"That thing can't be safe," I said.

"That's the point," Luke laughed as he stepped away.

During our first week on Earth, we were both scared. I hadn't figured out how to build our bunker yet. Luke and I had been sleeping under rubble near a denser part of the jungle. Too naive to know where or what was safe, we were on the outskirts of danger.

Regardless, Luke was good about acting brave. He never let me see a frown during those first few days. But I knew, beneath his bravado, there was fear like my own.

"You'll cut yourself," I warned while watching him fasten a street sign to a metal pole he wrapped with leather. 

I had to admit the weapon was nice. It had presence. It had craftsmanship. Luke twirled it around, stabbing at trees, and to my surprise, nothing broke off. He was clumsy in his movements but played them off as flair. All the while, I sat waiting to cling to his arm again.

When Luke finally had to rest and returned to me, I stood up from the broken concrete. Expecting a hug, a kiss, or something to end the montage of training, relief grew on my face.

He offered to let me hold the spear.

Out of the blue, he walked over and held out the weapon he'd spent days crafting. I refused to take it, but he told me, "I made this one for you." 

My protector had built a weapon for my hands, but I never had to use it. Not even once. He wielded it for me until he made his own. 

Two years later, my spear hadn't moved from a spot against the wall. It had collected dust. 

"Preston?" Luke stirred awake. 

I had only left him for a moment. He could have slept longer, probably would have slept all day, had I not gotten up. I thought he'd relax while I fiddled with our computer. 

He slowly started to sit up. I could tell by the sound of his stretching. When I glanced over, he had finally stood up to find me. Considering how small the bunker was, his short steps hardly amounted to a search. 

"You're up early," my boyfriend yawned and rested a hand on my shoulder. 

"I was thinking," I said. 

"About?"

"This computer. If we had the parts, we could link it to the space station." 

"But we've scavenged all the parts we're going to find," he reminded me.

"I know, but just because we can't talk to the space station doesn't mean there's no one to talk to," I explained.

Luke, scratching his head, sat beside me on the floor. His bedhead was adorable, but I tried to focus when he yawned, "Go on." 

"If we were smart enough to use our pods to make a bunker, maybe other people were smart enough to fix their computers," I reasoned, but all Luke said was, "Maybe."

I couldn't get a read on him. Was he uninterested or just tired?

"You don't think it's a bad idea?" 

"I don't want you to be disappointed," he cautioned my efforts. 

He grabbed my head and made me lean till he kissed my forehead. Gradually my protector moved me to sit in his lap. With his arms around me, he rested his hands on my lap and shamelessly fondled my manhood. The sudden touch was typical for us. Without anything concrete to stress over, few things stopped us from constantly "bonding."

"What are you doing today?" I asked while I returned to tinkering, but Luke slipped my dick out of hiding. 

For a few breaths, I had to shut my eyes to relax, but he was gentle enough to multitask. 

"Practice," he told me and rested his head on my shoulder. 

I could feel his length going up my back while he played with me. 

"Really?" I grunted, "You haven't practiced in months."

"If you're dead set on finding people, I need to be ready when they get here," Luke said. 

The friction was growing too constant to ignore. My hands froze, but my hips moved in time with his stroking till we had a rushing pace.

He wanted my attention. 

"Wait," I said before he could finish me then and there. 

Slowly he took his hands away as my breath began to hitch.

"What? We haven't since yesterday," Luke laughed and licked his fingers clean.