don’t say yes

by scottishgremlin

Summary:

“Something had changed between them… Aiden [had] slipped out of his hands like water.”

Harvard, a newly-promoted starship captain, returns to his home planet for a restful break away from life-or-death situations that hinged on his decisions. Unfortunately, the need for decision making follows him back.

Aiden, the son of the ogliarch who owns about half of the galaxy they live in, is unsatisfied with a life that, by anyone else’s standards, would be considered desirable or even perfect. However, soon, he’s thrown into situations and must face challenges he could never have imagined (the challenges in question? emotional intimacy).

(Title from Speak Now by Taylor Swift)

Notes:

• For sometimeswritingsometimesdying.

happy holidays!! it was so much fun (and a no-brainer) writing haiden for another haiden enjoyer. you gave me so many great prompts to pick from and i didn’t initially want to write an au fic but shoutout to my irl for helping me brainstorm ideas, eventually landing on this! it’s not finished (apologies), but i promise the rest is coming in 2025 :’)

Chapter 1: Harvard

Notes:

“How did I believe I had a hold on you?” - Hot & Heavy, Lucy Dacus

“Last shuttle bus to Castello City at Gate 4,” the intercom blared out. “Leaving in fifteen minutes.”

Harvard smiled, breathing out a sigh of relief, breathing in the atmosphere of the space around him. Travellers went about their business with purpose, resolve, or wandered, searching for such, rushing or strolling around the place. The port on Ordorex was always nice to return to when Harvard was home between missions, this time particularly; only a short shuttle ride from Castello, which held the childhood home he grew up in and a small apartment he’d bought with the pay rise that came with the Captain promotion. The station was liminal but not immaterial, brimming with the smell of engine fuel and endless possibilities.

As he made his way to Gate 4 for the shuttle, kit bag slung over his shoulder, Harvard began making a mental list of the things he planned to do that week while he was home. He’d visit his parents, have dinner; he had plans with friends from his old cohort at the Officer Academy to catch the latest holo-picture; he’d try and catch Aiden, too, if he was around. It was difficult to see Aiden these days, or even talk to him over comms. Something had changed between them when Harvard had left for officer school three years ago. They’d still meet up when Harvard was back in town on breaks, but things between them had shifted; Harvard could feel it, minute but painfully obvious. He’d failed to keep his eye on Aiden who, as a result, had slipped out of Harvard’s hands like water.

He scanned his wristband as he got onto the rapidly-filling shuttle. Spotting a free seat, he sat down, sighing as his body sank into its plush depth, like he did every time. Harvard licked his lips, wishing he had a drink to ease the dryness of his throat. There hadn’t been time to stop at a vending machine for one if he wanted to catch this shuttle, the last shuttle of the night.

He needed to get home, needed to see his family. Harvard’s most recent mission had been a long one, longer than what he was used to and, coupled with the added responsibility of being a captain, had particularly challenged him. Seeing his friends and family, remembering what it was like to walk on solid ground and feeling the pull of not the synthesised gravity provided in spacecraft but actual gravity, the pull of the planet beneath his feet, would surely restore his usual peace of mind. Or at least he’d only be riddled with the mundane anxieties of everyday life and not life and death, he hoped.

Beyond the toll of the most recent mission, Harvard felt as though he needed to see his family and friends to have some other conversations, too. Difficult conversations. But that was neither here nor there; you’re meant to be relaxing, he reminded himself, as he sank further into the seat and tried to make the most of the wait that would, hopefully, not last too long.

***

The wait lasted far longer than Harvard would’ve liked, as well as it taking far too long to find out what exactly was causing the delay. The shuttle driver seemed to be just as clueless as their passengers but, with a look through the wind-proof glass shuttle windows, it soon became apparent.

The surrounding area — concrete runways stretching out into the horizon, punctuated with spaceships and shuttles, as if holding up the violet sky and its wispy clouds — had been set up for some sort of event. A tent made of a white, silky fabric had been erected, and more flowers than Harvard had ever seen in his life arranged on stands clustering around the tent. Servers brandished trays of jewel-coloured drinks to people in not-quite-formal-but-certainly-not-casual-wear.

A helicopter swept out from the clouds and landed, a pointed distance from the tent and the flowers, loudly. Stepping out of it was a chauffeur dressed in black, followed by a slighter figure. The figure leaned in to say something to the chauffeur, who nodded and remained stood by the helicopter, while the figure made their way towards the commotion.

Harvard recognised the silhouette, and the saunter.

Harvard recognised the saunter before he could even see the figure as a person, not just a slightly blurred shape in the distance.

Aiden Kane, in a garment that ebbed and flowed with his every movement, made of turquoise silk that seemed highly impractical for his current surroundings, took his time strolling towards the tent. His hair was loose, falling in waves around his face. His skin was glowing, and he looked as radiant as Harvard remembered, but something wasn’t quite right with the air about him.

A fair haired young man in pale blue stepped out of the tent as Aiden approached. Triumphant symphonic melodies started to blast from speakers. Harvard felt the pit in his stomach widening when he realised what was happening, a moment before it happened.

When Aiden reached the silky tent, billowing in the breeze, the man in blue got down on one knee and pulled out a small box.

“That’s the Kane Industries heir,” someone on the shuttle said to the person sitting next to them. “And Jay Jones, you know, the actor.”

“They’re together?” the person replied in surprise. “I would’ve never guessed.”

“Well, you know,” the first person said, in a smug tone that made Harvard grit his teeth, “Aiden Kane is something of a player, and that’s an understatement.”

Harvard wanted to get out of his seat, march down the aisle to where the two were sitting, and shout at them that they had got it all wrong. That they didn’t know Aiden like he did; didn’t know how kind, and sweet, and tender he could be. Didn’t know what it was like to sit with him under a starlit sky and laugh at his jokes, razor-sharp, until they couldn’t feel anything except the pain in their sides. Didn’t know the multitudes of complexities that were somehow contained in the slender shape of him.

But he didn’t; he just sat there, continuing to watch the scene unfold as Jay Jones’ mouth made the shape of words that were almost certainly “Aiden Kane, will you marry me?”

Harvard caught a glimpse of Aiden’s expression: shocked, then quickly masked by the characteristic indifference that drove all of his lovers beyond their senses. The other young man’s expression was expectant, clearly waiting for a response. Aiden’s mouth opened… and then the shuttle took off, finally, and any words that may have been exchanged between the couple outside were lost to the wind roused by the shuttles fumes and the rumble of the engine.

Chapter 2: Aiden

Notes:

"It's just another day / And it's not over 'til it's over / It's never over" - The Subway, Chappell Roan

Cold.

Aiden Kane was so fucking cold. He peered around the crowded bar, patrons talking and laughing in twinkling tones, then back at the glass in his hand. The amber-colored liquid bubbled and shimmered as he swirled the glass, catching and manipulating the light from retro-style lanterns interspersed around the room.

He'd come here for a drink, a distraction, and instead, he was freezing to death. If this was how he was to die, he thought, he should've taken three pills when offered by a socialite he didn't know nor care to know, instead of just the one. Aiden raked a hand through his hair, far too dishevelled now to be considered stylishly tousled, and grimaced.

The entire ordeal with Jason (James? John?) earlier had been ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Was this what the world was coming to? Sleep with a man, and be accosted with a proposal of marriage? Aiden had a bitter taste in his mouth just thinking about the m-word. No, it was indeed ridiculous; he tossed back the glass, gulping.

A few more drinks later, ironically, Aiden felt himself sober up. Julian (Aiden had decided the perpetrator's name was) was not the type to orchestrate such a spectacle, even with his inclination towards the dramatic. The man was as sheltered as a greenhouse flower, naïve, like Aiden had been when he'd left home for the first time. Pretty, sure, but functionally useless. When you were young, and rich, and had seen a fraction of the world - in all its gore and glory - you thought you'd seen it all. You thought you knew the lay of the lands, the subtleties of the social calibrations.

Aiden had learned, too late, that he knew nothing. All he had was a taste for fun that danced the line with self destruction, a tendency to screw things up, and an instinctual feeling of wrongness.

I need some time to think. Why, oh why, would Aiden have given such a sober, uncharacteristic response if not because of an instinct? An inkling that not everything was as it seemed?

He drained two shots of a smoking, electric-blue substance before he came to a conclusion. His father was behind it, trying to get his son to behave, to repair the image of the Kane family. To show that, behind the imposing presence of the galaxy's (and probably the next galaxy's) biggest business empire were just a man who worked hard and earned everything he had, and a bright, dutiful heir. Never mind the stacks of divorce papers in the familial estate. Never mind the scandals in the news channels.

Aiden saw a dark-haired figure approach him in his periphery. A familiar longing, a homesickness settled in, and he couldn't remember the reason he'd had to feel like that. He heard them talking to him, heard the sounds but not the words they formed, responding "yes" when offered a drink. Raise the glass to his lips; swallow. He felt skin-to-skin contact, a clammy hand on his cheek. The snag of sharp fingernail on tender skin.

He woke up in a bed he didn't recognise.

 

***

Aiden dreamt of warm, solid arms around him, bodies in a contortion act to fit into the tiny boarding school bunk. He came to in the cold, tangled between unfamiliar limbs. Disengaging himself, head throbbing, he assessed his situation. He was standing in a bedroom, local sports team posters on the walls, heavy curtains tied back to let the early morning light stream in, lilac-grey. His clothes were in a crumpled pile on the floor, near the foot of the bed. He pulled them on, then slipped out of the apartment, light-footed as if he'd never been there in the first place.

***

Aiden was on the subway.

Aiden hated the subway, hated the engine groaning and huffing melancholically, hated the crowds of commuters and tourists that made him feel alone, insignificant, and purposeless. Unfortunately, the subway also provided anonymity which, after the previous day's events, was much needed, so Aiden was on the subway. He sat down in an empty seat next to a handrail and peered at his wristband's display screen. A new stream of notifications flowed in; Aiden deleted them all. He scrolled through video clips on the entertainment and social feed for a while, then sighed, the intended distraction not fucking distracting him from the impending sense of doom he felt. Three days, Julian had said, three days and you give me an answer. It felt like a ticking time bomb Aiden didn't know how to diffuse, nor to even minimise the impact of the explosion.

Harvard would've known, Aiden thought, then quickly pushed the thought away. Harvard had left the planet for bigger and better things, and that was how it should be. Because I wasn't enough, Aiden thought. Wasn't good enough to love Harvard in the way he deserved, with flesh and blood, not tooth and nail. Wasn't clever enough to get his shit together and follow Harvard to officer school, where he would've undoubtedly flunked out, but at least he'd have had more time with Harvard. Wasn't even brave enough to tell Harvard how he felt, to ask for what he wanted. And now Harvard was gone, a face spotted during holidays, features glazed over with a life Aiden didn't want to know about because it was a life Aiden wasn't in. The past three years, without Harvard, had been agonising, and Aiden had no reason to expect anything to change in the future.

"Aiden?" he heard a voice say. He looked up. Blue eyes behind rimless square glasses stared at him with concern.

"Kally," Aiden responded. And, looking to Kally's left side, "Tanner." While Kally's dark hair had grown out, gathered in a low ponytail, Tanner hadn't changed since the last time Aiden had seen him.

"You haven't been responding to my messages," Kally said. "Are you doing alright?"

"Never been better." Aiden smiled at the couple, though it probably looked more like a grimace. "Not a care in the world."

"You've certainly looked better," Tanner observed. Aiden didn't have the energy to glare at him.

"Yeah, what have you been up to?" Aiden asked Tanner. "Still procrastinating job applications?"

"Actually, I'm employed now, so you can't make fun of me for that anymore."

"Aiden, Harvard's back in town for a bit - we're seeing him later today," Kally interjected. "I think he would really appreciate it if you joined us."

Aiden could hear his heart thrumming inside his ribcage. "Wasn't invited," he said, slowly. "I don't crash parties anymore. I'm not sixteen."

"That is exactly what you would still do. Harvard misses you.” Tanner said. “Kally’s right, you should join us.”

“No chance,” Aiden snapped. “You think he wants to see me, after I’ve ghosted him for the past six months?”

He stood up, not bothering to apologise to the people he collided with in the action. No such thing as innocent strangers, anyway; everyone in the world was fucked up in some way. Everyone except Harvard.

The train beeped to indicate its arrival at a station, and Aiden got off, not caring where he was.

He mulled over the invitation from Kally and Tanner. He wanted to see Harvard again more than anything else. He knew he couldn’t.

 

Notes:

i’m sorry for disappearing but i’ve been so so busy with school (and fencing lol)! but now i’m done with exams so i have time to write and engage with my hobbies again, surprisingly enough. i struggled to write this chapter for months, but i tried again a few days ago and it just came out of me; it’s not even beta’d because i'm so excited to release it.

thank you soooo much to everyone who read and commented on the previous chapter, it means a lot to me! comments and kudos are massively appreciated, if you have any thoughts on this chapter i’d love to see them in the comments <3

who knows how long the next chapter will take lol

Chapter 3: Harvard

Notes:

“I don't wanna know the details… / Just wanna know where you’ve gone” - Details, Maisie Peters

Harvard groaned, clasping his hands over his eyes and tilting his head back.

He was on holiday. He was supposed to be relaxing.

Dear Harvard Lee, the beginning of the email read. We would like to offer you the role… He could see it in his mind’s eye, blue light emitted from the tablet screen. The sharp contrast of black text, letters like bricks paving out a path he could take. It wouldn’t be a smooth path nor an easy one; it demanded everything Harvard could give, and more. He would be further away from Ordorex than he’d ever been, away from everything he’d ever known and everyone he loved, and for four years at that. However, undeniably, it was the sort of opportunity you got once every lifetime. It would be ridiculously beneficial for his career progression. Harvard had always had considerable aspirations, belief that he would achieve them, and no reason to think otherwise.

Just take the damn job then, he thought to himself. What’s stopping you?

He couldn’t answer that, so he got up and went to his kitchen to get something to drink, not thirsty but needing to do something, anything. He returned to the comfort of his armchair, and surveyed the condensation forming on the glass in his hand. He took a sip of the drink, and a floral sweetness filled his mouth.

He wondered what Aiden would be drinking in a situation like this - probably something stronger, if the two decades they’d spent together as kids and then young adults were to account for anything. What was Aiden up to right now? It was a game he liked to play, whenever he missed his best friend. He’d come up with it during his first year at officer school when, despite constant video calls and care packages, the distance between them had felt unbearable. He didn’t yearn for his city, but he yearned for the beds pushed together in the room he’d shared with Aiden, the presence of a warm body next to his.

What was Aiden up to right now? More importantly, what had Aiden been up to on the airfield that day? How had he responded to Jones’ extravagant display? Harvard wanted answers to these questions more than anything, yet he’d avoided the news and everything celebrity gossip-related like a plague since that day. He’d tried to keep it out of his mind by keeping busy but, between helping his mother with her rooftop gardening project, hanging out with Kally and Tanner, and now having to make a decision that would significantly impact his career and personal life, thoughts still managed to intrude.

He’d be even further from Aiden if he took the job, Harvard realised. They’d become distant already, and not from physical separation alone, Harvard also realised. Deep down, he had already contended with the truth, but the realisation still came like a punch to the gut. Aiden hadn’t responded to any of his messages within the last six months, nor sent any of his own. It had been radio silence - not even a single short-form video clip which, historically, Aiden had been so fond of bombarding Harvard’s notifications with. Harvard’s best friend had not become a stranger, but something worse, a ghost; his presence, once so pervasive and integral to Harvard’s life, now a shadow.

A message pinged up on his wristband, snapping Harvard out of the spiral his thoughts had formed. This place looks good for dinner on Wednesday, Kally had sent, with a link to a menu. He clicked on the menu and skimmed over it, then clicked back to his messaging thread with Kally. Or, at least, that was what he’d intended to click onto. Instead, he had accidentally brought up a tabloid’s webpage, with crude headlines typed up in large fonts. KANE INDUSTRIES HEIR SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY MAN captioned a blurry photograph. Unable to stop himself, Harvard clicked on the photograph, which showed Aiden being taken by the arm by a man whose face was out of frame. Aiden’s hair was unruly, face flushed with a blank expression that made Harvard want to reach through the screen and take him in his arms, look after him and tell him everything would be okay. Except Harvard couldn’t do any of that; they were two adults with complex lives, and bigger obstacles than passing exams and sneaking out after lights out without getting caught.

But, oh, how Harvard wished he could.

The longing for a simpler time and the tight feeling in his chest jolted him back to reality, back to logic. He clicked off the tabloid page and opened his emails.

Dear Exton Enterprises, Harvard typed. I would like to accept your offer…

He felt his fingers stick to each key he clicked, tacky from perspiration.

He felt void of anything else as he pressed the Send button, then closed the tablet.

***

“Mum, Dad, I have something to tell you.”

The words poured out of Harvard’s mouth like a flood, tasted like water. His parents were silent, still for a second or two, then Harvard’s father had put his arms around him, and so had his mother, and Harvard started crying, tasting salt, and all of a sudden it seemed everyone was crying.

Eventually, the fall of tears ceased, and Harvard’s parents congratulated their son and told him how proud of him they were. Their small but tight, lovingly-knit family unit went out for dinner to a restaurant where a waiter in a bow tie uncorked a bottle of champagne with a pop.

Harvard searched inside for a sense of accomplishment, happiness, anything. He found a satisfaction for a job well done, and anticipation for more work that was to be done. He tried his best to enjoy the moment, not to be consumed by the looming feeling of preemptive homesickness.

***

He was at a bar with his friends, Kally and Tanner. They were celebrating. Harvard was having a good time - the glass of wine in his hand was rich and dry and ice cold. Tanner had picked the place - Kally had sighed, but said it was up to Harvard, and Harvard had said why not, they were celebrating and having fun. There was a jazz band playing soft, swinging tunes, and the lighting - strings of fairy lights and old-fashioned lamps strewn around the place - was just dim and warm enough to create a relaxed atmosphere. Harvard was having a good time.

“Let’s dance,” Tanner suggested, pulling Kally up by the arm. “I think Harvard owes us some moves for the drinks.” With “moves”, he raised and wiggled an eyebrow suggestively.

Harvard groaned at the gesture. “Oh no, Tanner, no, I’m not dancing.”

Kally let out a cackle at his response, while Tanner pressed further. “Is this the kind of thanks a man gets for spending his hard-earned credits on his friends?”

“Where were the hard-earned credits when I was buying the round before that? And on all of the nights out before?” Harvard teased.

“I was unemployed,” Tanner huffed, “as you know. Stars forbid a man isn’t a slave to capitalism.” Then, sighing, turned around for support. “Kally?”

Kally, still smiling in amusement, very much enjoying watching the whole ordeal, gestured that his hands were tied, then picked up his drink and sipped it.

Harvard continued to bicker back and forth with Tanner, no malice in either of them. It felt so good, to be with his friends again, surrounded by familiar faces and voices with no secret intentions. It was as though they were high-schoolers once more; call it cliché, but Harvard missed those halcyon days, when possibility felt infinite and the future was outstretched like an open palm, or the galaxy they could see from the dorm windows. A memory struck Harvard: limbs entangled, bodies pressed close together in the nook of one of those windows, a pleasant warmth and pressure rushing through his core. Aiden’s head leaning on Harvard’s shoulder; his hair, lovely and flowing like honey, tickling Harvard’s neck, but he didn’t mind because it was Aiden, his best friend; passing a stolen bottle of sparkling wine back and forth and giggling… and then the moment of realisation, when everything stopped cold.

Harvard tried to shove the thought out of his head - it was the antithesis of everything this night was meant to represent - with no success.

Nothing about the night had literally changed; the wine was just as effervescent and tart, Aiden’s body just as warm and alive and present, the stars they were gazing at just as brilliant and sublime, but Harvard had felt as though the blood coursing through his veins had turned to ice water.

First, denial, then the melancholy of acceptance, a grim tension settling in his chest. Once he’d said it to himself, in his head - never aloud - he couldn’t take it back. I’m in love with Aiden. I’m in love with my best friend.

It was fine, really, he’d rationalised; there was no reason anything had to change. Sure, he had feelings for his best friend, but he could see that it was inappropriate to act upon them, given how Aiden was, well, Aiden, and Harvard had fumbled through dates and dances with girls for years before finally figuring out that he liked men. He’d fervently believed - or tried to believe - that everything could remain as it was, and that they would both be happy.

The night was growing long and late, and Harvard tipsier, and he thought he caught a glimpse of golden hair, glistening like burnt caramel.

The head attached to the hair turned, and they made eye contact.

Peridot irises. A familiar mouth, set in a straight line where a smirk was no stranger. A slim hand brushing a section of hair that had fallen over his face, tucking it behind his ear.

Aiden stood up, and started to make his way over to the table Harvard and his friends were at, slow and meandering.

Harvard felt his heart rise to his throat, thrashing and thumping, thunderous. He bit his lip.

“Hey, Aiden,” he said, somehow managing to get the words out with his hitching breath. “Long time no see.”

Notes:

yes, emails exist in this futuristic sci-fi world 😔😔 perhaps also linkedin... i've spent far too much time on linkedin recently and i HATE it ‼️

no beta we die like harvard's peace of mind after realising he's in love with aiden, so please let me know if you spot any spelling/grammar/punctuation errors!

thank you for reading <3 comments and kudos appreciated as always