Chapter 3: The Galley Table Surprise
The mess hall carried the low, constant hum of the ship's life support systems, a sound so pervasive that after a week aboard the Horizon, Jim had stopped noticing it entirely. The recycled air tasted faintly of metal and something vegetal that the filtration system could never quite scrub clean. But the amber lighting softened the sterile edges of the room, and the long table with its assigned seats had become something like a hearth in the cold architecture of deep space.
Jim sat at his designated spot, pushing a cube of reconstituted protein around his tray with a fork. The stuff had the texture of compressed sawdust and the flavor profile of cardboard soaked in brine. He'd learned to eat it quickly, without thinking, like swallowing a pill.
"You're making that face again," Corey said from across the table."What face?"
"The one that says you'd rather be eating anything else in the known universe." She grinned, tearing off a piece of her own protein cube and popping it into her mouth with exaggerated relish. "Mmm. Delicious. Tastes like...victory?"
Jessie snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. She sat to Jim's right, her tray barely touched.
"Victory over what?" Jim asked. "My will to live?"
"Exactly. Every bite is a small triumph of human endurance over culinary despair." Corey winked at him, then turned to Jessie. "You've barely eaten. You're going to need your strength."
Jessie raised an eyebrow."For what? The big event later tonight? Let me guess—you've got another 'totally organic' plan to end up naked together."
"Who, me?" Corey pressed a hand to her chest, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Jim laughed, the first real laugh he'd managed since the morning's maintenance rotation. The week since that first night on the observation deck had been a blur of settling into routines, learning each other's rhythms, and discovering just how much time three people could spend naked without getting bored. But they'd also been good about the other stuff—eating together, talking, building something that felt less like a configuration and more like a family.
Jessie twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger, watching Corey with that quiet, assessing look she got when she was thinking more than she was saying. "You know what I like about you, Corey?"
"What?"
"You never do anything halfway. When you commit to something, you go all in." Jessie's lips curved into a slow smile. "It's kind of hot, honestly."
Corey's eyes lit up. "Oh, is it now?"
Jim set down his fork, suddenly aware of the temperature in the room ticking up a few degrees. He watched Corey's gaze slide from Jessie to him, and then down, and then—very deliberately—under the table.
"Corey," he said, a warning in his voice that came out more like an invitation."What?" She was already sliding off her chair, her body disappearing below the table's edge. "I'm just getting comfortable."
Jessie looked at Jim, her eyes widening. "Is she—"
She was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Jim felt the cold air of the mess hall hit his bare skin before Corey's warm hand wrapped around him. Her fingers were deft, practiced, already stroking him to full hardness with a surgeon's precision. He drew in a sharp breath, his hands gripping the edges of his seat.
"Jesus, Corey," he managed.
"Shh." Her voice floated up from below, muffled, teasing. "You'll draw attention."
Jessie leaned forward, craning her neck to peer under the table. Her eyes went dark and hungry as she watched Corey's head bob in his lap. "She's really doing it," Jessie murmured, half to herself. "Right in the middle of dinner."
Corey's hand found his base, her lips wrapping around the head in a tight seal. She took him deep, her throat working as she swallowed him to the root, and Jim's head fell back. The mess hall's amber lights swam above him. He had a passing, distant thought that someone could walk in at any moment—other colonists, crew members. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the wet, perfect pressure of her mouth working him.
"Fuck," he hissed.
Jessie pulled her chair closer, her hand sliding along his thigh. Her fingers found the junction where Corey's mouth met his cock, stroking the slick, stretched skin there. She watched Corey work, her lips parted, her breathing gone shallow.
"Move over," Jessie said, her voice low.
Corey made a sound around him—a question, maybe, but she shifted to the side, making room. Jessie dropped to her knees on the cold metal floor, her hands pressing Corey's hair aside as she leaned in. Her tongue darted out, tasting the base of his shaft, then lower, finding the taut skin of his balls.
"Fuck, yes," Jim breathed. "Both of you—"
Jessie took his left testicle into her mouth, rolling it gently between her lips. Corey, still working the crown, moaned at the sensation. Her hand found the back of Jessie's head, guiding her, and together they fell into a rhythm. Corey's lips slid up and down his shaft, her tongue swirling around the head with practiced skill. Jessie's mouth worked lower, licking, sucking, her tongue pressing against the sensitive skin between his balls and his ass.
Jim's hands found their way into two heads of hair—Corey's blonde mane, Jessie's dark tresses. He guided them, fucked their mouths slowly, feeling the wet heat of their combined attention building pressure low in his gut.
"Corey," he said, his voice strained. "Is this—is this part of your plan?"
She popped off him with a wet sound, grinning up at him with swollen lips. "I don't know what you're talking about. This is just dinner conversation." Her eyes flicked to Jessie. "Right, babe?"
Jessie's mouth was still busy. She hummed her agreement against his balls, and the vibration nearly undid him.
Jim's grip tightened in their hair. "Get up here. Both of you.On the table."
They rose, and Corey gave a theatrical gasp as Jim swept his arm across the surface, sending trays, cups, and utensils clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the mess hall, sharp and obscene in the quiet. He didn't care.
He lifted Corey first, setting her on the edge of the table and spreading her legs wide. She was already soaking through her thin shorts. He pulled them aside, the fabric sticking to her slick flesh, and lowered his mouth to her, lapping at her clit with long, flat strokes.
"Fuck," she gasped. "Yeah, Jim, right there—"
Jessie climbed onto the table on her hands and knees, positioning herself above Corey's head. She settled her weight, her cunt hovering over Corey's face. Corey didn't wait for an invitation. Her tongue found Jessie's opening and delved inside, tasting her with a moan that vibrated through both of them.
Jim looked up at the sight—Jessie's hips grinding against Corey's mouth, Corey's body writhing under his tongue, both of them moaning in a shared rhythm. He was so hard it hurt.
"Jessie," he said, his voice rough. "Sit on my face."
She moved without hesitation, positioning herself over him. Jim lay back on the cold metal table, and she lowered herself onto his mouth. Her thighs pressed against his ears, her scent filling his senses—musky, sweet, utterly female. He lost himself in her, tongue probing, nose pressed against her clit.
From somewhere above him, he heard Corey's voice, breathless and demanding. "Fuck me, Jim. Do it. I need your cock."
He reached up, his hand finding Corey's hip, and guided himself to her soaked entrance. His cock, already slick from her mouth and his own pre-cum, slid inside with a wet, obscene sound. Corey cried out, her hips bucking, and Jessie moaned above him, grinding down harder against his mouth.
The three of them moved in sync, a chain of flesh. Jim's tongue circled Jessie's clit, tasting her, lapping up her juices as she ground against his face, her thighs trembling. His cock pistoned into Corey, driving deep, bottoming out, the wet slap of their bodies filling the mess hall. Corey's head fell back, her blonde hair fanning across the table, and she reached up to grip Jessie's hips, pulling her closer, eating her with renewed hunger.
"Fuck, that's it," Jessie breathed, her voice cracking. "Right there. Fuck my mouth, Corey. Eat me out. Make me come."
Jim drove his tongue deeper into Jessie's cunt, curling it, finding that spot that made her gasp. At the same time, he reached forward, his thumb circling Corey's clit as he fucked her. She nearly screamed, her legs kicking.
"I'm close," Corey panted. "Jim, I'm so close—"
"Wait," he managed, pulling his mouth away from Jessie just long enough to speak. "Look at me."
Corey's eyes met his, glassy and desperate. She obeyed.
"Come with us," he said. "All of us.Together."
Jessie began to move faster, no longer grinding but riding his mouth, chasing her release. Corey's hips bucked, her rhythm faltering as the pressure built. Jim held on, his tongue and his thumb working in concert, driving them both to the edge.
Jessie went first. She cried out, her body convulsing, her juices flooding his mouth. He drank her down, tasting her release, and the sensation pushed him over the edge with her. His hips slammed forward, filling Corey to the root, and he came with a guttural groan, his release spilling deep inside her.
Corey shattered beneath them, her scream echoing off the metal walls as she came, wave after wave, her inner walls milking him dry.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of panting, of flesh cooling, of the ship's eternal hum. Jim's face was slick with Jessie's release. His cock, still inside Corey, twitched with the last vestiges of his orgasm. Jessie slumped forward, her head resting on Corey's stomach, and Corey's hand found its way into her hair, stroking gently.
"Well," Corey said, her voice hoarse and satisfied. "That's one way to clear the table."
Jim laughed, a low, spent sound. He pulled out of her with a wet sound, his seed leaking out onto the white metal surface. Jessie lifted her head, looking down at the mess they'd made, and smiled.
"Six months," she said. "We're going to need a lot more protein."
Corey's eyes lit up with mischief. "Good thing I know where we keep the supplements."
Jim sat up, reaching for both of them. The mess hall, with its cold metal and amber light, felt warmer now. The hum of the ship was no longer just background noise—it was the sound of a home being built, slowly, out of skin and sweat and tangled limbs.
"I think," he said, pulling them close, "we're going to be very well-fed."
The mess hall hummed around them, indifferent to the wreckage of trays and the slick evidence of their hunger. Jim's arms stayed loose around both women, their heartbeats slowing in tandem against his ribs. A faint chill crept across his skin where sweat had begun to cool, and Corey shivered, pressing closer.
"Okay," Jessie said finally, her voice muffled against Corey's shoulder. "I think I need a shower." She lifted her head, a slow grin spreading across her face, the kind of smile that carried the promise of mischief. "Anyone want to join?"
Corey laughed, the sound light and wrecked. "You asking or telling?"
"Both."
Jim helped them off the table. His legs felt unsteady, but not from the sex—from the quiet wonder of it, the way their bodies had fit together like they'd been designed for each other. He collected the fallen trays, stacking them with mechanical precision. The mess hall would need to be spotless before the next shift came through. It was his job, after all.
"I'll clean up," he said.
Jessie tilted her head, a question in her eyes."You sure?"
"Go." He nodded toward the corridor. "I'll be there in five minutes." He paused, a flicker of heat moving behind his cool calm. "Don't start without me."
Corey grabbed Jessie's hand, pulling her toward the door with a laugh. They disappeared down the corridor, their voices echoing, their footsteps fading. Jim watched them go.
He worked quickly, efficiently, wiping down the table's surface, retrieving utensils from the floor. The mess hall, now spotless, seemed smaller without them. He lingered for a moment, letting the quiet settle. The ship hummed on, patient and constant.
When he reached their quarters, the lights were low, warm. The sound of water running filtered through the bathroom door, steam curling into the living space. He stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile by the bed, and pushed the door open.
The shower was a transparent cylinder—privacy screens optional, mostly for emergencies, a nod to the ship's bare-bones design. Jessie stood under the spray, her dark hair plastered to her skin, her head tilted back. Corey was behind her, her hands sliding soap over Jessie's ribs, her thumbs tracing the underside of Jessie's breasts.
"Took you long enough," Corey said without turning.
Jim stepped into the cylinder, the spray hitting his chest, warm and sharp. He reached for the soap, lathering his hands. "Had to make it look like I wasn't in a hurry."
"Oh, that's why your dick's hard?" Corey's eyes glittered in the steam."Real convincing."
Jessie turned, water streaming down her face. Her gaze dropped to his cock, then back up to his eyes. "You're going to be useful here." She stepped forward, pressing her body against his, her hands flat on his chest. "Because I've got a lot of soap on me that needs to be worked in."
Jim's hands found her hips, sliding around to cup her ass. He pulled her flush against him, the water making everything slick, her heat pressing against his half-hard cock. "I can do that."
Corey moved behind him, her hands reaching around to take the soap from his grasp. Her fingers traced down his spine, then lower, sliding between his cheeks. He tensed, then relaxed, letting her touch explore.
"Uh-huh," Corey murmured. "That's what I thought." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, her fingers finding his entrance, circling it with the slick, soapy pressure. "You like that, don't you?"
Jim's breath hitched. "Corey—"
"What?" She kissed the other shoulder blade, her finger pressing just a little deeper. "Jessie's not the only one who wants to get fucked today. I want to see you come apart first. I want to watch it happen."
Jessie's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, her grip firm, the water making every sensation sharper. He was trapped between them, steam and soap and the wet press of their bodies. The soap she had on her was now on him, was everywhere.
"Look at her," Jessie murmured. "Look at how hard she makes you. Look at what you give her."
Jim's head fell back. The water beat against his shoulders. Corey's finger pushed deeper, breaching him, finding the spot that made his knees buckle. Jessie's hand tightened around him, pumping in rhythm with Corey's finger, and he felt the heat building low in his gut, rising fast.
"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck—I'm going to—"
"Not yet," Corey said, pulling her hand back. "Not until you're on your knees." She turned off the water, the sudden silence loud in their ears. "Kneel, Jim."
He dropped to his knees on the wet floor. The cold shock of it brought him back, every sense sharp. Jessie knelt with him, her mouth finding his cock. Corey knelt behind him, her hands spreading him open, her tongue sliding over the entrance she'd just teased. He gasped, rocking back into her face, forward into Jessie's mouth. They worked him in tandem, taking him apart.
Jessie's mouth was hot and hungry, her throat opening to take him deep. Corey's tongue was thorough, probing, tasting, her fingers working in tandem with his mouth. He was drowning, lost in the dual sensations. The release building was a tidal wave, tearing him away from the shore.
"Please," he heard himself say, the word torn from somewhere primal. "Let me come. Let me come, please."
Corey pulled back, her hand stroking his ass. "Come in her mouth. Show her what she does to you."
Jessie looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with something like approval. She took him deeper, her hand cradling his balls, and Jim shattered. He came with a ragged groan, his release flooding her mouth, her throat working as she swallowed every drop. She kept him in her mouth until he was soft, until the last tremor had passed.
He collapsed onto his hands, breathing hard. Jessie rose, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Corey stood, stretching like a cat, water droplets still clinging to her skin. Jim looked up at them, his chest heaving, a lazy, sated smile tugging at his lips. "I think you two are going to be the death of me."
Corey's smile turned wicked. "That's the plan."
They helped him up, all three of them stepping out of the shower. They dried each other with soft towels, the simple intimacy settling over them. In the quiet of their quarters, the hum of the ship was a distant lullaby.
Later, tangled in the sheets, their limbs a map of touches, Jessie propped her head on her hand. "Six months is a long time," she said. "But I'm starting to think it's not going to be long enough."
Corey rolled onto her back, staring at the low ceiling. "The AI picked us for a reason. I'm starting to believe it." She turned her head to look at Jim. "You ever wonder what happens when we land? When we're not stuck on this ship together?"
Jim's hand found hers in the dark. "We build a life.A home. We figure it out as we go." He paused, the weight of the words settling. "We're already good at that."
Jessie propped herself up on an elbow, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I want to try something. Before we go to sleep." She reached over Jim, her hand finding Corey's thigh, her fingers stroking upward. "Just a little experiment."
Corey's breath caught. "What kind of experiment?"
"The kind where we see how many times I can make you come before Jim gets hard again." Jessie's smile turned predatory. "I'm betting on at least three."
Jim laughed, the sound soft in the dim light. He rolled onto his side, watching Corey's eyes darken with anticipation. "Don't count me out yet. I know Jesse. If she wants to put on a show, I'm not going to miss it."
Jessie leaned over Jim, her lips brushing Corey's. The kiss was slow, exploratory, tongues tangling. Jim watched, his cock beginning to stir again. When they parted, Jessie's smile was gone, replaced by something fiercer.
"Sit on my face," she said to Corey. "I want to taste you while Jim watches."
He watched them from the narrow bed, propped against the wall, the sheets tangled around his waist. The overhead light had dimmed to a low amber glow, casting long shadows across the walls. Jessie lay on her back, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, and Corey straddled her face with a confidence that made Jim's spent cock twitch with renewed interest.
Corey lowered herself slowly, her hands braced on the wall behind Jessie's head. The first contact made her exhale—a long, shuddering breath that filled the small room. Jessie's hands found Corey's thighs, fingers digging into the firm muscle, pulling her down harder.
"That's it," Corey breathed. "Right fucking there."
Jessie's tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes. She knew what she was doing. She'd learned Corey's body over the past week—the places that made her gasp, the rhythm that made her thighs tremble. Jim had watched them together enough times now to know that Jessie approached sex the same way she approached everything: with patience, observation, and devastating precision.
Corey's hips began to move, a slow grind against Jessie's mouth. Her blonde hair hung in her face, damp from the shower. Her breasts swayed with each roll of her hips, nipples hard and dark.
"Fuck," Corey whispered. "Fuck, Jessie, you're so good at that."
Jim's hand drifted to his cock, stroking slowly. He wasn't hard yet—not fully—but the heat was building again, a low thrum in his blood. Watching them was its own kind of pleasure. He understood now why Corey liked to observe. There was something sacred about witnessing two people give themselves to each other.
Jessie's tongue found Corey's clit, and Corey's whole body jerked. A sharp cry escaped her throat. She pressed down harder, grinding, chasing the pressure. Jessie responded by sliding two fingers inside her, curling upward, finding that spot that made Corey's vision blur.
"Don't stop," Corey gasped. "Don't you fucking stop."
Jessie didn't. She worked Corey with her mouth and hand in tandem, a rhythm that built and built. Jim watched Corey's face contort, watched her breath come in ragged gasps, watched her fingers claw at the wall for purchase. The first orgasm hit her like a wave—sudden, violent, her whole body clenching around Jessie's fingers.
Corey screamed. The sound bounced off the metal walls, raw and unguarded.
Jessie didn't let up. She kept licking, kept curling her fingers, drawing out the pleasure until Corey was shaking, until her thighs clamped around Jessie's head and she sobbed with the intensity of it.
"One," Jim said quietly from the bed.
Corey slumped forward, catching herself on her hands. Her chest heaved. Sweat beaded along her spine. She looked back at Jim over her shoulder, her eyes glazed, and managed a weak grin.
"Counting already?"
"Jessie said three." He stroked himself faster, feeling the blood flow return. "I'm keeping score."
Jessie pushed Corey off her face, rolling her onto her back. She moved with fluid grace, positioning herself between Corey's legs. She didn't speak—just lowered her mouth to Corey's cunt again, her tongue lapping at the swollen, sensitive flesh.
Corey cried out, oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Jessie held her hips down, pinning her to the mattress, and kept eating her with a focus that bordered on cruelty.
"That's too much," Corey panted. "I can't—Jessie, I can't—"
"You can." Jessie pulled back just long enough to speak. "You told me you wanted to be fucked until you couldn't think straight. Did you lie?"
Corey shook her head, breathless. "No. No, I didn't lie."
"Then take it."
Jessie's mouth descended again. This time she was gentler, softer, building Corey back up from the oversensitivity into something new. Her tongue worked in slow circles, coaxing, patient. Her fingers slid inside again, stretching, filling. Corey's protests turned into moans, her body relaxing into the rhythm.
Jim watched, his cock now fully hard, leaking pre-cum onto his stomach. He didn't touch himself anymore—just held the base, waiting. There was a time to participate and a time to witness. This was the latter.
Corey's second orgasm built slower, deeper. Her hips rolled with Jessie's movements, meeting each thrust of her fingers. Her hands found Jessie's hair, holding her in place, and she began to whisper—filthy things, desperate things.
"Fuck me, Jessie. Fuck me with your tongue. Make me come again. Please."
Jessie gave her what she wanted. Her tongue flicked hard against Corey's clit, her fingers pumping in and out, and Corey came with a low, guttural groan. Her body arched off the bed, held there by Jessie's relentless mouth, and then collapsed.
"Two," Jim said.
Corey laughed, the sound broken and wet. "You're enjoying this."
"More than you know."
Jessie sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her dark eyes found Jim's across the room. Something passed between them—a silent communication, a shared understanding. She crawled up Corey's body, pressing their mouths together, letting Corey taste herself on her lips.
"One more," Jessie said against Corey's mouth. "Then Jim gets his turn."
Corey's eyes fluttered open. "What about you?"
"I already came. Twice. While you were busy screaming." Jessie smiled, a rare, unguarded expression. "Now I want to watch my husband fuck you until you forget your own name."
Jim moved then, setting aside his position as spectator. He crossed the small room in three strides, his knees hitting the mattress, his hands finding Corey's hips. She was slick with sweat and arousal, her body pliant, ready. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her swollen, wet flesh.
"Ready?" he asked.
Corey nodded, her eyes locked on his. "Fuck me. Don't be gentle."
He couldn't have been gentle if he tried. The heat of her, the tight clench of her muscles—it stripped away every pretense of control. He drove into her in one long thrust, burying himself to the root. Corey gasped, her nails raking down his back.
Jessie settled beside them, her hand finding Corey's breast, her mouth finding Corey's nipple. She sucked hard, her tongue flicking against the sensitive peak, and Corey moaned beneath the dual assault.
Jim set a brutal rhythm. He fucked her the way she'd asked—hard, fast, without mercy. The bedframe creaked beneath them. The wet slap of their bodies echoed off the walls. He could feel every inch of her, every ripple of her inner walls, and the pressure was already building low in his gut.
"You're close," he said.
"So are you." Corey's voice was hoarse, barely recognizable. "Don't hold back. Fill me up. I want to feel it."
Jessie's mouth moved to Corey's other breast. Her hand slid down Corey's stomach, finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles. Corey's whole body tensed, a bowstring pulled taut.
"Come," Jessie commanded. "Come on Jim's cock. Let him feel it."
Corey shattered. Her body convulsed, a scream ripping from her throat that was equal parts pleasure and surrender. Jim felt the clench of her walls, the way her body milked him, and he couldn't hold back. He drove into her once more and came with a roar, spilling himself deep inside her, his vision going white at the edges.
When he could breathe again, he pulled out slowly. His cum leaked from Corey's cunt, a thick, milky trail that ran down her thigh. Jessie watched it, her tongue running over her lips.
"Three," Jim managed. "Told you."
Corey laughed, the sound weak but genuine. "You're both fucking monsters."
Jessie stretched out beside them, her hand tracing lazy patterns on Jim's chest. "I think we're just getting started."
The ship hummed around them, a constant heartbeat in the dark. Somewhere beyond the walls, past the observation deck with its endless view of stars, a new planet waited. Six months to figure out who they were to each other. Six months to build something that would survive the weight of a new world.
Corey turned her head to look at Jim, her eyes soft now, the sharp edges of her desire blunted by satisfaction. "Do you think about it? The landing? What it's going to be like?"
"All the time." He pulled her closer, his hand finding Jessie's hand on his chest. "A real house. Real soil. Real air."
Jessie pressed her face into his shoulder. "Real food. I can't wait to grow something. Tomatoes. Peppers. Corn." She paused, a small laugh escaping her. "I never thought I'd miss corn."
"You're a botanist." Jim's thumb traced circles on her skin. "It's in your blood."
"My grandmother had a garden. She used to say the earth remembers everything—every seed, every season, every hand that touches it." Jessie's voice was quiet, reflective. "I want to plant something on that planet. Something that came from here. A connection."
Corey propped herself on her elbow, her blonde hair falling across her face. "I want to build a gym. A real one, with gravity that doesn't fight you. I want to teach the colony kids how to move their bodies properly." She grinned. "And I want to have a baby. Maybe two. You two are going to help me with that, right?"
Jim's hand stilled on her hip. It wasn't the first time she'd mentioned it, but the weight of it never got lighter. Marriage, children, a new world—it was everything he'd signed up for. It was also everything that scared him.
"You're serious," he said.
"Of course I'm serious." Corey sat up, her expression suddenly fierce. "Why else do you think I chose this? The AI matched us for a reason, Jim. We're compatible on every level—emotionally, intellectually, genetically. You don't think that means something?"
Jessie was watching Corey with a thoughtful expression. "It means our children would have a better chance. Stronger. Healthier." She met Jim's eyes. "And longer-lasting family units mean more stable colonies. The data supports it."
"The data." Jim shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You two sound like mission briefings."
"We're being practical." Corey leaned forward, her hand cupping his face. "But it's not just about practicality. I want this. I want a baby with you. Both of you. I want to raise a family on that planet and watch our kids run through fields of Jessie's corn."
Jessie reached across Jim, her hand finding Corey's. "No more loneliness. No more watching from the sidelines." Her voice was soft, but there was steel beneath it. "We build something real."
Jim looked at them—this woman who had thrown herself into their arrangement with such fearless enthusiasm, and this woman who had once been afraid of being the third wheel. They were asking him to believe in something bigger than himself. They were asking him to trust them.
"I never thought I'd have this," he said finally. "A family. After Earth, after everything—I thought I'd be alone. Married to my work. Alone."
"You're not alone anymore." Corey kissed him, soft and lingering. "You've got two wives and a future full of screaming babies. Better get used to it."
He laughed, the sound surprising him. "I guess I better."
The three of them lay back, a tangle of limbs and warmth. The ship carried them onward through the dark, a fragile vessel hurtling toward an unknown world. Beyond the observation deck window, the planet below was a tiny blue-green disc, growing larger with every passing hour. They weren't there yet. They had six months.
But lying between them, feeling the steady beat of their hearts against his ribs, Jim realized that the journey was its own reward. The getting to know each other. The building of trust. The slow, careful construction of something that would hold when the ground beneath them finally solidified.
They slept eventually, their breath synchronizing, their bodies relaxed into the easy intimacy of people who had stopped performing and started belonging. Morning would come. Work would demand their attention. The mess hall would fill with other colonists, and they would put on their public faces again.
But here, in the dark, they were just Jim, Jessie, and Corey. Three people who had found each other in the void and decided to hold on.
The ship hummed. The stars watched. And somewhere below, a new world waited to catch them when they fell.