runaway tales ; chocolate #2: rivalry/jealousy; verse: bounty

Title: Jealous
Verse: Bounty
Character(s): Martyn Alasev-Dol/Yaris Berkn’leter
Rating: T
Warnings: Toxic behavior.
Prompts: Chocolate #2 – rivalry/jealousy
Toppings: None.
Extras: None.
Canon: Think so.
Spoilers: No.

At first, Martyn thinks he’s imagining it. 

They fall into a groove where Yaris pilots Speeta far, far better than Martyn could ever hope to even dream of, and Martyn takes care of the rest, and they split the take four ways — Constance argues for a smaller portion for Yaris, but Martyn tells her firmly that they can’t expect his loyalty by cutting him off at the knees, so they end up with even thirds, as long as Yaris pulls his weight, which he always does — and then sometimes Constance goes off on her own with Neval. She says it’s because she can’t stand to be around Yaris and Martyn’s bad decisions for too long, but the truth is she’s always needed space and now more than ever, and this leaves Martyn and Yaris to find some low level bounty to pick up, or some outpost to rob and the first few they try goes… badly… because Yaris jumps from one to murder and Martyn has to drag him back by the collar of his stupid black turtleneck and say, “We don’t just kill everyone!” which confuses the other man so much Martyn actually feels bad.

It gets smoother after that. They find a rhythm.

That is until Martyn strikes up a conversation with a very pretty alien with antennae and he gets distracted and the next thing he knows, Yaris is swanning over to the bar, leaning next to him and loudly saying, “I don’t really understand how we can crack that safe if you’re over here flirting.”

The alien with the antennae practically vanishes into the walls and Martyn turns his head to look at Yaris and squint. “Well, I’m not flirting any more,” he says in annoyance.

“I see that,” Yaris says. “Come on then.”

That’s the first time — and the safe was cracked and they ended up escaping the scene with guns blazing because unfortunately people tend to tell other people when someone admits to planning to crack a safe right next to them — and then it’s a few weeks later and Martyn is chatting up a gorgeous blue man with equally gorgeous blue eyes and Yaris pulls the same potatoes again.

And a week after that.

And a month after that.

And finally, Martyn grabs him in the ship corridor and snaps, “What is your problem?!”

“Hm?” is Yaris’ response. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“You keep doing this,” Martyn bites out. “You keep doing this! You come over and you ruin my attempts at flirting and you out our entire plan eve— You’re jealous.”

“Hardly.” Yaris’ face is so utterly unreadable, Martyn doesn’t know what the man is thinking at any given moment. “I just wonder why you’re so intent on some scaly woman when you have me right here.” The first emotion Martyn can read passes over his face and it’s… insecurity? “I thought I was coming aboard to…”

Martyn softens. He pulls his hand back from Yaris’ elbow and shakes his head. “I wasn’t bringing you on board as a prostitute or something.”

Yaris snorts. “I wasn’t implying—!”

“Yes, you were,” Martyn says, cutting him off. “I brought you on board as my partner. I don’t want anything from you except loyalty.”

Yaris fidgets with the wrist of his sweater. “I see.”

Martyn studies him a moment, then grins ever so slowly. “But you want that,” he says. “You want to continue our thing from the weapons locker.”

“I thought,” Yaris says, “you were inviting me on board for that reason. I was… disappointed when you gave me my own quarters.”

Martyn’s eyes widen. “You wanted to sleep in with me?”

“Again!” Yaris says quickly. “I thought—”

“No, answer the question,” Martyn says firmly. “You wanted to sleep with me?”

Yaris licks his lips, eyes darting back and forth as he searches for an escape he doesn’t need. “Yes.”

Martyn smiles, slow and genuine. “I’d really like that,” he says and offers a hand out towards Yaris. “I just didn’t want you to think the only reason I invited you on board was—”

“Wanting to be with me?” Yaris says, eyeing Martyn’s hand.

“When you put it like that, you make me sound like a real bottle of poison,” Martyn muses.

Yaris shakes his head. “No, I… get how you meant it.” He’s still looking at Martyn’s hand like it’ll somehow bite him if he takes it. “It’s okay if you don’t want—”

“I do,” Martyn says quickly. “I do.”

Yaris smiles and takes his hand.

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