After dinner, the crew scattered to their rooms to change into their designated loungewear. I lingered in the corridor for a minute, watching the others retreat, their doors sliding shut with those soft hisses. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck, that restless energy still bubbling just under the surface. It was hard to believe we were really doing this.

Pajamas, uniform bodysuits, and now loungewear? The thought played on repeat as I stepped inside my cabin and sealed the door behind me. Who changes clothes this much in one goddamn day? It was like we were in some kind of intergalactic fashion show.

Kicking off my boots, I started peeling off the snug bodysuit, the fabric clinging stubbornly as I tugged it over my shoulders. My muscles, still aching from hauling all those damn boxes, felt immediate relief as the pressure eased. My chest felt all tight and confined.

“Finally,” I muttered, tossing the suit into the laundry chute. That thing was practically molded to my skin after hours of moving supplies. It had been too tight. I stretched, relishing the freedom and the way my skin tingled. The girls had insisted on packing plenty of spares, which was good because these things were going to need daily washing. Between the sweat and the overall…confinement, I doubted anyone could bear to wear the same one twice.

I reached for the folded loungewear on the shelf. Pulling on the loose pants and matching shirt, I immediately noticed the difference. The fabric was soft, like air, and so light against my skin. It was a complete reversal from the bodysuits. I glanced down and frowned. My boxer briefs were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of the pants.

“Ugh,” I groaned, adjusting the waistband as if it would help. Well, at least everyone else was in the same boat. The thought brought some comfort, but not enough to quell the awkwardness. This is what leadership looks like, right? Leading by example, showing my underwear to the whole ship? I had to laugh, the absurdity of it all.

I smoothed out the shirt and glanced at myself in the small mirror by my desk. Yeah. Good example. Sure. I rubbed the back of my neck again, then took one last look at my reflection before heading out. The fabric was barely concealing anything, I looked like I was ready for a photoshoot.

The corridor was quiet, the faint hum of the ship the only sound as I made my way to the lounge. My steps slowed as I approached the doors. What if no one else showed up dressed like this? What if Ryan decided to buck the rules just to be difficult? He’s definitely the type. Maybe I should just go back and… yeah, no.

Stop overthinking it, Luca, I told myself. It’s just clothes. Yeah, see-through, practically naked, clothes. Totally normal. I shook my head and pushed through the doors to the lounge, ready for whatever the fuck was waiting on the other side. I could feel the blood rushing.

***

I flicked on the lounge lights, the soft glow bouncing off the sleek furniture and the polished pool table. The electric fireplace hummed to life, those simulated flames casting a warm, flickering glow against the walls. It was actually pretty nice, like a real place we could hang out, instead of just a metal box hurtling through space. I dropped onto the plush leather couch in front of the video game console, letting out a long breath.

“First one here,” I muttered to myself, a smug grin creeping across my face. I couldn't help it, I was kind of excited about this. Everyone else must be mulling it over, maybe even freaking out a little. I pictured Ryan pacing in his cabin, grumbling about the loungewear rules, and Danny triple-checking his outfit for accidental transparency. I snickered at the thought, then grabbed the controller and powered on the console.

The main menu lit up the screen, a colorful collection of game titles that immediately soured my mood. Damnit, most of them required an active internet connection, something that was impossible out here. But then, Ryan came through again, jailbreaking the system before we left. Two-player mode was still functional, a small victory, but a vital one. Fucking Ryan, always the sneaky bastard.

The door slid open with a soft hiss. Ryan strolled in first, his usual swagger undercut by the faint blush on his face. He plopped down next to me, his sheer loungewear leaving little to the imagination, and he seemed acutely aware of it. Damn, those muscles were on full display, I thought, admiring the contours of his body. I wondered how he felt under that thin fabric, if he felt as good as he looked.

“Alright, Captain, happy?” Ryan said, spreading his arms as if to display his outfit. “This better be worth the hype.” His voice was a little higher than usual, and I knew he was just as self-conscious as I was.

Danny followed close behind, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. “You know,” he muttered, “I’m not sure about this whole…translucent thing.” Okay, so Danny wasn't exactly thrilled about this. His cheeks were flushed, and he was carefully keeping his arms close to his sides, like he was trying to hide something. He looked like a kid in a new pair of shoes.

“No rebels in this crew, huh?” I teased, tossing the controller onto the coffee table. I was honestly surprised they actually followed the rules. For a bunch of rule breakers, they were all surprisingly compliant.

Ryan snorted. “You’re lucky Zoe and Emily are making these rules, or I’d be in gym shorts and calling it loungewear.” He was trying to play it cool, but I could see the way his gaze kept darting down to his own body, checking, double checking.

“Sure you would,” I said, leaning back into the couch. I was still trying to process the view. Ryan was, as always, a total package of athletic prowess, but then I took a proper look at Danny, and holy shit. He was toned as well, his body not as bulky as Ryan’s, but lean and defined. He hid it so well under his usual clothes. He was hot, like, really hot, in a quiet, unassuming way. I suddenly understood why Zoe seemed to be so into him.

We’d been fighting monsters side by side for years, seen each other in the buff plenty of times out of necessity, but this was different, this was our space, in our ship, where we could let our guard down. And now they were here, almost naked, and all I could think was “this was going to be a long trip”. This was going to be a goddamn nightmare.

***

The door slid open again, and Zoe and Emily walked in, chatting animatedly, their loungewear doing little to hide the outlines of their bras and panties. The sheer fabric clung to all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination, while also leaving plenty not to. They were acting completely at ease, oblivious to the fact that they’d just derailed every coherent thought in my head. The way they moved, it was like a dance, all fluidity and grace.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

My mouth went dry. My gaze darted from Emily’s easy smile to Zoe’s confident stride, catching every subtle detail in between, the way the soft fabric shifted against their skin, the light catching the curve of a hip, the delicate strap of a bra. It was all too much. My brain was screaming at me to stop staring, but my body refused to cooperate, like some kind of horny traitor. My mouth might as well have hit the goddamn floor. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my ears.

Holy shit. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. How was this even legal? Were they trying to kill us all with sex appeal? Their bodies were like sculptures, all curves and lines and soft, inviting skin.

The other guys weren’t faring much better. Ryan seemed intensely focused on a random spot on the wall, as if he was trying to memorize the pattern, probably trying to ignore the way he was hard as a rock. Danny had practically buried himself in his seat, like he was trying to become one with the couch cushions. He looked like he wanted to disappear.

Emily was the first to break the silence, her smirk as sharp as the edge of a blade. “You boys look cute,” she said, draping herself onto the arm of the couch right next to me. Her hip brushed against my shoulder, and I froze, caught between self-consciousness and the overwhelming realization that Emily Carter was right there, touching me. I could smell her perfume, a light, floral scent that made me ache.

Zoe rolled her eyes, her own smirk playful. “It’s called equality. If we’re dealing with this, so are you.” She moved with a casual confidence that made my skin tingle.

I managed to snap my jaw shut, but my thoughts were still racing. Equality, my ass. I’m pretty sure this was just torture, they were doing this on purpose. They had to know how hot they looked, how they were making me feel, it was some kind of cruel game. I wanted to hate them for it, but I couldn't.

Chris entered fully now, his imposing frame filling the doorway. The loungewear fabric clung to his broad shoulders and bulging muscles, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of insecurity as Chris casually tossed a pool cue stick to Ryan. Seriously, was he trying to make me feel inadequate? The way the fabric stretched across his chest… it was a lot. And yet I still wanted to touch him. I was a goddamn mess.

“Alright, who’s up first?” Chris asked, his grin all confidence. The way his eyes sparkled, the way his muscles rippled under the sheer fabric, it was almost too much to handle.

“Me and Danny,” Ryan said, grabbing another cue. “Loser buys dinner next time we hit port.” He was practically vibrating with energy, a smug little shit. I could practically see the competitive fire burning in his eyes.

“Bold of you to assume there’s anywhere to buy dinner,” Danny shot back, taking his position at the pool table. He was trying to play it cool, but I could see the faint flush on his cheeks, the slight tremor in his hands. The poor guy, he was probably as overwhelmed as I was. I bet he would break if I touched him.

Joey arrived last, muttering to himself as he browsed the movie catalog on the main screen. “What is this crap? Half these movies look like they were pirated by someone’s grandpa.” He was clearly not impressed, but then, Joey’s never impressed by anything. He was likely just annoyed that he wasn’t the center of attention.

“Welcome to our life now,” Ryan said over his shoulder, lining up his first shot. “Better find something good, or Zoe’s picking.” He was so focused on the pool table, like it was some kind of life or death competition. I bet he was probably picturing himself as some kind of cool movie star, showing off his skills. The way he leaned over the table, the way the fabric clung to his back… it was a lot to process.

Zoe smirked, settling into a chair with a drink. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She was right, I had no doubt that she'd pick the most terrible movie imaginable, just for the hell of it. I knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

I shut the console off, leaning back into the couch and letting the atmosphere of the room wash over me. The hum of the fireplace mixed with the faint clack of the pool balls and Joey’s quiet grumbling as he scrolled through the movie titles. The warm light from the lamp cast the room in a golden glow, making the sleek lounge feel cozy and inviting. It was almost like we’d created a real place to relax, despite it being a metal box in the middle of the void. And I was stuck here, surrounded by incredibly hot people, my mind going a million miles an hour. This was going to be a long, torturous trip. I was so fucked.

I glanced around at everyone, trying to ignore the knot that was forming in my stomach. And then, my eyes landed on Emily. She was laughing with Chris about something, their faces illuminated by the electric fireplace, and a pang of jealousy hit me hard. He’s got this easy charm, and Emily was practically glowing in his presence, and it made something inside of me boil. She had that soft, inviting look on her face, like she wanted him, and I hated it.

I’d had a crush on Emily since I was, what, 12 or 13? And somehow, it was hitting me all over again, like a freight train straight to the chest. And there was Chris—fucking Chris—all muscle, charm, and that easy, infuriating smile, standing there like a goddamn Greek statue flirting with my girl. Not that she’s my girl, I reminded myself, but still. It felt like a fist squeezing my heart, sharp and sudden, making me want to lash out or punch something. Or maybe just sulk in a corner like some lovesick teenager.

I kept hoping—praying—that Chris wasn’t actually flirting, that he was just being his usual friendly, annoyingly perfect self. Because if he was flirting? I was screwed. There’s no competing with Chris. The man was a literal masterpiece, and me? I was just... me. The thought made my chest tighten, a pout threatening to creep onto my face, but I buried it. No way was I letting anyone see that. It made me feel like a kid competing with an adult, and I hated it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Danny sneaking glances at Zoe. It wasn’t subtle—every time she laughed or tilted her head, his eyes flicked toward her like he couldn’t help himself. Danny and Zoe, I thought, smirking slightly. Always a thing, even if they don’t say it out loud. She’d been flirting with him all day, and he’d clearly been soaking it up. The guy was cute—freckles, dimples, the whole package—but he always seemed so unsure of himself. If anyone could pull him out of his shell, it was Zoe.

Ryan, meanwhile, was completely focused on Chris, his gaze darting toward him whenever he thought no one was paying attention. So, I’m not the only one feeling threatened. Great. At least I wasn’t alone in the "Chris is stealing our spotlight" department.

And Zoe? She was doing what she does best—watching everyone with that sly little grin that said she knew exactly what was going on. Mischief radiated off her like a beacon. She’d caught Danny’s glances, of course she had, but she was taking her time, letting him squirm just enough to make it interesting.

Emily, on the other hand, was either oblivious to the tension or enjoying every second of it. She had this knack for walking into a room and becoming the center of everyone’s attention without even trying. And Chris? He was leaning into it, which only made my chest tighten more. Relax, Rossi. It’s just Chris being Chris.

For a moment, it all felt strange but... okay. Like we were just existing, all of us in the same space, caught in the absurdity of our situation but somehow making it work. It wasn’t exactly peace, but it was something close. A truce, maybe.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I closed my eyes, trying to shake off the tension coiled in my muscles. It was a good ache, though, from all the moving and laughing. It made me feel real, alive, like I could handle this. Yeah, I can do this. We can all do this—even if Chris is secretly trying to steal my girl.

When I opened my eyes again, something caught the light—Chris, standing just right so his bulge was unavoidably there, clear as day. And Emily? Her gaze wasn’t on him. It was on me. She winked.

She knew.

Heat rushed to my face so fast I thought my head might explode. Damn it. I forced myself to focus anywhere else, but the damage was done. This trip was going to be so much more complicated than I thought. And if Chris wasn’t careful, this wasn’t just going to be a mission to Alpha Centauri—it was going to be hell.