Tyr had a peace-time morning routine. He wouldn't dawdle in bed, but instead would get up and start his morning workout. Lazing around was for the weak. And for after mating, if one was feeling sentimental.
After the exercise, he'd shower and eat. The workout gave him time to think about why exactly he was on this ship with these somewhat misguided fools. He thought about how he could rebuild the Kodiak pride. The thoughts helped him to focus on why he was here. It would never do to forget his ultimate goals.
This was his routine and he followed it everyday. Today, of course, was going to be the exception.
Waking up, he rolled out of the bed. It was no wonder he always got up so quickly. The sheets were rough and inhospitable. How was he ever going to get a mate if he didn't pay attention to the tiny details? As he pulled on his morning exercise clothes, he made a mental note to get better bed linens from ship's stores. Maybe something in a nicer colour too. A dark, slippery blue would set off his skin tone perfectly.
He headed for the gym, prepared for cardio followed by working on his upper body strength. Somehow, the corridors seemed brighter. Had Dylan adjusted the ambient brightness? It seemed like a waste of energy resources, but he couldn't bring himself to get worked up about it right now.
Entering the gym, he caught a glimpse of himself in the conveniently placed mirror. Even in these hideous exercise clothes, he looked fantastic. He was prime example of Nietzschean genetic superiority. Squinting, he leaned forward. He was fantastic, but his biceps could use just a little more definition.
With one last backwards glance at himself and his great ass, he got down to work.
Later, and back in his cabin, he stripped down, sneered at the filthy clothes, and disposed of them. Perhaps ship's stores would have something nicer to workout in too. A little more tailored perhaps? Those High Guard uniforms had some nice lines, hopefully ship-issue exercise gear would be similarly cut. While he was looking, he'd pick up some of that shower gel he sometimes smelled coming from the direction of Harper. His own no-scent, all-sensible gel was getting more than a little dull.
He took a little longer in the shower than usual, imagining Harper's pine scent. Maybe he'd better ask the engineer which one he used, just to make sure he didn't waste time searching.
Getting dressed was a little more time-consuming than usual. It wasn't hard to pick the leather pants -- all he had were leather pants -- but the shirt took longer. Chainmail, webbed shirt or vest?
Webbed shirt? What had he been thinking when he got that? Disdainfully, he threw it in the direction of the disposal, where it joined his discarded sheets.
What he needed were some form-fitting, non-leather shirts, as a bit of variety. But for now, he'd wear the chainmail. It just set off his pectorals so well, and the shine caught the eye.
Leather pants, nice boots, great hair, defined biceps, superior genetics and a shiny shirt. Who could resist him? Looking at himself in the small mirror -- he added a larger mirror to the list he was compiling -- he smiled. It was a great smile, thanks to his excellent teeth. He should smile more often.
That's when it struck him. This morning he felt lighter, happier, less tense. He suddenly knew why. 'By the Progenitor!' he thought, 'I am so gay'.
He decided to skip breakfast to have a short talk with Dylan.
Andromeda found him in the corridor. "Tyr, Dylan wanted to know--"
Smiling congenially, he cut her off. "I'm on my way to the Command Deck, where I presume he is."
"Yes, he's there."
"Excellent. Have I ever told you that black sets off your skin and eyes? You look wonderful."
She blinked at him. "Oh. Thank you."
"Thank you for ensuring my survival on a daily basis." He smiled as she nodded, slightly stunned, and then blinked out.
He walked purposefully into command, and smiled brilliantly when Dylan turned towards him. "Captain. I have something to discuss with you."
Dylan looked mildly annoyed, mildly intrigued, and mildly resigned. "Oh?"
"Yes. I wanted to reassure you that I am in no danger of running off to try and find a suitable female Nietzschean. You no longer have to be concerned that I will betray you and the crew in the name of rebuilding the Kodiak pride."
Dylan blinked at him. "Oh?"
"You see, this morning I woke up gay."
He seemed to have reduced Dylan to one-syllable words.
"Yes. So, as I'm certain you can surmise--"
Dylan cut him off with a wary look. "Tyr, I don't know what kind of game you're playing with me, but I have no time it at the moment."
Game? "Captain, I assure you--"
"I don't want your assurances. How stupid do you think I am? How can you just 'wake up gay'? It's ridiculous. I don't believe you, so you can stop whatever you're scheming right now."
Well this was unusual. And he certainly didn't appreciate having his identity negated like that. Dylan could be quite insensitive at times. He didn't care if it was plausible or not, he was gay as of this morning. He shrugged, and turned away. Dylan's loss.
He left the command deck, puzzled, but not really all that concerned. He felt far too good to let the Captain drag him down. What now?
Ah yes. Harper, shower gel and new bed sheets.
Machine shop three was the centre of manic activity. Harper welded, he talked to himself, he sang off-tune, he hammered, he swore and he whooped in triumph. Tyr watched, intrigued and grinning. Eventually, he cleared his throat.
Harper jumped slightly, and looked up, scowling. "Oh, Tyr. Hi. What?"
Tyr felt his grin grow a little wider. "Hello."
Harper just looked slightly confused. "Like I said, hi. What?"
The boy really was quite adorable in his own way. Even if he was slightly scrawny in comparison to him -- who wasn't? -- he had a certain charm. And his tendency towards darker and tighter shirts lately was very nice.
"Um, do I have chocolate on my face or something?"
The voice snapped him back to attention. "Excuse me?"
"You're staring. It's unnerving." Harper was starting to fidget.
Of course. He moved forward a few paces. "No chocolate. I just was admiring your shirt."
Harper backed up a step, and vaguely waved the nanowelder still in his hand around. "Tyr, what the hell?"
He dampened his grin slightly. He didn't want to scare Harper. "I came to tell you something. This morning, I woke up."
Harper's eyes rolled, seemingly of their own volition. "Good for you, guy. I also woke up."
"I wanted to ask you about your shower gel."
Harper reached for a can of cola, almost a defensive measure. "My shower gel? Tyr, what's gotten into you? You're Mr. Smiley, you like my shirt, you're staring, you talk about shower gel and how you woke up..."
Harper choked. "What?" The cola was set down abruptly.
"I woke up gay."
"I was in the shower and I thought about the shower gel you use. It smells pleasant, and I want a change from my own."
Harper ran his hand through his rather delightful hair. "You were thinking about me in the shower?"
Tyr felt his smile turn slightly more predatory. "Yes."
Harper blushed. The faintest red tint washed over his skin. He dropped the nanowelder, and moved forward. "How long have you noticed my shower gel?"
"I've always been aware of it. I just didn't pay it any heed until this morning."
Harper smirked at him. "I have extra in my room. Want some?"
He nodded. Oh yes.
Dylan gazed blearily at the viewscreen. He really needed some rest, and possibly a larger crew. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rommie blink into form.
"Dylan, have you noticed anything odd about Tyr today?
Tyr. Scheming again, damn it. "He fed me some ridiculous story about waking up gay."
Rommie nodded. "He smiled at me, complimented my clothing, and then thanked me for ensuring his survival. It was quite unnerving. And then I witnessed him having an odd conversation with Mr.Harper."
"Yes. Harper has since engaged the privacy lock in his quarters, and I can't locate Tyr on the ship."
"The Maru is still here?"
"And all lifepods?"
"All are accounted for."
Harper? Dylan shook his head.
Hopefully for his sake Tyr wouldn't call Harper 'boy' in bed.