A note telling Haydn dinner is in the microwave clenches his gut. He’s late, like always. It’s been getting later and later these days but he can’t help it. He needs to figure this air purifying thing out. Countless people are counting on him. Without him, his device, humans can’t roam over the newest discovered planet, Tellurmorium or Planet 12, its discovery was only twenty-two years ago. Really, “Planet 12” is a slang term and it grates his nerves.

Tellurmorium sits in a new solar system, Beautiful Sky, and is the twelfth planet in the system. The air is toxic to humans and without his device… Haydn doesn’t even want to think about it. He only has a few more months before the deadline: September 2165. It maybe a little over two years from now but it’s still a lot of pressure.

Sighing, he tosses his keys on the counter and sets his briefcase full of notes on the table. His eyes hurt and he’s starting to get a headache.

The closed door to their bedroom almost seems like a barrier between him and the man he loves. Haydn suspects the precious time he spends at work is the true chasm between them.

Gritting his teeth, Haydn opens the door and makes his way inside. His husband, Harrison, lay under the covers presumably asleep. Not even bothering to strip, Haydn climbs into bed.

“You’re late.”

Haydn winces at the sound of his husband’s voice. The guilt overriding him almost takes his breath away. A hand on his shoulder, pulling him, forces Haydn to roll over. Harrison scoots closer, cuddling Haydn to his naked chest.

Harrison’s heartbeat under his ear gives him peace. “I’m sorry.”

“Mmm. If only your machine could run on sorry.” Harrison’s slight Italian accent becomes heavier when this tired.

“If only.”

“Or love.” Harrison kisses Haydn’s forehead making Haydn feel just a little more guilty. “Sleep or that big brain of yours will be useless come morning.”

Harrison’s breathing evens out telling Haydn the other man is already asleep. Haydn wishes he could fall asleep like that. It takes a while for his mind to quiet down and accept sleep, sometimes taking hours.

Haydn’s thoughts wonder to his device. He overcame the challenge of making it smaller and lighter. Now if only he can find a power source… Batteries are out of the question. They could fail or leak and that wound’t be good, plus the batteries would need replacing every ten years or so. That’s too dangerous in an environment that could kill you with just a single lung full.

If only it could be powered by love… Least his would work great if he ever decides to go to Tellurmorium.

Wait…

That’s it.

“Holy freak!” Haydn leans up and kisses Harrison. His husband seems surprised but returns his kiss all the same.

“What was that for?”

“You.” Haydn leans in for another kiss. “The answer.” Another kiss brings forth very appropriate urges between a married pair in Haydn.

Harrison groans and drags Haydn to lay over him. “You figured it out?”

“Hopefully and it’s all because of you.”

“I should receive some sort of reward.”

Haydn grins. “Come and get it.”