Untouchable (LGBT - SciFi - Romance)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 (Three years earlier) 

The silver spaceship docked gently at the small space station of Mao, in orbit around the green forested planet of Tian. 

The P112 Qatar would stay there for a week, allowing the men time to complete a training exercise in the rainforest, as well as having a few days leave in the city of Huan. Tian was one of the two planets orbiting Zhu, the furthest inhabited star system in the Aurigan constellation, furthest from the main star system of Capella that is. 

Lieutenant Alan Stewart was looking forward to his two days of leave. He was hoping to catch up with his friend Captain Robin Lang of the Huan police force. Even though one of them was straight and the other an om, both men had remained good friends since their first year in the Academy. Stewart had stayed on his chosen path to becoming a Patrol ship officer while Lang had moved sideways into planetary law enforcement when he met his wife-to-be Pauline during a mission on Tian. The divorce rate amongst starship officers was exceedingly high and Lang had not hesitated to make the change. Lang settled happily into his new job and, as far as Stewart knew, had never regretted the move. Even when Pauline died a few years later in a climbing accident, he had not been tempted to return to space, largely because Max their son, was still only ten years old and needed a stable environment.  

Alan Stewart made his way down the wide street to his friend's house, glad to stretch his legs after the confines of the ship. He was a tall man, nearly two metres, with broad shoulders and long legs, his body toned by constant training, but as far as he was concerned, nothing beat a brisk walk in fresh air to loosen the muscles and clear the mind. He wore civilian clothes for his leave, an olive green singlesuit, and carried a small pack over one shoulder. 

Captain Lang had been happy to hear from him and had invited him home that evening for dinner. Lang lived on the outskirts of Huan, with rainforest in the back yard and a two story house made of cedak. Even after sixteen years Stewart continued to be amazed that there was enough of this luxurious material to actually build a whole house of it. On Burra, where he was born, wood was for luxury items of furniture or sculpture, the exclusive property of the wealthy. A tall young man in khaki cargo pants and white sleeveless shirt opened the door to him, "Uncle Alan! Father said you were coming." He moved towards him as if to give him a hug then suddenly remembered he was sixteen now and put his hand out for the Lieutenant to shake. Stewart laughed and pulled him into a bear hug. 

"How are you Max? Breaking hearts yet?" He released him and followed the grinning boy into the house. The boy had shot up into a young man over night it seemed, though it was probably all of two years since he had seen him. Max had been away at school camp on his last visit. Captain Lang came out of the kitchen, drying his hands. "Alan! Great to see you. Come in and Max will get you something to drink." 

Lang was tall and blond like his son, but more heavily built with a deep chest and the well muscled thighs of a man who took his physical fitness very seriously. Stewart remembered having a mild crush on him when they were in the Academy but this had mellowed into friendship after Robin had politely, but firmly, told him he was straight. They were still friends eighteen years later, which was something of a record for both of them. Stewart had become Max's honorary uncle, sending him birthday presents, watching him grow up and taking a proud interest in his achievements.  

The three of them ate noodle soup and talked into the night, Max listening spellbound to Alan's account of his latest mission. "That's what I want to do, when I'm old enough. Go to the Academy and get a job in the space patrol," he said eagerly. Both men smiled at him encouragingly, this was scarcely the first time he had said those words, but now he was sixteen, it was becoming more of a real possibility. Max looked at Stewart hopefully. "Would you have a training session with me later? I've been working hard on my hand to hand combat, I bet I've improved since last time." 

"I should hope so! You've grown at least thirty centimetres since then. But not now," he smiled and turned to Lang. "Maybe tomorrow, if I can stay tonight?" 

Lang nodded. "Of course, the spare room is already made up." 

The next morning Max was keen to show Alan his fighting skills. They both dressed in loose fitting white singlesuits and went along to the room that Lang set aside specifically for training. They worked out for a good half hour before Alan decided it was time for breakfast and threw Max onto his back, pulling his arm underneath him in a hold so that he couldn't move without breaking it. He smiled down at him, "You're right, you have improved." 

Max looked up at him, feeling his idol's body pressing against his and in that split second, everything changed forever. He stopped breathing for a minute as awareness rushed through his entire body, he felt every hard muscle of the man on top of him, saw the curve of his lips only centimetres from his own, felt a lock of hair brushing his face, felt himself go rock hard. He stared up at Alan, half horribly embarrassed, half aching for some response. He'd always known Alan was an om, he just hadn't fully realised he was one himself until that moment. 

Alan froze in total surprise. He was just preparing to laugh it off for both their sakes when Lang spoke sharply from the doorway. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice hard. 

"Nothing," Alan answered without thinking. "Max was just about to concede." He stood up, hauling the boy up with one hand and passing him a towel with the other. "You can have first shower," he told him, pushing him gently in the opposite direction from his father, giving him a chance to get back under control. Max didn't need to be asked twice, he disappeared into the bathroom. 

Stewart turned to the Captain, ready to make some light comment about boys growing up, but Lang spoke first. 

"What the fuck were you doing?" His face was pale with anger. 

Alan stared at him in disbelief, his own face whitening with shock. He licked his lips, trying to speak, his throat suddenly tight. "We were only wrestling. You should know I would never, NEVER, take advantage of Max, whatever it may have looked like to you."  

"I want you to go," Lang spoke tightly, "Max is not an om and I won't have you trying to make him one!" 

The other man felt sick. How could Rob even think for one second he would do anything like that, even if it were possible? He made himself take a deep breath, there was absolutely no point in trying to reason with his friend in the state he was in now. He could almost see the waves of fear and anger coming off him. "Alright, I'll leave right away." He got the words out and went to the door, unable to resist a parting shot, "But Rob, nothing you or I say or do will change how Max is, you know that, right?"  

Oblivious to the disaster unfolding in the training room, Max daydreamed under the shower, reliving the feel of Alan's body on his. If only his father hadn't come in! Maybe Alan would have kissed him, he'd certainly wanted him to. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure what two men did with each other, surely the stories he'd heard at school couldn't be true, but he could easily imagine Alan's hand on him now, where his own was, and in return his hand taking Alan ...  

He couldn't believe it when his father told him Alan had left, that he'd asked him to leave. 

"But he didn't do anything!" he protested indignantly. "How could you insult him like that?" 

"I don't want him around you until you're grown up," Lang stated in a flat voice. 

Max stared back, recklessly defiant. "Well here's the news Dad, I'm already an om, get used to it!" 

Completely overwrought, Lang hit him sharply across the face. Both breathing hard, father and son stood staring at each other in growing horror, the handprint a vivid red on Max's face.