Ask Nothing Gold Can Stay

Emerald eyes widened at the other man in both surprise and amusement as he strung together far more words than he'd expected to get in response. Hannibal had honestly expected some kind of look or maybe even nothing at all but instead he got.. were those insults or just opinions? It was hard to tell.

All the say Hannibal began to laugh that barking laugh of his, doubling partly over from the hilarity of it all. The stoic boatman had a lot of opinions about the young Jedi and they were all phrased in a way he could appreciate. Hannibal often had a sharp tongue himself but getting such commentary from the stoic and broad-shouldered boat maker he'd come across just made it even funnier.

"Haha! Damn straight I'm a space scout! Chose to do some good with the gifts I've got in the same way they helped me." He moved to drink from his glass but, of course, it was empty. Hannibal tutted and watched the other man take a drink of his own from the bottle he'd summoned to his hand, standing up from the table and walking right on the over.

"My sincerest apologies, would you prefer the upper-class clip of nobles? Buff Bubbles the Boatman has fancy taste." Not that Emryc could see it but maybe the big grin no Hannibal's face was visible. "Still can't sing though, not my wheelhouse. But beautiful? Should've asked to see when I wasn't wearing pants. Let that live in your head rent free."

His hand reached out to retrieve the bottle of gin and take a swig of his own before passing it back over.

"You mentioned other villagers, yeah, and I'll get to them. After I retrieve the drawing."

Emryc’s thoughts were already wandering back to the walk back to his hut again. He knew he would have a tough time managing both Force Sight and efforts to keep himself dry through the storm. He would have to be soaked the entire way back. Emryc set the glass down at last, taking another swig from the bottle.

His ears twitched just the slightest bit at the man’s loud laugh, still not used to the sound. Emryc could hear him plodding over and could tell the man stood directly across from him. There was literally nothing graceful about this man. Emryc felt the bottle get yanked from his grasp and he could make out the outline of the man drinking. To his surprise, the bottle was returned back to him.

Emryc took another swig, gaze vacantly off center while he looked in his direction. The half grin was back on his face at the man’s words, “Seeing your lips, imagining them around certain things and you shutting up where I don’t have to hear that accent already took up all the real estate.”

He took another swig, eyebrows furrowing again at the thought of the man following him back for a drawing. Naturally, Emryc took this entirely literally and he couldn’t process why the man wanted to make the hike just for a stupid drawing. Of course. It was a drawing of himself and he was entirely full of himself.

“Yeah? Going to make some poor old lady wait to cross the roads because you want your drawing first?” Emryc took a larger swig this time.

@Mr. Teatime

There was that grin back in place, joining the banter that returned in light of his own. This was much more Hannibal's usual element and a welcome distraction from the reasons he'd elected to wander off to nowhere in the first place. The expression was matched with one on the Jedi's face and a tone of both playful amusement and general enjoyment.

"Oh yeah? Feel free to imagine some specialized equipment instead, I prefer to keep my lips available." The boatman took another swig and Hannibal reached over to grab the bottle again and take another of his own, keeping it more or less fair considering the difference in build, then held it out for the other man to take back.

"If there's an old lady under threat from traffic on the way but I'll give her a hand, natch, but somehow I doubt there's much danger of that here," Hannibal replied with good humour. "'Sides, I'd get to watch your shirtless, strapping self walk all the way back."

He looked down at the bottle, able to feel the buzz in his head steadily intensifying. Literally none of this had been planned or even thought of before hand, but how could he have planned ahead to find this buff, blind, bronze-skinned, boat-building skyscraper of a pointy-eared man in a random village? Seriously, what even was today?

"Sharing a drink with a fascinating stranger is one of life's true delights, my grandfather would say. He'd also suggest tea but kriff that, gin's where it's at."

@Sreeya

Emryc took the bottle back and took another swig before handing it back. The man liked to talk. A lot. There were so many words that Emryc was being swept by a tidal wave away from the shores of desire. Even blind, he felt his eyes almost glazing over. His mind had anchored onto the specialized equipment and barely registered much beyond that. Being drunk also made this a bit difficult.

One of his free hands almost reached out to hook a finger around the man’s beltloop to tug him closer, but he paused abruptly as the man finished speaking. Emryc withdrew the hand and stood still for a moment, taking the bottle and finishing it off before shoving it back into the man’s chest.

“Bringing your grandfather into this is my cue to leave, you tedious monk,” He said, his speech carrying the slightest hint of a slur. Emryc moved forth to walk right past the man, but his Force use was less than ideal. Force Sight was blurring things and he instead collided with the man as he attempted to stride past him.

@Mr. Teatime

Hannibal, of course, didn't really notice the apparent disconnect from the other man from the onslaught of words nor the hand reaching out toward him. He really only started paying proper attention again when the emptied bottle was delivered back to him, brows raising. They'd done quite a lot of drinking. Huh.

"See, knew it," he spoke unsteadily, "Y'think we're some kind of fu- oof." Hannibal was swiftly interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the boatman's entire thick self crashing into him just as he'd stepped forward at the same time to do some chest-jabbing for emphasis. That'd show him.

Instead they collided in the middle somewhere and being as Hannibal had less mass he stumbled, dropping the bottle and trying to grab onto the nearest surface for balance. Unfortunately at the moment this was one of Mr. Boatman's arms, dragging the muscular man with him as he fell backwards toward the nearby side wall of the ship, a small figurine of Preef Callo falling from its stand to the carpeted floor.

"Draw!" shouted the toy into the carpet, followed by a bit of a famous gunslinger's dueling theme.

"The kriff are you made of, lead? That'd explain some shit," Hannibal slurred, vaguely reference his inability to read the other man's feelings.

Emryc often forgot his own size, and a simple attempt at walking past the man resulted in a huge collision. The other man grasped at his arm for some reason and it sent them both sailing and slamming against a wall. Emryc grunted slightly, struggling to stay on his feet. His sharp ears picked up a mechanized voice and a theme, and he recognized it as Preef Callo.

He had his face buried into the man’s shoulder from the collapse, “Preeeef Callooo the greatest gunslinger of them allll-” Emryc sang quietly against the man’s shoulder, mostly on key and slightly slurred. It was a song that was popularized by the comics, but only diehard fans would know about it.

Emryc forgot about the man for a moment, thinking about all his comics and how he’d never be able to read them again. The singing slowly stopped and he instead punched the wall behind the man, grumbling incoherently to himself as he finally emerged from the warm skin his face had been buried against.

“Not all of you,” He slurred as he retorted back to what the man had begun to say before the collision, “Just you.”

@Mr. Teatime

Holy hell this man was heavy. Hannibal could feel himself being pressed against the wall by the boatman's weight, dazed from the sudden movement and trying to blink away the blurriness that followed. Not only was the larger man now leaning on him he was singing along to to the song from the fallen toy he didn't actually recognize otherwise, itself a thing Hannibal couldn't even see from all the muscle and beard in his face.

Despite the situation, or probably because of that, he just couldn't help a strained chuckle at just how ridiculous this whole scene was. The punch, however, made him jump a little. No sense of danger and, of course, barely any impression of feeling from the other man. There was also a grumpy grumbling going, brows furrowed in both annoyance and concentration as the boatman emerged from his shoulder, faces barely inches apart.

"Jackass," was his exceptionally well thought out reply. Good one, Hannibal. Lightning flashed outside the window near them, thunder cracking through the air along with it while rain heavily pelted against the transparisteel panes. He seemed to remember where his hand was on the other man's arm and moved it instead to casually lay against an impressively broad shoulder. It patted appreciatively against the well-used muscle.

"Sssoo," he slurred, "You gonna wander back through the storm or check out the pools upstairs first?" Hannibal blinked, grinning.

Emryc’s world was plunged into total darkness as he stopped using Force Sight briefly. He could sense where the man was, mere inches away. He smelled the expensive gin in his breath and he could almost vividly picture the almost cocky grin on his face.

He pulled back slightly from the other man, quirking an eyebrow. He looked as if he were running some very complex calculations in his head. Emryc opened and closed his mouth a few times, his hand still pressed into the wall near the man’s head. He felt the man’s touch move from his arm to slide over to his shoulder.

And still the mental gymnastics continued. The other man would be able to tell the subtle displays on Emryc's face that suggested that cogs were spinning and working very hard under the fog of alcohol, “...Are you coming onto me?” He blurted out after a long time after his grand epiphany.

Emryc said nothing else before he pressed off the wall and attempted to use Force Sight. He walked towards the stairs, knowing the blueprint of the ship simply from being a nerd about it.

“Only if you have nice alcohol up there too,” He hadn’t navigated stairs in a very long time. He almost tripped a few times, Force Sight absolutely worthless while drunk. It took him an exceptionally long time to get up the stairs, but he would sooner launch himself over the railing than ask the man for assistance.

@Mr. Teatime

Pine and herb scent of gin on the air mixed oddly well with hints of sweat and river water accented by flowers and grass. Hannibal had a good amount of time to take in these kinds of details in the period where the boatman was going through what must be an incredibly complicated process of calculation somewhere in his head. Emerald eyes traced down his chest along the lines of the scars over the skin and the way his thick beard was so well kept despite his blindness, the same as everything in his hut and his general appearance.

Last was silver eyes on a face stuck deep in concentration. Hannibal blinked a couple times when the question came, making a face of utter bewilderment.

"Uhh. Yeah, dude. You're hot." The young Jedi got himself off the wall and stumbled a bit on his way, snatching a bottle of something green off the bar as he passed by toward the stairs. Hannibal kept himself near the wall up the stairs since he didn't exactly have a free hand to catch himself without dropping yet another bottle.

The steady ascension of the boatman was almost funny all by itself if only because of the stoic way he seemed to handle it. Hannibal might have offered help if he thought he could do it without sending them into a much less interesting tumble. He swore the lack of an arm threw off the balance of his swagger.

Once they got up, however, he tried to get in front even if he stumbled a little.

"Lotta stuffff in here," he warned, navigating in the middle of armour stands and gear racks on the way to the meditation pool.

"Mroww?" asked a cat from somewhere off to their left. "Be nice, we have a guest."

Emryc barely took a step when he heard the meow. This was followed by a series of sneezes from him. It was immediately clear that being in the presence of a cat did not bode well for the half Sephi and he hoped simply walking away from its proximity would spare him.

“Trying to kill me?” He said gruffly as he kept walking before he pointed menacingly, “That thing...better stay away from me,” He grumbled as he scowled. Emryc wiped off his nose as he attempted to navigate past the various obstacles in his way. Of course, he still had to learn to understand his own size and his shoulder slammed into several displays and stands of armor. Sensitive ears twitched as things crashed to the floor. This was followed by expletives as he leaned down to put everything back together. Drunk and blind didn't mean that Emryc's neat freak habits suddenly went away. He knocked over several other things and took the time to readjust it every time.

If Emryc had eyes, he would have stopped to appreciate the sets of armor he casually toppled on his way over to the pool. It was a credit to his application of Sight that he didn’t simply keep walking and unceremoniously fall in. He stopped at the edge and shrugged off his pants before stepping in. Emryc gravitated towards the jets at once, feeling them against his muscles. He tilted his head back as he softly muttered, “Kriff...I forgot what luxury felt like.”

He remained like that for a moment before he tilted his head back towards where the man was approaching, "Let me see you, you stupid hillbilly."

@Mr. Teatime

Hannibal was suddenly distracted from his focus on walking ironically straight when he heard the sneezing behind him. He turned around and determined through his slowed thoughts that Mr. Boatman was allergic to cats as well as flowers. The hell was he doing in a rural village, training to overcome his allergies?

"Mow," retorted the cat before bounding away to some other fixture of the room, then again when the broad boat maker started to run into things and knock them over. Hannibal watched the other man's cycle of disaster and reparation with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, not sure which was winning out over his face.

"Mr. Caaatt'll keep to himself," Hannibal said thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Probably."

He didn't really have the time to stumble back and help pick things up again before the other man had it handled each time, so instead he just poked at the meditation pool console to get it started. By the third time Hannibal couldn't help a snicker and it was near enough he helped pull the display back up into place, particularly a shard of burnt metal from what had once been a lightsaber that he was abundantly careful with.

The pool was going by the time they entered what they were actually up here for. Hannibal put the bottle down by its side and navigated himself out of his belt and other clothes while the boatman casually kicked his pants off, openly looking at him because why not. He slipped into the water a few seconds later with a contented sigh andetrieved the bottle, unscrewed the top, and took a test swig of the drink within before nudging the boatman with it in offer.

"Tch. Sure thing, jackass." Hannibal foggily wondered how well he could actually do that at the moment, brows furrowing. He eventually decided it sounded like a challenge and shrugged, closing his eyes and reaching out again. "Uhh, hold on."

A blurred image of the young Jedi and the area around him would start to form slowly in the void. Steadily it gained some semblance of picture focus but lacked the extra-fine detail of the last time. It helped it he wasn't moving but what didn't help was that he was drunk and it took concentration to get this kind of thing started.

Emryc ignored the words from the man. His accent got progressively more annoying the drunker he was. The half Sephi’s head tilted slightly as the man began to use the Force to project himself. Emryc had to actively bring his walls down again to allow it. The combined efforts of both men as they were drunk resulted in a low quality, slightly blurred image.

“Stop trying to refine the stupid tattoos, I don’t care about them,” Emryc grumbled, entirely unamused at the man working to make each pattern vibrant and exact. As a result, everything blurred by the time he got to near his abdomen and below. Emryc shook his head and tilted his head back again, pressing himself against the jets.

“You are kriffing worthless,” He said with an exhale at the ceiling. Despite that, he was thoroughly relaxed. He could hear the sound of rain against the ship from here along with the soft gurgle of the jets and bubbles. Emryc felt exhaustion weigh on him, but he quickly snapped himself back to reality.

Emryc heard a bottle being opened, but he could sense the man was too far to pass him the drink. The half Sephi lazily coiled the Force around the man and tugged him much closer without moving a muscle. Once he was close, Emryc gingerly plucked the bottle from his hand and took a swig.

@Mr. Teatime

Hannibal tutted irritably both at the other man's words and the difficulty in correctly rendering himself but at some point he had to admit, well, fair enough. The tattoos probably weren't the point of why the boatman had actually asked to see him while they were both naked in a jet meditation pool together after a bout of drunken flirting/arguing.

If anything the worthless comment just made Hannibal try harder out of what could very well possibly just be sheer spite and/or stubbornness, letting the tattoos slip away and instead forming something more similar to the picture the other man had sketched together in his hut. The scars were more vaguely there and instead the shapes and lines of the rest of all the rest of him were fairly clear.

Any further refinement was prevented by the distraction of being pulled across the pool.

"Eh-?" His projection blurred a little as he moved just as before, only the water directly around him really "visible" in the collection of black void and outlines the muscular boatman could pick up. Hannibal opened his eyes as he was moved and his brows furrowed in irritation, although he still handed off the bottle.

"Well aren't you forward," he slurred a bit, settling himself back down by some jets closer by. Hannibal reached over to pluck the bottle from bronzed fingers after the swig and took one of his own and then, quite breezily, the Force coiled around the boatman to pull him closer. Really it only amounted to a foot or two of movement and some splashing water, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Also, it isn't myyyy fault your mind's all locked up to hell, is it? 'Least you can see something. Uh, right?"

Emryc felt himself get tugged in, a faint grin gracing his face. The half Sephi was close enough to almost feel the body heat from the other man. Force Sight gave him outlines, but his photographic memory kicked in to fill in all the details. The half Sephi paused briefly when the man accused him of being forward.

“Uhh. Yeah, dude. You’re hot,” He said with a completely perfect imitation of the man’s terrible accent. It sounded that much funnier with the smooth baritone of Emryc’s normal voice. He knew he was facing the man directly. The silvers didn’t lock into emeralds as they normally would, but they were just as fiery.

Emryc leaned in till his hands pressed into the edge of the pool on either side of the man, powerful arms trapping him between them. He was close to the other man’s face, an amused grin on his face. He anchored to the complaint about his mind fortress.

“Why? What’re you hoping to find from digging around in my head?”

@Mr. Teatime

The impression of Hannibal's voice got a good laugh out of the young man, the sound cutting off just as suddenly. Drunk beardsly seemed to be more reactive and willing to banter than the sober version from earlier and Hannibal was having quite a bit of fun with the situation. That or he'd found the right buttons to push. He took another drink from the bottle in his hand.

"Are you coming on to me?" he asked in a deeper and bemused tone before chuckling to himself in a way that completely broke the illusion. His impression wasn't as good as the boatman's but at least the casual accent vanished for all of three seconds.

Buffy the Boatmaker closed in the last bit of distance and cornered Hannibal up against the side of the pool. The Jedi's grin lit up widely with a mischievous and playful energy. The hand that held the bottle came up to very casually nudge the other man's jaw sideways a bit so it was more of a proper locked eyes situation. Emeralds looked into the adjusted position of the silvers with almost renewed clarity for a solid second before he responded.

The position of one of his legs changed to very intentionally brush against skin below the water's surface.

"Don't need to read your mind to know what you're thinkin, Buffy."

Hannibal gently lay the bottle's mouth helpfully against the boatman's, seeing as his arms were occupied forming an enticing little box.

Emryc heard his own words turned around with his own manner of speech. While the man couldn’t get his voice quite as baritone as the half Sephi, the gesture nonetheless resulted in an entertained grin. He felt his face adjusted slightly, and he knew what the man was doing. Silvers burned intensely into emeralds for that brief moment. His eyebrows worked with his eyes to get across his trademark smoldering look that often cut through layers others often had. Emryc was unaware of this, having given up on speaking with his eyes.

He felt the man shift and his leg brush against him, the gesture resulting in a soft exhale. Emryc didn’t move away from it, pressing into it as he felt the bottle against his mouth. He didn’t sip from it, but he instead pressed against the man with the Force. This would cause him to tilt back slightly against the pool edge behind him, possibly causing him to gaze up towards the ceiling.

The bottle haphazardly floated from his grip and tilted slightly so the alcohol poured in a very thin trail down the man’s chest. Emryc leaned forth and didn’t hesitate before he pressed his mouth in between the man’s chest and worked his way up to taste the liquor and clean him off.

“What am I thinking?” He murmured against the man’s skin as he arrived near his collarbone, bold and unapologetic with everything he did.

@Mr. Teatime

Now there was that look again, the very same one Buffy had given Hannibal the first time he'd been able to see him and actually tell where he was through the connection beneath the tree. Almost as a reflex the young Jedi returned the look with a fiery grin, those strange lights behind emerald eyes glimmering, but of course the other man couldn't actually see them. He strongly suspected the boatman would have had to frequently replace the stick he used to ward off suitors if he looked at people like that more often, although based on the people in the village he didn't really need the extra oomph to get people going.

Probably had a fan club or something.

A brow raised as Buffy pressed even further forward, an expression of the Force nudging Hannibal backwards and took the bottle from his fingers. He moved under its touch, back pressed into the edge of the pool to curve it, body bared beneath the other man. Hannibal's face was upturned but he couldn't help a curious glance downwards as the bottle's tipping slipped free a stream of chilled green drink to travel down his chest, inhaling at the sudden contrast in temperature.

Now it was his turn to exhale as heat trailed up along the lines of scars and colourful tattoos to steal the green that dyed overtop them. His grin widened as hot breath whispered along his skin along with the man's murmured question, his now freed shamelessly feeling up the build and bronzed muscles before sliding before the surface of the water to find what his leg was wedged up against. He pulled the other man forward and re-straightened his spine with an effort of will, his lips ending up next to a pointed ear.

"Well now you're gonna wonder what this'd feel like if we both felt the same sensations," he impishly slurred to put forward the idea into Buffy's head. Technically it was meant as a trick to reduce a patient's pain, but with some more creative usage...

Emryc still had the taste of the green alcohol on his lips and he was firmly pressed against the warm, damp skin. He could visualize exactly what patterns he was against, vividly recalling them from the projections earlier. He exhaled again as the man replaced leg with hand, the simple gesture sending jolts through him not just from the action but from how bold the man was.

“Kriff,” He stated simply, smiling against the man’s skin but too hidden for him to see. Emryc felt himself get tugged closer, a shift of power dynamics erupting between them. The half Sephi wasn’t used to this kind of battle, his jaw tightening the slightest bit.

He heard the man’s words against his ear, knowing fully well how powerful the Jedi and his tricks were. Emryc’s mind was blurring, lost in the sensations he felt and the warmth of the other man. Through the haze, he recalled the vivid memories from years past.

He thought of the day when the man flashed him that cocky grin. When Emryc had been much smaller and thinner than him. When he couldn’t hide his desire for the other man. That knowing grin the man had as Emryc found excuses to meet his gaze. It all came flooding back to him right then, vivid and clear as day as he had the smaller framed man between his arms.

His hand moved from behind the man to slide up his back and firmly grasp fistfuls of his hair. His grip was tight and almost painful, “Are you sure about that?” Emryc all but growled as he tugged the man’s head back away from his ear.

He would have gazed at him then. He would have wanted to see his eyes, wanted to know. But all he saw were his memories. All he saw was the smug grin. All he saw was his own burning desire for the man back then and now. What he had wanted to do then long before he had ever met the others. Emryc said nothing else before he tugged the man’s head in and claimed his lips.

@Mr. Teatime

Hannibal was pretty sure that wasn't the first time he'd heard the boatman swear about something but getting that response out of him from the Jedi's attentions was almost gratifying in and of itself. A audible sound that signaled the beginning of a power struggle between the two stubborn and determined individuals, a clash of wills set there in the bubbling, swirling pool of the Councilor's ship.

He felt the effects of his touch as the boatman was pulled in, but he could not perceive the flashes of memory or emotion that Buffy ran through in his own head and it was both strange and almost exhilarating in it's foreignness. Hannibal was unaware of who this man really was beyond what he'd seen and heard, but he did know he was handsome and strong.

The latter point was reinforced when fingers traveled up his lightning and blaster scarred back to grip his black hair, pulling him away from the other man's ear, silver eyes unable to catch the impish and defiant grin. Hannibal was not as physically powerful as the larger man but neither was he a simple conquest. His hand beneath the water grasped quite a bit more firmly against Buffy in reply, the two men engaged in a kind of intimate grappling.

Emeralds stared at silvers that didn't really look back, took in the lines of his face and the way wet hair and beard fell about his face.

"Not in the slightest."

Without warning Hannibal was pulled in, lips meeting meeting fiercely against the other man's. A surge of strength pushed him forward, legs pressing him forward into the other man to shove him back through the water and off the edge of the pool to the sound of wildly splashing water. Above he tasted the other man, gin and green drink prominent, nibbling and twirling. Below his attention continued with a direct and earnest energy, going on the offensive just as the boatman had.

Kissing the man was far better than he had imagined. Emryc was lost in the taste of him, sensing a fiery defiance even in the way the man’s mouth worked against his own. Emryc’s hand liberated itself from the man’s hair, sliding down instead the side of his face to brush past the ear and down along the perfect angles of his face. Touching and feeling gave shape and picture in his mind, reminding Emryc just how beautiful he was.

He felt the other man tighten his grip, the gesture causing him to exhale a shuddered breath into his mouth. Emryc was next pushed back as the man rose from where he was, pressing the half Sephi back towards the opposite edge of the pool.

The man managed to move him back two steps before Emryc simply held fast. The larger man squared up and became an immobile wall, causing the other man to basically fall into his arms as they kissed, their bodies pressing firmly together. Emryc’s other hand wrapped around and traveled down the man’s back, tracing along the scars he felt there. He hadn’t seen that side of him in the projections, so this was discovered entirely by touch. Emryc didn’t stop his travels, moving down to the small of his back and below, feeling every bit of the man as he pleased.

The half Sephi pulled back from the kiss to briefly grin at the man, leaving them at an impasse in the middle of the pool as he refused to budge.

“If I recall correctly,” Emryc murmured softly as he gripped the other man and pulled him close. His other hand had traveled down to lazily rest against the man’s waist, “There is a large, extravagant private suit just a level below,” He had many things he wanted to taste and explore without getting water involved.

@Mr. Teatime