Hi, hi! Yet another submission for the YC 118 Pod and Planet Fiction Contest! Enjoy, and as always comments, critique, and other stuff are welcomed. Enjoy 
The evening red sun paints the feather-wisp clouds a spectrum of purples and pinks. A cool ocean breeze pushes them closer together.
“This always was my favorite time of the day,” says Korbin in aimless admiration. “It’s like cotton candy in the skies.” He looks over beside him and smiles wide.
His partner glances up, and thinks on this statement for a while.
A few moments go by.
“Well…?”
“Well...yeah, I guess. You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Korbear,” finally responds his partner.
Korbin deadpans, and frowns slightly. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“Would you prefer something else? Perhaps Korpup?”, asks his partner innocently enough.
“On second thought, I think I’ll stick with Korbear.” The two exchange some hearty chuckles.
His partner chimes in their own thoughts, “on a serious note, though, I’ve always liked to imagine them as swirls of strawberry milk.” A quick flash of a smile and they continue, “I think we have pretty tasty imaginations!”
Korbin embraces his partner, and speaks under his breath, “we do...but I think mine is tastier.”
With that, they get up and continue strolling down the beach hand-in-hand. Korbin looks over to his partner frequently and thinks to himself how much he relishes every moment spent with them.
---
A couple of weeks go by since last they had the opportunity to spend time together. Korbin, a capsuleer, naturally has very little time to dedicate to those who do not come into contact during the course of daily affairs. An unfortunate side-effect. But it is one he has accepted admirably. It comes naturally to him, luckily enough. After all, in the State, children are raised to put the needs of the community before the needs of the self. And, faced with various obstacles, the young Korbin did well to live and breathe this idea. That doesn’t mean it has come without a price.
You grow numb to the feeling of capsule ectoplasm after a while. The cold, wet, thick, slimy feeling of swimming around in both nutrients and excrement. But Ancestor’s choke how amazing it feels to get out of the damn thing every now and then. The heightened senses acquired from being a capsule pilot and “feeling” the sensations of your chosen vessel - the solar wind brushing against your shields, the sharp pains of activating your shield booster, the warmth of your active warp core - tend to linger after disconnecting from the capsule. But Korbin has grown numb to these lingering sensations lately. He craves a different feel, a special touch.
The warm, distilled water streams down his bare skin. It washes away any remnants of ectoplasm. Gently rolling off every muscle, and tracing every crevice. A pleasureable and cherished feeling by many pod pilots, certainly, but not Korbin. These sensations do not satisfy him either. He exhales a sigh full of tension and anxiety.
Ultra-comfortable linens and fibers which compose the exorbitantly overpriced clothing offered to capsuleers does little to ease his craving for something more. It seems like nothing can satisfy this desire for a greater sensation. Nothing can replace the irreplaceable warmth of his lover’s hands, or the easing comfort of his lover’s embrace. His partner was light years away, though. And still he has many tasks to complete before he could make time to visit again. This was so frustrating. Anxiety seemingly piles up with every minute.
Korbin had an hour for a quick lunch break. Contrary to his normal routine, he decides to go about it alone this time. Touring around the station a bit, a Caldari takeout restaurant looks promising. Abiding his normal routine, he decides to sit outside so he can people watch. On any particular day, he uses this as a useful relaxation technique. On this particular day, it was probably a mistake to sit outside.
Across the way, Korbin spots a Brutor mother and her son browsing the shops. On any particular day, he simply would have observed and moved on to the next person or group of people. On this particular day, this mother and son held his attention. Maybe it was the built up anxiety within him, but memories from his childhood start to trickle into his mind. A warm, calming sensation begins to loosen up his core and spread slowly to the peripheries. This satisfying feeling halts abruptly at the arrival of a breaking news segment on a nearby holoscreen playing loudly - the repeated word “Guristas” pierces through the warm feeling mercilessly, and shatters it. A cold, rigid stiffness consumes his body. He doesn’t finish eating his meal, and quickly walks back to his quarters.
The cold, grey steel of the traditional Caldari quarters mimics his core. Devoid of color, warmth, and comfort. He sees a rough reflection of himself through a shimmering chrome-like panel. An emptiness overcomes him as he rolls onto bed for sleep.
---
Scents of mint tea and breakfast pastries beckon Korbin’s resting mind to attention. A bit startled, he bolts out of bed and investigates. Around the corner, to his utter surprise, sits his partner reading through a NeoCom.
Without glancing up, his lover speaks, “I seem to drop in at the worst times, eh?” They nod over to the coffee table which has several empty bottles of liquor.
Korbin squints and rubs his temples. “I...uhh...I don’t know. How did you even get here?”
A smile beams across the face of his partner, “Oh, you know. I have my ways. You don’t have to be a capsuleer to know your way around a tough situation, after all.”
“Seems to me, though, like I dropped in at a good time.” The words come out softly, and gently enter Korbin. An immediate sense of slight relief.
That cold, rigid stiffness that has hardened overnight begins to change. A warmth ever so faint begins to grow in his core. His partner stands up.
It grows stronger. His partner walks slowly to him.
It grows faster. At last, he is encapsulated by their embrace.
At last, a sensation -
a touch - that satisfies. The stiffness drifts pleasantly away like the seeds of a dandelion in a warm Spring breeze.
“I’ve missed you, Mateo,” Korbin whispers.
“Missed ya too, Korbear,” he whispers to Korbin in kind. He holds Korbin tighter, “truth is, I decided to make a surprise visit because I missed your touch, plain and simple.”
Korbin closes his eyes. In one sigh, he releases the weeks of anxiety and sadness. In one touch, the world stops spinning for a few moments. In one embrace, all seems well in the world.
Author
Topic: Touch (Read 1634 times)