Chapter Text
Miller moved swiftly down one of the too-bright hallways of the Ark, dressed in a simple black guard’s suit. The synthetic material hugged his shoulders and waist a little too tightly, and the electric baton bounced uncomfortably against his leg with every step he took. But he got what he got—there wasn’t exactly a surplus of uniforms.
His boots made little booms every time they hit the cold metal floor, but the noise was easily swallowed by the ambient machine hum of the station. He came to a stop in front of a residential dorm, number 342. The guard fished a black keycard out of his pocket and waited for the command to use it.
The night before, a random guard patrolling Farm Station had noticed a loose grate. Upon inspecting it, he had found that it was large enough for a person to crawl through, and a little ways behind the grate, there was an unsanctioned drug farm hidden in the walls. Although it was small, it broke more than eight of the Ark’s laws. A person would be floated for breaking one.
The guard reported the illegal farm, but the Council decided not to immediately destroy it. Instead, they decided that a station-wide search of every residential quarter was in order. It would happen to every room at the same time, and there would be no warning given to the residents of Farm Station. They hoped that the surprise would help them root out any illegal networks in the system.
Although that all sounded great on paper, it wasn’t so easy for the actual guards. The enormity of the task meant that every guard went alone to their assigned room, without backup. It also meant that it was really fucking early and most people weren’t even up, but the Council timed the operation like that because they didn’t want anyone to notice there were guards lining up in front of everyone’s door.
A static-filled voice came through Miller’s earpiece from Mission HQ. “All units in position on level 1?” it inquired, and was met with a chorus of affirmatives from the guards on that level. The voice asked for level 2, then 3, 4, and 5, always met with ‘Affirmative’. Every residential door in Farm Station had a guard in front of it, ready to burst in on whoever was inside.
The black keycard Miller had, his guard’s card, could be programmed to open any door on the Ark that Mission HQ wanted. Right now, it gave Miller permission to open any residential door in Farm Station. Neither he nor any of the other guards even needed to knock.
“All units are in position,” the voice from Mission HQ announced. “Begin operation in 3…2…1… commence operation”. Miller tapped the solid black card to the keypad. It beeped, and the heavy metal door swung open with a hiss. Miller quickly dropped the card into his pocket and jumped through, hand on his baton. As soon as he was in the room, he froze, the words of announcement on his lips frozen by shock.
It was a nice enough dorm. It was a single room, moderately sized, obvious for one, maybe two people. In the far left corner was a nicely made bed, a nightstand next to it. Near the foot of the bed was a door leading to what was presumably a bathroom. On the opposite wall there was a TV, a couch a few feet in front of it, and a sizeable dresser a bit farther down the wall with a pair of shoes lined up neatly against the wall next to it. To his right there was a small table with a couple of chairs around it, a few papers and pens scattered on it. Besides a couple shelves nailed onto the walls supporting books and some knickknacks, there wasn’t much else in the room. But none of that was what had Miller frozen.
In the middle of the room, halfway between the bathroom door and the dresser was the most beautiful boy Miller had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of pretty boys. He had wet, brown hair that was plastered to his forehead over big brown eyes that stared at Miller in shock. A light scattering of freckles covered his very cute nose, and pink lips opened a bit, showing off a sliver of pure white teeth. His ears stuck out a little bit from his head, but in a cute way.
Also, he was naked except for a pair of tight red boxer briefs that didn’t leave too much to the imagination. Which was nice, in Miller’s opinion. He had broad shoulders that glistened with water, and Miller admired the long lines that ran down his lean chest and stomach. He was frozen in mid-step, one foot in front of the other. He also had a really nice ass, which Miller took a second to appreciate.
A pink flush made its way across the boy’s cheeks, and Miller decided that particular shade of pink was now his favorite color. The boy blinked, then his eyes widened almost comically. He lunged across the room to his bed, grabbing the nicely made covers in one hand and the pillow in his other.
“Get the hell out!” the boy shrieked at Miller, flinging the pillow at him with a surprising amount of accuracy. It hit Miller straight in the face, breaking him out of his stupor. When he refocused on the boy, he had the covers held up in front of him, and a hardcover book in his hand in position to be launched at Miller’s face. The guard scurried behind the still half-opened door, and a fraction of a second later, the book collided with the door loudly and eerily close to Miller’s head.
There was the quick patter of bare feet against metal, then the door was slammed shut, throwing Miller to his hands and knees in the hallway. Miller stood up and spun around, glaring at the door. Even if the boy was ridiculously cute, Miller still had to check the room.
He pulled the black card out of his pocket and tapped it against the keypad once more. The door swung open, and this time, he pushed it open, walking into the room with more determination than before—no more use in shock value. The boy was the dresser, one drawer open and a pair of pants in his hand. The covers he had used were discarded on the bed on the opposite side of the room.
His head swiveled over his shoulder, his eyes fixating on Miller. His blush went from pink to very, very red, and he let out an adorable little shocked noise. He dropped the pants back in the drawer and bent down, giving Miller a very nice view of his ass for just a second. He came up fast, spinning around and launching one of his shoes at Miller. Just like the book and the pillow, it sailed with uncanny accuracy right into his face.
He dropped to one knee with a cry of pain, his hands over his nose. It wasn’t bleeding or broken, thank goodness. The boy darted across the room, grabbing his covers and wrapping them around himself before stalking angrily over the Miller, the unthrown shoe raised menacingly in one hand.
“What he fuck do you not understand about ‘Get the fuck out’?” he seethed, scowling at Miller. The guard glanced up between his fingers, and it occurred to him that it really was a shame the boy was wearing the covers. It also occurred to Miller that the boy was still beautiful and adorable even when he was angry.
“This-this is a station-wide search…” Miller stuttered, finding it uncharacteristically difficult to speak while looking into the boy’s raging brown eyes. “We’re looking for involvement in the unsanctioned and illegal growth of drugs…” he trailed off.
The hand holding the shoe dropped, and the boy looked away from Miller for a second, angrily muttering something about “those idiots” and “being careful” under his breath. Miller found he could breathe again for a second until those beautiful and stormy hazel eyes swiveled back to him and sucked the air out of his lungs.
The fury returned to the boy’s face, but it was ruined a little by the fact that a burning red still covered his cheeks. “I’m not involved in any illegal growth,” he hissed, sounding simultaneously offended, exasperated, and pissed. The shoe was raised threateningly again. “Now can you get the fuck out of my room?” he asked, glaring down in a way that implied that Miller really should get out if he valued his physical safety. Which he did.
Miller nodded quickly and scurried out the door, still on his hands and knees. The metal door slammed behind him with an unnecessary amount of force, almost hitting him. He leaned against it and let out a long breath, still holding his throbbing nose. Miller brought his hand up to his ear, pressing the little button on the earpiece.
“Room 342 is all clear” He reported to Mission HQ. He hadn’t actually searched the room, but he wasn’t going to go back in there. Strangely enough, he trusted the boy, but Miller had a feeling that he knew something more than he was letting on. He wouldn’t push it, though.
“Roger, room 342 is clear,” the voice repeated, a little too loud in his ear. “Return to Mission HQ immediately for debriefing,” it commanded him.
“Roger that, returning to Mission HQ,” Miller confirmed. He pushed himself up and began the long walk back to the Go-Sci Station. The Ark’s hash lights shone down on him, and the living hum of the station swallowed the sound of his steps.
But all the while, Miller was smiling, because the only thing in his head was the adorable boy and his adorable blush, and how he was cute even when he was angry, even if he was more dangerous than an angry mob. On his way back, Miller decided that he would figure out that boy’s name, whatever it took.