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The knock on Gem’s door is gentle enough that she thinks she mishears at first.
She pauses, halfway through dragging materials from her furnace, and glances over at the entranceway.
It’s dark out, so she can’t see much of anything through the small windows on the door, but after a beat, there’s another knock.
Carefully, she moves everything into the nearest chest to sort later, and then steps toward the door.
“Oh,” she says, surprised when she pulls it open to find Etho on the other side. “Did they finally kick you out?”
It’s just a joke based on the fact that he has a backpack slung over one shoulder, that his short hair is sticking up at odd angles, like he’s been carding his fingers through it, but he frowns down at her.
“No,” he says, “I thought there would be more space here.”
She can imagine it — four men crammed into one cabin, snoring, beds creaking whenever they shift, God knows what else. In comparison, Pearl and Grian are almost silent.
“Hmm,” she says quietly, before stepping out of the way and holding the door open. “Guess you can try out your new room.”
She thinks he smiles behind his mask, because his eyes go a little squinty before he brushes by her, smelling like sweat and gunpowder.
“Pearl’s working in the basement,” she tells him, closing and locking the door. “Grian’s already asleep upstairs.”
“And you?”
She shrugs. “Just catching up on everything I didn’t get done today.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
Gem rubs at her forehead, staring around the room. “I’m exhausted.”
Etho lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Leave it until tomorrow. We should sleep.”
We, he says, which isn’t lost on her.
“There’s never enough time,” she complains. “What if there’s a task tomorrow? What if I’m boogey?”
“You can handle it.”
“I can,” she agrees, before her shoulders slump. “I just don’t want to.”
He laughs outright this time, adjusting his bag.
“Gotta hope the universe cuts you some slack.”
“It won’t,” she promises and his eyes crinkle again, like he knows, too.
“So, sleep?”
It’s a temptation she actually has to fight.
“Go ahead,” she tells him, tipping her head toward the ceiling. “You know where your room is.”
He watches her silently, a dent between his brows, the way it goes whenever he’s thinking.
“It’s been a long week,” he says after a moment and she’s well aware.
She assumes it’s his attempt at trying to tell her to sleep without sounding like he’s trying to tell her to sleep. It’s sweet in a way Etho rarely is.
“I’ll come upstairs when I’m done.”
He seems to know she won’t budge, because he doesn’t try again, just nods.
“Alright,” he agrees, and adjusts his bag again. “Goodnight, Gem.”
“Night, Etho,” she replies, offering him a smile. “Don’t wake Grian when you pass through or he’ll make it everyone’s problem.”
His mask shifts as though he’s grinning.
“I’ll be careful.”
Gem watches as he turns and makes his way up the stairs. He has to duck to avoid bumping his head, the ceiling too low for a man his height, and she finds herself snorting softly.
She listens to his footsteps on the stone, fading as he climbs higher, and then she can’t hear a thing — which hopefully means Grian’s still sleeping soundly, undisturbed.
She lets out a breath and turns back to her work, mentally running through her to-do list for the next day.
*
She’s not sure what time it is when Pearl finally emerges from downstairs.
“Still up?” she asks around a large yawn, pushing her dark hair out of her face, and Gem leans away from the crafting bench, hands sore from working for so long.
“You are, too,” Gem points out and Pearl moves closer, gently nudging her shoulder.
“C’mon,” Pearl tells her. “Bedtime.”
“Soon,” Gem promises, and for a moment, Pearl looks as though she wants to argue. But her exhaustion must win out, because instead she nods.
“We’re doing pretty good,” Pearl says. “It’ll be fine.”
Gem offers her a tired smile. “Easy for you to say ‘cause you haven’t killed half the people around here.”
“They didn’t blame you today,” Pearl points out, but there’s still an uneasiness in Gem’s stomach.
“Secrets don’t last long here, you know that.”
Pearl nods in understanding and then covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawns again.
“I’m sorry my suffering bores you,” Gem jokes, just because she can, and Pearl immediately frowns.
“That’s not — ” she starts and Gem can’t help but laugh.
“I’m just teasing,” she promises. “Go sleep.”
Pearl hesitates, as though to make sure she knows Gem’s okay, but then nods definitively.
“Okay,” she agrees. “But you better come up soon.”
“I will,” Gem lies, and Pearl gently touches her arm before stepping away and heading for the stairs.
“G’night, Gem,” she says, and Gem offers her a smile.
“Night, Pearl.”
*
By the time Gem finally gives in, too tired to keep going, she thinks the sun’s not far off from rising.
The portal hums quietly as she passes it on her way upstairs, and when she reaches their bedroom, Grian and Pearl are sprawled out across the bed, fast asleep. They look comfortable tucked together the way they are and she finds herself not wanting to disturb.
Quietly, she kicks off her shoes and strips out of her armor, leaving everything in a pile beside the bed — beside Grian and Pearl’s own armor.
In the desert, the air is dry and still warm, even this far into the night, and it only seems to get hotter when Gem climbs the ladder up to the next floor.
It’s lighter in Etho’s bedroom, too, the lack of roof helping, but Etho’s nothing but a dark lump in the bed across from her.
The floor creaks beneath her and he shifts.
“Hmm?” he mumbles, and Gem shouldn’t be surprised that he’s a light sleeper.
“Just me,” she whispers and the shape of him moves, enough that she’s sure he’s leaning up on one elbow.
“What time is it?”
His voice is gravelly from disuse and she thinks she likes it.
“Late,” she answers. “Maybe early.”
He grunts and shifts again. “Sleep?”
It’s succinct and Gem finds herself smiling.
“Yeah,” she agrees, stepping closer, and she finds Etho has already moved to the left side of the bed, the covers folded down like an invitation.
She takes another step and half stumbles over something soft on the floor — his jacket, she realizes, or maybe his pants.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, like he knows, but she doesn’t care.
She takes a moment to unfasten her overalls, pushing them down, over her hips, and then stepping out of them.
She has no idea if he can see, if his eyes have adjusted enough, but he doesn’t say anything, not even when she sits on the edge of the mattress and swings her legs up.
Instead, he waits until she's settled before covering her with the blankets, as though she can't do it herself. His hands are warm and sure, running atop the sheets, and she decides it's nice.
Another rarely seen sweetness from Etho.
“Okay?” he asks, and Gem nods — making a noise of assent when she realizes he probably can't see — her head sinking into a pillow that smells endlessly of Etho.
He pulls his arms back toward himself, and when he readjusts, the bed rocks enough that she finds herself sliding closer, their hips touching.
Above them, the sky is filled with an unending amount of stars, some of them twinkling, and it feels nicer than it should.
“Maybe we should leave the roof off,” Gem mumbles and Etho hums in acknowledgement.
“Airy,” he supplies. “Good view.”
Gem’s tired enough that she can’t bite back the snort of amusement.
Etho’s always been funny in his own way and Gem’s felt more susceptible to it lately.
“Did you really think we’d trap this room?” she asks and Etho lets out a breath, adjusting again, and she thinks he tucks one hand behind his head because the smell of his sweat gets stronger.
“I wasn’t sure.”
“If I wanted to kill you, I’d just do it,” she tells him and he must be looking at her, because his breath ruffles her hair when he exhales, almost a laugh.
“I know.”
“So why are you so suspicious of everything I do? I was trying to be nice.”
She doesn’t admit that the whole bedroom thing was Grian’s idea.
“Thank you, Gem,” he says, and it sounds like he’s smiling.
Carefully, she rolls onto her side, facing him, her arms tucked in close between them, and Etho doesn’t mention it, but he adjusts, one hand settling between her shoulders.
It sends her heart stumbling, but she thinks she likes this sweet part of Etho most of all.
She lets it sit for a moment, wondering if he’ll immediately change his mind, but when he doesn’t, she shifts just a fraction closer, resting her head at the soft spot where his arm joins his body.
He’s not wearing a shirt, she realizes, her cheek pressed against endlessly warm skin, and she expects him to silently ease her away, but he doesn’t.
He seems agreeable to it, and Gem finds herself relaxing more against him, bringing one hand up to the center of his chest.
She can feel coarse hair and softly defined muscles beneath her palm and she has to remind herself to breathe.
“Is this how you sleep with the cottagecore boys?” she asks as a distraction for her own thoughts.
“Cabin Crew,” he corrects, and then after a beat, adds, “no.”
This is just for her.
“Good,” she decides, letting her thumb drag back and forth against his skin.
“Is this how you sleep with Grian and Pearl?”
She supposes it’s a fair question in return.
“No,” she replies, shutting her eyes as his grip on her tightens just a moment before relaxing.
“Good.”
If she wasn’t so tired, she might see what else she can get him to admit, but there’s the danger of scaring him off entirely. She’s already pushed enough for one day.
She lets herself sink against him a little more, sleep tugging at the edges of her brain.
“Don’t try to sneak out before I wake up,” she tells him, the last thing she can bring herself to say, and she feels his answering grunt vibrate against her cheek.
It’s not a yes or no.
She supposes she’ll find out once dawn comes.
She hums quietly and slips down and down and down into her dreams before she even realizes.
*
Gem wakes at some point to the sensation of Etho encouraging her onto her side. She goes easily, still too tired to think, but makes a soft sound in response.
“Just getting comfortable,” he murmurs, voice low, and she doesn’t fight him when he drags her back by the hips, spooning up behind her.
His arm slips under her pillow, nowhere else to go, but his other hand edges under the hem of her shirt to settle on her stomach.
He’s a wall of heat behind her and Gem doesn’t care. She likes how solid he feels, how sure he is about holding her.
She makes another noise, waking up a little more.
It’s lighter now — she can make out more details of the room, can see her discarded overalls on the floor, along with Etho’s jacket and shirt.
She shifts, liking the way her skin drags against the material of his pants.
“Gem,” Etho says softly, and she thinks it's a warning, but she's always been good at ignoring those.
“What?” she asks, feigning innocence even as she moves again, and she can feel him — it's morning after all.
He holds her tighter as though it'll help.
“Gem.”
His voice is rougher this time and Gem's weak when it’s that close to her ear. She settles her hand over his and shifts purposefully.
Etho exhales shakily, but doesn’t try to stop her.
“Isn’t this what you came for?” she asks, keeping her voice low. “Or have you been lingering around here for another reason?”
She expects him to balk at the accusation, to at least make an attempt to fight her, but maybe it’s because he’s still half asleep, because he doesn’t. Instead, he tucks his face against her throat and breathes quietly.
She can feel that he’s not wearing his mask, his stubble rasping against her skin, and all she’d have to do is roll over onto her back to see him — all of him.
“Grian and Pearl are still downstairs,” he says, like that’s his only reservation, and Gem starts a slow motion with her hips, enjoying the way he adjusts his hand as though wanting to encourage her.
“I don’t plan on being loud,” she replies. “Do you?”
Etho’s careful when he grinds forward in return, but it still takes Gem’s breath away that he’s actually reciprocating.
She’d wondered about his interest, whether or not he actually wanted her. Etho’s always been unreadable, but the risk had seemed worth it. Especially here in this new world with new possibilities.
He’s almost silent as he rubs against her, but she likes being able to hear each breath he takes and how he exhales whenever she nudges her hips back to meet him halfway.
“What do you want?” he asks, voice so low she almost misses it, but Gem’s mind floods with options.
She could ask for his fingers or his dick, or maybe she could push her luck and ask for his mouth. She’s not sure she’d be able to stay quiet with that, though.
“Roll over,” she tells him, and she feels his hesitation in the rhythm of his hips.
But after only a moment, he gives in, drawing away to roll onto his back, and Gem turns to follow him.
His features aren’t entirely clear in the morning light, but she likes the sharpness of his chin, the darkness of what appears to be a scar across his mouth.
She kisses him before she can talk herself out of it, and it seems to take him by surprise because his lips part as he inhales.
He’s not at all coordinated when he returns it — maybe because he’s still half asleep, maybe because of inexperience — and Gem can’t help but feel endeared, one hand finding his jaw and guiding him the way she wants.
It's easy to slip one leg over his hips and slide into his lap, careful not to break their kiss as she goes.
He makes a soft noise that vibrates against her mouth and his hands clutch at her waist when she presses down on him.
“Stay quiet,” she reminds him with a whisper, and he bucks under her, lifting her up.
It feels better like this — with her legs spread, he presses right where she wants him, where she’s wet for him, and even through the material of her underwear, it’s enough.
She kisses him again as she grinds down, setting a rhythm that he picks up on quickly.
With the sheets bunched up around their waists, Gem’s free to pull away from Etho’s mouth to stare down at him, at the lithe form of his chest. There are shadows — perhaps more scars — down the left side, and when she sets her hand there, she finds it’s slightly misshapen, sunken in like part of him is missing.
He’s quick to reach for her hand, nudging it away, and she can't tell if it hurts him. He doesn’t say and she doesn’t ask. Instead, she moves her hand lower, down to his stomach, and she feels the way his breath catches.
When she tucks the tips of her fingers under the waistband of his pants, his grip on her tightens, and she presses her other hand beside his pillow and leans down, closer.
“Want more?” she asks softly, thumb circling around the button above his fly, fingers flexing just enough to be a hint.
She’d happily unfasten his pants and let him fuck her properly.
But Etho reaches down, holding onto her wrist and tugging just enough to pull her hand away.
“Like this,” he tells her, touching her waist again, guiding her. “Just like this.”
He’s a simple man.
Gem kisses him again, trailing her mouth down to his chin, to his jaw, where she pants quietly, still rocking against him. She grazes her teeth across the side of his neck as her pleasure climbs higher, and one of his hands slips up the back of her shirt.
When Etho bucks up against her, the bed creaks beneath them and Gem finds herself freezing, worried about the others waking.
But Etho’s insistent, tugging at her hips to get her to move again, riskier than she expects him to be with something like this.
“Don’t stop,” he says, maybe closer to the edge than her, and Gem’s eager to give him what he wants.
“We’re gonna make a mess,” she whispers, moving so that her mouth brushes his as she speaks, pushing the words between his lips to be heard.
But he holds her tighter, like he doesn’t care, like he has only one thing on his mind.
She likes the thought of sending him back to his team with a mess in his pants, a sign that despite their allegiance, he let himself be that vulnerable with her.
“If we’re both still alive at the end of this, you’re going to do this properly,” she whispers, and Etho exhales so loudly she has to kiss him quiet.
“Gem,” he murmurs when she finally breaks away, and she finds herself pulling back enough to slide her palm over his mouth instead.
And the insane thing is that he lets her. He doesn’t try to pull it away, like he knows he can’t be trusted, like he’s too far gone to be silent.
She stares down into his eyes, and he watches her unblinking.
Gem comes first, unexpectedly quick, her orgasm short but sharp, and she bites her lip to stay quiet, eyes falling shut.
Etho doesn’t stop rutting up against her and it gets harder and harder to stay silent.
His hands get rougher and she wonders what it would be like if he was actually fucking into her. Whether he’d get faster, try to push himself deeper as his desperation worsened.
She shifts her weight, opening her eyes just enough to see the way Etho rakes his gaze down her body, settling low, where they’re grinding together. She wishes he could see how wet she is for him, but it’s still not light enough and the angle isn’t right. If he touched her, he’d be able to feel.
Instead, he runs his hands down her thighs, his jaw going tight as he trembles beneath her, coming with the quietest of grunts.
Gem keeps moving, letting him ride out the feeling until he eventually pins her down on his hips, holding her steady.
She folds at the waist, kissing him, just because she can, and she likes the way he returns it so carefully in between heavy breaths.
He gets one hand on the back of her head, keeping her close, and Gem wants to stay in that moment forever.
But there’s a thud from the room below, and Gem finds herself hesitating, breaking the kiss to listen.
Etho opens his eyes, watching her, though it’s clear he’s also listening, because he tenses as though preparing to move.
“Where’s Gem?” a voice asks — clearly Grian — which means it must be time for him and Pearl to get up and prepare for the day ahead.
“Her gear’s here,” Pearl answers and Gem knows she’s spotted the armor on the floor.
There’s another thud and then a couple of footsteps.
“Is she in Etho’s room?” Grian asks, and Gem finds herself following Etho’s lead, leaning up with one hand pressed to his shoulder, preparing for the worst.
No one knows Etho is with her. It would probably be easier to keep it that way.
“Etho,” she whispers, and he gives the slightest shake of his head, touching her waist as though to encourage her to stay still.
But there’s a familiar creak, like Grian’s on the ladder to make his way upstairs.
“Don’t,” Pearl says, and the sound of movement stops. “Let her sleep. She was up late.”
“But we — ”
“It can wait a bit longer,” Pearl points out, and Gem finds herself grinning down at Etho, watching the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Fine,” Grian says, and there’s a noise like he drops off the ladder, and Gem lets out a slow breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
Their footsteps disappear, like they’ve gone downstairs, and Gem slumps against Etho, waiting there a beat, just to be sure, before she slips to the side and eases herself into the space next to him.
“That was lucky,” she whispers against his shoulder, letting out a laugh, and she likes the softness of his expression when he glances over at her.
“I think I’ll be nicer to Pearl today,” he murmurs, and Gem smiles, touching his jaw and silently encouraging him closer to kiss her — which he does. It’s quick and chaste, and leaves her wishing she could steal them from him all the time.
“Please don't betray us,” she whispers against his mouth, and Etho makes a noise that could be agreement.
But she's not entirely surprised that he doesn't answer properly, that he doesn't immediately try to reassure her that he would never do that.
He doesn't want to lie to her, and Gem watches him carefully for a moment before shifting forward to press one last kiss to his lips.
Whatever happens will happen, but for now she's happy to settle back against his side, to let him tuck his arm around her and pull her close.