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It took a while for Vace to leave the dreamy haze that kept him contained to the bed.
He tried to wake up three times, but every time he did, he seemed to melt into the heat of the body next to him, nuzzling his face further into the boy's neck. The scent of fresh spices lulled him back to sleep.
When he finally woke for the fourth and final time. It was to the feeling of fingers threading through his hair, occasionally tugging at the knotted strands.
It was nearly silent in the room, nobody talking loud enough to wake him up, no shrill alarm making his heart jump in his chest whenever he heard it.
It may have been quiet, but the space was still full of noise, an oddly intoxicating form of music.
He could hear the ship hum around him, accompanied by the clatter and groan of the pipes. He could hear the sound of his shallow breathing and the deep inhales of the boy next to him. The boy's heartbeat was slow, beating steadily like the sound of a drum, and his own beat frantically accompanied the array of sounds.
Vace pressed his eyes closed, refusing to open them. Instead, he pushed his face into the boy's chest. He wanted to preserve this moment for a couple more seconds before he was forced into the real world.
The boy beside him didn't have the same idea; he froze and removed his hand from Vace's hair.
Vace was ready for him to pull away entirely, but instead, he felt the same fingers trail down his face until they were under his chin. His head was tilted up until his eyes met blue and gold.
Rex smiled at him softly, his palm cupping Vace's face. He leaned in even closer to him, close enough that he could feel his eyelashes flutter against his skin.
In a raspy voice, Rex whispered a quiet good morning. Or, at least, something that sounded like one; it was interrupted by Vace pressing his lips against his impatiently.
He couldn't help it, not when Rex looked and smiled at him like that. He desperately pulled him closer until Rex lay on top of him. Kissing him back just as hard as Vace was.
Rex's hands found his way back up to Vace's hair, pushing it back and away from his face before twisting his fingers around it again, pulling harshly enough to make a whine escape from Vace's mouth.
Rex pulled away at the sound, "Oh, you liked that," he drawled out, smiling mischievously down at Vace before leaning down to press kisses against his neck. His hands drifted down Vace's bare chest.
It was intoxicating; Rex's body pressed his against his own, the feeling of his hands pressing against his body. The presses of his lips travelling lower.
Vace felt breathless, swallowing as much air as he could. He hated that Rex could always make him feel like everything was too much and not enough at the same time. Like the world was spinning and still at the same time. His legs felt weak, and he was sure he would have fallen by now if he hadn't been lying in bed.
Vace couldn't ever remember wanting something he couldn't have, but here he was, lying under Rex, desperately wanting more than he could. When it came to Rex, he always wanted more.
Rex's lips made their way up his body, reaching Vace's neck. And then his right shoulder, where he bit down into, causing Vace to gasp.
Rex whispered in his ear, "How about we continue where we left off last night" his breath brushed against his skin.
He could feel Rex pull back from him, trying to glance at his face.
Vace turned his head away completely, avoiding looking directly at Rex; he couldn't do this, not anymore, not again.
He could feel Rex rolling his body off of him, leaving a space between them, "What's wrong," Rex asked, his voice wavering with anxiety.
Vace moved too, pulled himself up until he sat, leaning against the headboard. Creating even more distance between them.
Vace needed space, yet even without their bodies touching, he could still feel the heat radiating off of Rex's body.
Last night was a one-time thing, he told himself it would be, yet he was on the verge of succumbing to the same weakness that overtook him that night.
He couldn't bring himself to tell Rex that, not with him looking at him with his head tilted in concern. He didn't know how to tell him that he didn't want to see him anymore.
Vace cleared his throat, removing any hint of a waiver that would have given away the regret bubbling up in his chest, "We have training; we should go before we're late."
Training was an escape, a way he could throw his body into running and fighting, and for a moment, he wouldn't think about Rex until he would see him across the training hall, being lectured or flirting with one of the other cadets.
He tried to avoid looking into Rex's eyes, he stared at the wall, the locker, and then the door, but he couldn't help himself, and his eyes continued to drift toward him.
Rex looked guilty, like he was trying to compress himself into something smaller, avoiding looking at him.
It seemed they were both staring at each other, yet they looked right past as if the other didn't exist. Refusing to look deeper, refusing to see what the other one may have been feeling.
"About that…" Rex paused, "We're already an hour late for training." he finished, rubbing the back of his neck.
Rex looked apologetic when he said it, but the guilt radiating off him proved that he had intended for them to be late. Rex stretched out his hand, reaching out to grab at Vace. Before he could, Vace jolted away from him.
Rex knew how much training mattered to Vace, and yet he still decided to sabotage him in this way. The way that he sabotaged him last night when he led him into that room and into the bed.
"Vace, comes on, it won't be that bad." He could hear Rex try to reason behind him, "I've missed a practice before."
Vace ignored his pleading; he pushed himself off the bed and started reaching for the ground, looking for the crumpled clothing of his uniform that had found its way to the floor the night before.
He shoved his legs into his pants, letting the scowl on his face tell Rex the only response he needed to hear. He was angry at allowing himself to end up here again - last time, it had been the closet used for cleaning supplies, the time before that was the kitchen at midnight, and now here he was in Rex's bed, returning to his same old mistakes.
Vace wasn't like Rex.
While Rex would receive a slap on the wrist for being late, Vace would be instructed to run laps until he dropped; if it wasn't running laps, it was kitchen duty. Vace couldn't be late, he couldn't afford it if he wanted the chance to be a lieutenant, and Rex always seemed to be in his way.
Vace wasn't like Rex.
He couldn't be; he didn't like Rex - didn't want to like Rex. Rex was only a distraction, a way to relieve his anxiety and get rid of his frustrations over how training had gone.
Rex had gone silent; during the ordeal, making no move to reach out to Vace anymore. Vace preferred it this way; he knew how easy it would be for him to give in if he felt him and how easy it would be to turn around, kiss him, and forget his worries.
Vace stood up, tucking his shirt into his uniform as he began to search for his shoes. He found one right next to the door, but he couldn't locate the second one and couldn't remember where it had landed when he kicked it off.
The sound of a clearing throat pulled Vace out of his thoughts, making him glance up at Rex, who had moved to stand in front of him; his hand outstretched, holding the shoe that Vace had lost.
He looked like a lost puppy; his multi-colored eyes were wide with regret, and brown ears pressed flat against his head.
Vace could feel the ice that built around his heart melt, dripping down into his stomach and filling it with regret.
It wasn't just Rex's fault, he wanted it to be, but he had ended up there because of his own choices.
A realization he chose not to admit to him; he took the shoe carefully and slipped it onto his foot before tying the laces.
When he straightened, Rex was still standing there looking at him with the same lost puppy face he had before.
Vace shook his head before giving up; a sigh escaped his mouth as the tenseness in his shoulders relaxed.
"Look," he began, "don't worry about it, just make sure you get to training," he said, watching Rex's face perk up immediately, his ears tilting back up, flopping at the tips.
Vace smiled at the expression before slipping out the door, "Make sure you leave a couple of minutes after me," he whispered, glancing around to ensure there was no one to hear.
Shutting the door on Rex's laughter and what sounded like an attempt at an "I will!"
As soon as the door shut behind him, he broke out into a jog. Running towards the gym where they would be going over self-defense and combat.
He ran faster than he should have, at an uneven pace that strained his lungs.
He hoped that if he arrived sooner, even out of breath, the drill instructor would take pity on him.
Vace quickly realized that wouldn't be the case as he came staggering into the gym out of breath with his face flushed red.
The sound of the door slamming open brought everyone's attention to him, including the drill instructor.
"We were wondering if you were going to join us today," the instructor growled out, his jaw tensed, the vein in his neck bulging as if it was on the verge of bursting.
The drill instructor stalked towards him, circling him the way a wild animal would, getting ready to pounce and rip out his flesh.
Vace wasn't wrong; the drill instructor was out for flesh and blood, except he was peeling the layers off his skin, showing his insecurities for his peers to see. Reminding him that he was beneath him, beneath all of them.
Given a chance, the cadets would soon join, pounce on him in his moment of weakness.
"Hair a mess,"
"Uniform wrinkled"
"Even a button missing from your shirt,"
The instructor spits out, his words dripping out past his teeth as if they were venom.
Vace tried to stand his ground, his sweat dripping down his face. He didn't know if the cause was the frantic run to the gym or the fear that plagued him.
He stared past the instructor, past his peers, who stared at him with smirks; he stared at the training dummies imagining himself punching them instead of feeling the way the words hit against his body.
Vace wished he had stopped for a moment and tried to fix his appearance before he ran in here.
He knew what it must look like for everyone else, him coming in with his hair a mess, uniform wrinkled like it had been lying on the floor, a button missing as if it was ripped off. They would have to be stupid not to see the clues, and he knew that Rex stumbling in at any moment would prove the thoughts circulating in their heads.
Vace fucked up, he knew he fucked up, and here he was being served on a platter to the vultures because he couldn't stop making the same mistakes over and over again.
The instructor stopped moving, stopping in front of him, glancing over Vace's body, doing another inspection of how he was dressed, and a sneer formed on his face.
"Twenty laps around the gym; clearly, you need the practice in running," he laughed, stepping away.
Vace waited a moment before he let himself breathe again; he was on the verge of turning to go and stretch before the voice of his instructor interrupted him again, "and a month of cleaning the dishes in the kitchen."
He waited until the drill instructor turned towards the other cadets and started barking orders at them before he let himself relax slightly.
Vace walked over to the sidelines, doing slow and meticulous stretches to prepare his body for the exhausting run ahead.
The punishment was bad, torturous even, but it couldn't beat the shame seeping into his skin, infecting his bones.
Vace broke into a slow jog, keeping an even pace as he ran.
By the ninth lap, he felt like collapsing, his body felt way too hot, and the sweat plastered his hair against his forehead. His knees felt weak as he ran, and all he wanted to do was fall to the ground and nap.
He had to finish the twenty laps; letting his body drop and letting himself give up would have even larger consequences than the ones he had to experience right now.
Vace wanted to give up, but the fear coursing through his body kept him running, making him go faster and faster, desperately wanting to finish.
Giving up was another sign of weakness that his classmates would use to torture him with.
He was always the weakest and smallest, and they never failed to remind him of it; he was a waste of resources.
It wasn't until last year, when he reached a massive growth spurt causing him to tower over many of his peers, that they treated him with an ounce of respect.
Living on the Heliopause was brutal; it didn't matter how kind you were, what mattered was strength, and if you lacked it, the rest would pounce on you like a pack of hungry dogs.
When Vace reached the twentieth lap, his legs were shaking, his body trembling from the exertion.
He made his way towards the rest of the cadets, who had moved over towards the training dummies, practicing punches and hits they had been reviewing for weeks.
He wiped his face before practicing a slow series of hits on the dummies; he took it easy, letting his body rest as he threw slow punches.
The peace didn't seem to last as soon the door came slamming open, and Rex was waltzing in.
He smiled at the drill instructor without a care in the world as he got scolded.
He had a lazy smile on his face, his shirt half tucked with his shirt mostly unbuttoned, showing off his chest and neck that, were littered with purple and brown bruises.
Many of the darker ones were left by Vace, the three resting near Rex's collarbone were his, but the dark purple one sprouting right under Rex's jaw on his neck was new.
They had not been there the night before.
Vace turned away sharply, ensuring that Rex wouldn't catch him staring, as he landed a rough kick to the center of the dummy - right where the stomach would be.
He didn't care. Rex meant nothing to him; last night meant nothing to him.
It didn't matter that Vace had just left Rex a couple of hours ago; when he last saw him, Rex had been kissing his body. It didn't matter that, right after he left, Rex had found somebody else to occupy his time.
Vace knew what Rex was like, he should have seen this coming miles away, yet he continued to hit the training dummy harder and harder.
Rex wasn't his; he had never been his, but Vace couldn't help but wish he was.
He wished Rex was his, and he wished that he had never met him because even if Rex was different, even if Rex wanted him the way that Vace wanted him, Rex would still never be his.
Not on the Heliopause, not in this world.
He hated himself; he hated Rex.
He hated that he could let his defenses crumble so quickly that he would be punished in his moments of weakness, and Rex would never receive anything more than a scolding.
Rex wasn't weak; Rex wasn't weak like him.
He hated Rex, yet he couldn't help keep his eyes from drifting toward him. Checking in on him to see how he was doing; it wasn't because he liked him.
No, Vace hated Rex.
Rex was competition, and if Vace ever wanted to be a Lieutenant, he would have to be better than him.
His career was the only thing that mattered.
It was pointless to keep an eye out on Rex's training because even though the boy had been late, he didn't even try to do what he was supposed to.
Instead, Rex stood, only a couple of training dummies away from him, flirting with one of the older girls, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Vace took a step forward; he didn't know what he was going to do. If he was going to scold Rex, or shove the girl away.
He didn't get the chance to find out; the drill instructor was shouting at them to line up to be partnered up for some sparring.
Some of the fights lasted quick; an older girl against a younger boy who had him pinned to the floor in seconds, two tall and burly guys ended within minutes when one of them tripped the other, and the one who fell slammed his head roughly against the floor.
Other fights lasted long; opponents who were evenly matched struggled to be the winner.
When Vace's name was called, it was soon followed by Rex's with a taunt coming from their instructor, "I'm sure this fight will be quicker than it took both of these cadets to get here," bringing a round of laughter from the rest.
The comment didn't seem to phase Rex, who laughed along with them; Rex always loved attention, and it was unfortunate that being associated with him brought the same attention onto Vace, except when aimed at him, it was so much crueler.
Vace wasn't going to lose this fight; he couldn't, not like he had in the previous matches against Rex.
Rex was always faster, had more endurance, and was larger than him. The strength that the augment brought Rex was unfair, traits to be a perfect soldier.
Rex smiled at him when they entered the mat, the same cocky smile he had used this morning before blocking a punch Vace threw at his shoulder.
They continued on like that for a while, throwing punches and blocking whenever possible, looking for an opening to bring the other down.
He didn't even see Rex move before he felt his back hit hard against the floor, knocking the air out of his lungs.
He choked, sputtering and coughing, trying to regain the ability to breathe; the weight of Rex's knee pressing down on his chest made him panic. Thrashing around, clawing at Rex's legs to get him off.
Rex's knee slid off his chest onto the mat next to him, caging Vace's body under him.
Vace's ears rang with his classmates laughing, counting down the seconds to determine if he was out.
Vace was barely breathing, wheezing when he bucked his body up, causing Rex to lose his balance before wrapping his legs around him.
Twisting and thrashing until Rex was under him.
Rex had his chest pressed into the mat as Vace held his arm behind his back.
Vace wasn't the weak one; Rex was for showing him pity, giving him a chance to breathe. He wouldn't make the same mistake; Rex was pinned with no way out.
Time was called; Rex had lost.
He slackened his hold on Rex's arm, preparing to let go before he felt Rex's body shaking under him with his laughter, "Never thought I would like having you on top, but here we are."
He could hear the chuckle of the classmates closest to them; they were close enough to hear everything.
That comment would spread; everyone would hear it soon.
His classmates, his superiors, and his parents.
Vace didn't know what he was doing until he tightened his grip on Rex's arm, pulling rougher than before.
He had to stop this; he couldn't ruin his own life like this.
Vace didn't realize what he was doing until he heard the crack; it silenced the room around him.
Bounced across the room's walls like a rubber ball thrown too hard. It was loud.
Rex screaming under him was even louder, the sound bouncing around in his skull and the crack of the broken bone under Vace's fingers.
No one moved until Vace stood up; his peers watched him warily as he stepped back into line.
No one moved to help Rex, who still lay on the mat, screaming and whimpering as blood pooled from the open wound left by the bone.
Rex had fallen, and the wolves were on him just like they had always been on Vace.
Eventually, a young cadet tentatively stepped up, glancing at the drill instructor and back to Vace as if waiting for a scolding before reaching down and slowly helping Rex up.
Heliopause was not an easy world, but everyone knew weakness was death, and Vace had made his choice. He would never be weak again.
It was a shame that Rex had to take his place.