for more. "Only between us," Tyl repeated as if to assure him.
He couldn't tell how long they stayed on the bridge. Time had stopped existing just for them.
The only tangible things they felt were the sweet kisses shared in their hidden corner of space, touches that may not have even happened, and whispers that were only heard in feeling.
This was their perfection.