Ask Across The Universe

[Emryc Thorne]

While Emryc never liked seeing Morgan upset, this time it was largely over nothing according to him. He stared blankly at the Firrerreo for a moment, genuinely confused at why Morgan refused to believe that he was unbothered by the injuries. He watched Morgan fiddle with his hair, the disheveled look almost comical for the usually poised and regal prince.

The yellow had faded from his eyes by now, Raze gone entirely. Emryc met Morgan’s gaze when he looked up. His eyes widened when tears began to travel down his face. Emryc could tell he was struggling to speak and he couldn’t help but question his words. However, he also recalled when Morgan had shown up on Bothawui and when he read the Preef comics. The man didn’t have a track record of lying. Emryc trusted that and felt his hand place over Morgan’s chest. When Morgan leaned in to kiss him, Emryc pulled him closer with his other arm, unafraid to kiss him just as passionately as normal. Morgan would taste the copper as he had, the wounds still fresh.

Emryc smiled at Morgan when he professed his love, meeting the second kiss tenderly, but still not as feathery as the Firrerreo intended. When he stepped back, Emryc casually wiped the blood off his lips without a second thought. The graze of Morgan’s tongue against his neck caught his attention again. The thought of binding him every time from here on out began to stir familiar desires within him again.

“Careful or I may want to go again,” He grinned at Morgan, knowing fully well he would be the one to suffer for it if they did. That certainly didn’t stop him from snaking an arm around Morgan’s waist and pulling him close so their chests were pressed together, “I can never have enough of you,” He murmured as his hand began to travel down Morgan’s back and further down to grab flesh that was still tinged red. It took every fiber of his being to remind himself that they needed time to recover. He reluctantly let go after a moment, Morgan able to see the entire internal debate play out quite amusingly on Emryc’s face, ending with a grumpy scowl as he stepped back.

“Any good takeout places here? I don’t want to be that guy and ask you to make me a meal after I just….,” Emryc cleared his throat as he walked off to dig through his bag for packed clothes to change into.

 

[Darth Stolas]

That copper taste on Emryc's lips was joined by his own. Although Morgan was healing, it wasn't exactly an instantaneous process, and he would need to eat soon as a result anyway. It was a vital survival trait on Firrerre but it had its cost in dietary requirements. Morgan's pupils were already beginning to narrow into slits as his body recovered, a holdover from before established civilization and hunting was required immediately afterward.

But for now the touch of Emryc's lips distracted him, and he had time. He was far from starving at the moment. The passion he put into it despite his injury was encouraging and enticing, but they definitely needed a break first. Morgan licked his lips just before he was pulled in by his waist, that familiar purr suddenly rumbling through his chest and into the other man. It intensified under his soldier boy's attentions and the little spike of soreness that resulted ran up his spine like the heat of rolling coals.

"I will never tire of your touch," he answered softly back, silken fingers running over Emryc's muscular sides. "Have as much of me as you desire. But later, cheri." Morgan broke into a smile and a musical laugh, then cleared his throat a little. He rubbed against the very distinct markings there a moment, going through different shades as they faded.

Emryc's face went through quite a few micro-expressions before settling on something grumpy, and it brought the Firrerreo joy just as much as every other proof of how much he was treasured. Emryc really wanted him, despite the general state he was in being worthy to an average person's trip to a hospital. It was both impressive and gratifying, and it almost tempted Morgan into trying something. But not just yet.

The prince turned to find some clothes and caught what his soldier boy said, turning around despite the way it made a few joints protest the sudden movement, and gave him a bemused look. "Ask anyway. I am cooking," he declared, and that was the end of that line of thinking.

Morgan slipped upstairs, wiped off some more blood and things from his person, and changed himself into a pair of high-waisted shorts and what had been a black T-shirt that just said "Emryc Thorne" with his campaign slogan below it. The unmarked bits had been chopped off to make it yet another crop-top instead and Emryc's name had a little red heart next to it.

He stretched gingerly, popping partly-healed joints that were stiff from the process, and made his way back downstairs toward the kitchen area. A variety of ingredients were taken out of the fridge and placed atop the counter, as well as a bag of meat snacks that immediately began working on the stave off the grumpiness that was working its way into his movements.

Chopping began in earnest atop a well used wooden board, first slicing some fruits into thin wedges to be arranged on a plate. Morgan placed the knife down and picked up the plate to bring over to Emryc as a snack while he waited, and gave him his most brilliant and affectionate smile.

"My soldier boy will not settle for takeout while he is with me."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc glanced over to look at Morgan leaving, shamefully watching the graceful Firrerreo that always appeared to glide instead of walk. He walked into the nearest refresher, taking in sight of the extent of his injuries for the first time. Any normal person would be in a medical bay for all this. Pain had set in, but he knew how to channel and focus through it. Perhaps this was all penitence for willingly allowing himself to sin and stray from the path. He gazed into the mirror for a while, wondering who it was that stared back at him. Was it Emryc? Was it Raze? Was it someone else?

He tore himself away to clean up, mainly just blood, before he stepped out to find clothing to wear. Emryc changed into some casual gym shorts, and he didn’t bother putting on a top. It was how he usually hung around on his ship. He was inspecting a bandage when he heard Morgan coming back down. Emryc stared at the choice of attire for a moment. His face went from the usual impassive to his eyes widening as he saw that Morgan was wearing one of his campaign shirts. And then Morgan was witness to something that perhaps no one else alive in the galaxy had, or would ever, see.

Emryc Thorne’s cheeks were tinged pink.

He couldn’t whip around fast enough, suddenly occupying himself with cleaning up the mess in the living room. He picked up different pieces of the couch, mainly relying on the Force to move things around. Emryc’s face was hidden from view, but he looked suddenly furious. All of that fury was directed at his own inability to control what was going on with his face, “Where did you get that ridiculous shirt…” He mumbled out feebly.

Emryc turned to look again only when he was sure the heat from his face was gone. Thoroughly irritated at his juvenile displays, he made his way over towards the kitchen. Morgan slid a plate over towards him and he popped a wedge of fruit into his mouth, silver eyes still staring at his own name emblazoned on Morgan’s shirt. He quickly glanced up again, watching the Firrerreo expertly chop everything.

“Uh… can I do anything?” He asked, the tone of his voice clearly suggesting that he was not at all comfortable with his own offer.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan, in the middle of moving from the stairs to the kitchen, found himself staring right back at Emryc. There was no way he was going to miss the sudden change in expression. But that wasn't what he was staring at, not even a little bit. Before the other man had whipped around to do something else, Morgan was very sure he'd just seen his soldier boy blush.

The prince actually forgot to stop staring for an extra second or two, then blinked. His own expression had completely frozen from shock, but now it was somewhere between bewilderment and lovestruck. It shifted more toward the latter after Emryc spoke and he looked down at himself, golden heat rising up through his neck and shoulders to delicately paint his cheeks.

He wanted to see more of that look. So much more. He was never ever getting rid of this shirt.

"Donated to your campaign. I like it this way," he answered, then broke into a fit of soft but joyous laughter. "You make Tatooine look good, cheri."

Morgan pouted at him for a moment when he took the plate, sad to see the pink he'd painted go, but it was quickly replaced by that same bright smile. He got back to prep work, now joined by what had become the normal jatz-y humming. His head turned partly in Emryc's direction when he asked about doing anything, continuing to look at what he was doing but giving his attention.

"You may eat my food," he stated matter-of-factly, then took a moment to roll his shoulders and check on his muscles and joints, a good habit for members of his kind who had recently been injured. In a smooth motion the knife was used as a scoop to place the chopped vegetables into a glass bowl before the blade was placed down. Morgan slowly turned to the face Emryc, leaning slightly on the counter. Golden eyes looked over his face, alight with affection and something a little awkward.

"I am, uh..." Morgan cleared his throat politely, eyes briefly looking away into space before settling back on those silvers he liked so much, heat suffusing what felt like his entire body. "Very proud to have you. With me. Together." Very smooth. He blinked and turned back to his chopping.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc stared at Morgan for a moment as he admitted to donating to his campaign. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with Morgan having to fund his efforts. He knew the man likely had an obscene amount of wealth, though he never really flaunted it around him. Emryc shifted slightly, running a hand through his hair, “You don’t have to donate,” He said quietly, a faint grin appearing at the mention of Tatooine, “That’s quite a feat, then. Tatooine is damn near impossible to make look good.”

He was privately relieved that Morgan didn’t assign him any tasks for cooking. His experience involved ordering at restaurants and making MREs. Morgan’s humming filled the air, and life felt as if it had returned to normal again. That humming and the gentle laughs were sounds that often lingered with him long after they had to part ways, and they were things he missed the most.

He watched Morgan chop things for a bit, thinking about how often he had to wine and dine with diplomats. His terribly bland preferences were simply not going to cut it. Emryc grimaced as he thought about his next words, “Hey can you uh… teach me how to eat more like you?” It sounded like a stupid request, “None of that sauce or anything,” That was going to always be a hell no, “A lot of the Outer Rim diplomats always want me to try their local cuisine and..” He trailed off, not needing to explain how often it ended with him puking his guts out.

Emryc caught Morgan’s gaze as he leaned in towards the counter. He could tell the look of affection in him easily now, the goldens staring at him with the inviting warmth of the twin suns right before dusk. What caught him off guard was Morgan struggling with his words. The man wasn’t known to fumble over words and Emryc assumed he had something urgent to say. When he finally spoke, the half Sephi stared for a moment, entirely missing the meaning. He tilted his head slightly, curiosity in his face.

“Proud?” He queried, staring at him, “I uh… too am glad to be here with you,” Emryc looked around them, “We’ve been talking about this visit for a long time,” He had taken Morgan’s words entirely literally.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

"Of course I don't," Morgan answered simply. He owed Emryc and his campaign nothing, just as he'd owed him no answers in the cafe on Terminus. "I did it because I wanted to." The prince hadn't even tried to skirt around the limits of a civilian donation, only donating what a single ordinary person was allowed. To do so would have been disrespectful to his soldier boy and all the hard work he did, and that was simply unacceptable.

Morgan just wanted support the man he loved where he could, and he wasn't shy about it in the least. Thus the modified shirt.

In the middle of his task he realized something about being in the kitchen today felt different. He always hummed while he worked, but it was much more cheerful than usual. The scents of Emryc joined the rest, and his presence was nearby, so that must have been it. Everything just felt more safe and at home while the half-Sephi was here, and the thought brought a soft smile to Morgan's face.

"Like me?" he asked rhetorically, looking mildly bemused. Emryc went on to explain, a little awkwardly, but Morgan understood what he meant. His taste in food was, well... Military. Nothing like the rich sauces and exotic ingredients of people across the Outer Rim. Not to mention the farther away from human a people was, the more unusual their cuisine tended to be, and Emryc had to be polite at about it at minimum. Doubtless his standard stoicism was tested each and every time.

"Yes." The prince looked particularly pleased, since this also meant he could introduce him to more Firrerreo-aligned foods, though he doubted Emryc would ever really enjoy the kind of heat some of their dishes were known for. For the moment he settled on including a kind of mushroom and pulled an extra couple bottles of seasoning from a cabinet.

Golden eyes kept themselves firmly on what Morgan and his knife were doing, expression some mix of sheepish and annoyed. It rapidly transitioned between a series of others, though the young man was clearly frustrated by his ability to find the words he wanted. "Proud, yes. I-" he cut himself and his face settled on profoundly irritated, though not a single ounce of it was directed at Emryc.

The blade moved the thinly sliced mushrooms to another small bowl and was put aside itself. Morgan stared for a moment at the wall, glanced for a moment over at Emryc and back again. He considered saying something in the Firrerreo trade language he often spoke in, but quickly decided that's not what he wanted. Morgan wanted to seen and understood by Emryc more than anyone else in the galaxy. His choice was already made.

Not that it made saying how he felt aloud any easier.

"I- uh, mwe-?" Morgan sighed deeply and then was very still and absolutely silent for at least ten full seconds.

When he spoke again, his face was set in utmost determination.

"I miss you when you're gone, and I think of you often. My favourite thing to wear is the smile you give me, and my name on your lips is the sweetest sound. Your arms around me feel stronger and safer than any fortress in the galaxy." Eyes that burned and glimmered in equal measure turned to look at silvers.

"You have my trust, respect, and all of my love. So..." Morgan's face lit up in a brilliant smile, though still a little unsure. This was unfamiliar territory for the both of them. The prince still didn't hesitate, even as his face blushed bright. Golden eyes never looked away.

"I am very proud to have you as my companion, and that I am yours. Together."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc sat across the counter, helping himself to slices of fruit while Morgan worked. He watched him pull out a mushroom and several spices. He eyed the spices warily, attempting to read the labels from where he sat and also to see if any of them were red in color. He almost missed Morgan fumbling over his words initially, his gaze fixated on the methodical way he chopped and sliced. He made cooking look like an art form and it was mesmerizing to behold.

Silvers shifted up to observe the variety of expressions that came and went from the normally poised prince. He could tell he was getting frustrated and Emryc found himself quietly confused. Had he said something to upset the Firrerreo? No, if he had done that, Morgan would have been looking at him and letting him know quite clearly. Emryc gave him the space to sort through his head, focusing on the fruits and quietly nibbling on them.

A long moment of silence passed, but Emryc’s demeanor remained casual. He could exist in scenarios with distress without contributing to them. He looked down at his plate, finishing a slice of fruit before wiping his fingers on a napkin. Emryc glanced up again only when Morgan began to speak. Goldens stared back at him this time, emotions clearly rising to surface.

The words brought a smile to Emryc, causing elation that he couldn’t keep from softening his gaze. He gazed back with affection woven into the frostiness like rivers of lava cut through dead earth. Emryc heard Morgan hesitate again before he finished.

Emryc stewed on the words for a moment, face pensive as he watched Morgan’s face flush. He felt a streak of fear course through him that was unexpected, and he was reminded of times where he had been vulnerable. Emryc’s face went back to being impassive as he withdrew slightly into his mind. However, he knew he loved the other man, and he wouldn’t shy away from this.

“What...what does that mean to you?” What did it mean to Emryc? He really wanted to ask what it meant for them, but that sounded far too terrifying. He ran his fingers through his hair, a habit of his that almost exclusively happened around Morgan. It was when he was nervous or unsure about a situation, which was a rarity for the half Sephi.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan closely watched Emryc's face, disheartened momentarily when it slipped into stoicism. Then the other man spoke and the prince's head tilted a little to the left, examining his expression from a slightly different angle. His expression turned deeply pensive although the blush seemed to refuse to fade entirely and it was still coloured by flashes of other thoughts and feelings.

His feet took him forward almost on their own closer to his soldier boy, stopping within a half arm's length. What it meant to him was complicated, or at least it felt that way, and explaining it was well outside Morgan's area of expertise. But he'd already started, and for some reason it felt more important than he'd initially thought.

"Well," he began slowly, as if feeling out how the words felt across his tongue before setting them free. "It means I want to be only yours." Morgan thought this sounded familiar. "And you, only mine." It felt close to what he wanted but not correct. His brows furrowed again with frustration and he stayed that way for several more second, thinking quietly to himself.

Morgan knew there was a word for what he wanted, but it was heavy in his chest and wouldn't come out. None of his training or education or personal experience covered this, and he highly doubted Emryc's had either. It made him afraid, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the only reason he had any ability to speak at all was because he truly loved this man standing before him.

Eventually he raised his left hand toward Emryc and turned back to look toward him, blush reasserting itself on his face.

"It means I want to be your kon-" he paused to correct himself, a spike of anxiety running down his spine.

"Your boyfriend. If you'll have me."

Morgan very suddenly found the pile of debris that used to be the couch very interesting, and wondered if his face was actually going to ignite.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

It was a good thing that Emryc wasn’t eating right then or he would have begun to choke immediately to completely ruin the moment. His eyes were wide as Morgan flatly laid out what he wanted from him. He felt a sense of panic beginning to set in, and his fingers curled on the counter. Emryc looked away, a flurry of thoughts spiraling through his mind. This was fundamentally against the path he had been walking for as long as he could remember.

He recalled all those times when he had anything important to him taken away. He had already crossed past boundaries with Morgan. He already allowed the Firrerreo into his heart, into a place that had been guarded by countless sheets of ice. The man managed to sing, smile, laugh and pierce his way right through it all, setting a trail of inferno to make every layer melt and collapse. It left Emryc stripped of everything he knew and it made him question his religion. The religion that demanded devotion to Morgan’s very ancestors.

Emryc recalled history, he thought of the failings of Darth Vader and the redemption he weakly sought in the end. It had been for his humanity, the same humanity that tugged at him now. Silence hung for a long moment as Emryc thought before he slowly glanced up at Morgan. His face was difficult to read, but Morgan was perceptive enough to pick up the fear in his eyes.

Though he feared it, he considered Morgan independently of his own thoughts. Was it truly a parallel to the failings he had seen elsewhere? Before him stood a devastating man in his own right. Morgan had shown himself beyond capable time and time again both on and off the battlefield. He was clever enough to get out of any scenario and he had the blood of generations of royalty in him.

Morgan would not be a burden to him, like Emryc had seen in other situations. No, Morgan was a partner. Morgan was his equal. Morgan was someone he could be cautious of and respect even if he didn’t know and love the man. He was his own man, and he stuck to his own principles. He existed in his own sphere without needing to put everything on Emryc. Emryc never had to change for him. For the first time in his life, something he desired did not force him to make difficult choices. He could pick and choose what he wanted to shed and keep. Morgan had seen his flaws, his darkness, his vulnerabilities and he loved him through it all.

Emryc thought instead of others in his life that constantly looked to him for validation, constantly needed something from him, constantly needed him to lead and guide them. Morgan had never asked for it, never cared for it, and the two men could have a mutual understanding of one another’s ambitions. This was a dance where they both led and followed, just as they had on Sullust. He was the only partner that could do that. It had always been him. Before him stood a man Emryc could see for the prince he was. For the Emperor he could become.

The half Sephi said nothing that entire time, keeping his gaze fixed on Morgan. He moved from where he was, walking towards the Firrerreo then. His gaze burned with intensity, the silvers suddenly far more piercing. His torso was still bare and Morgan would feel the heat from his body as he came to stand close to him. Emryc met his eyes for a long moment, considering the words.

A hand came up to cup the side of his face, tracing along his warm skin. He leaned in to kiss him tenderly, a twinge of pain ensuing from the puncture wounds. He drew back from the kiss after a moment, but he didn’t pull away entirely. He pressed his forehead against Morgan's, his eyes still closed as he murmured the words just barely above a whisper, “Mwen damou w’.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan stared steadfastly toward the couch, quite unusually stiff despite his attempts not to be. This resulted in an equally awkward situation for some time where neither of the two men was looking at the other, instead gazing off to the side in different directions. The silence was deafening, cut through by the thumping heartbeat that Morgan couldn't tell was his or Emryc's.

His eyes eventually slowly turned back to look at the other man, golds gazing into silvers, and each would recognize the fear reflected in the other. The nature of Morgan's people was not to be vulnerable, the teachings of the Drast and the Sith were the same. Emryc was no true weakness, a more than capable man and far from a burden. He was a powerful and noteworthy Sith and incredibly smart, and Morgan had no small measure of respect for what he did.

But opening allowing his deeper feelings out was still almost agonizing. The prince had been placed on a pedestal and weighed down by expectations, things he accepted and took pride in but left him alone. The young Sith had inserted himself amongst the other Sith, hiding his lineage and keeping out of spotlight, never quite being seen, left alone. He'd made allies and even what might be called friends, but without really seeing him it still felt the same.

Morgan just wanted to be seen by a single person, if he could. Only one, and that desperate desire was clear across every part of his face. His eyes burned even while his brows were furrowed with anxiety, every muscle in his body tense and waiting for something to be done or said. Of every person he'd ever met Emryc was the one he'd fallen so strongly in love with, and he didn't think it could have been anyone else.

He was a painter, a mastery of colour and perspective that gilded Morgan's skin just the way he liked. He was a soldier, a skilled warrior who was a terror to behold. He was a scholar, learned and hungry for knowledge and understanding. He came from nothing, but had taken that empty vessel and was so much more than just another soldier boy.

If Morgan had been destined to fall in love with another, he thought it must have always been his Emryc.

For a time they just stared at each other in silence, taking in every expression and muscle twitch, every flicker of emotion. Emryc's were so subtle, but Morgan was well used to reading them by now. He knew he just had to wait, and so he did, while Emryc took his time.

A sudden intensity in silver eyes caught him briefly off guard, and he stood stock still as the half-Sephi stepped even closer. The scent of him washed over the prince on a wave of heat, and the familiar warmth and closeness almost habitually eased the tension throughout his body.

Softly a hand came to rest on Morgan's face, right where it belonged, the gentlest motion pulling him toward Emryc with the inexorable gravity of the oldest stars. The tender touch of lips sent shocks of lightning through every nerve and synapse, that simple gesture worth so much more than it could ever seem. Slender fingers moved on their own, coming up to entwine with Emryc's.

Emryc spoke, eyes closed, the words so quiet as to be hardly be a sound at all. Morgan heard nothing else but those three little words.

“Mwen damou w’.”

For a full second or two, Morgan didn't even breath, his lungs seizing up in his chest and his eyes shot wide.

Without warning tears began to fall down his face, streaking down in unrestrained rivulets. A sudden intake of breath signaled his legs weakening beneath him, his unoccupied arm coming up to grasp at Emryc. Despite the tears he found that he was laughing, singing that trilling song of love with every breath he had.

“Mwen damou w’ cheri!” Morgan managed out, closing his eyes to try and stymie the flow of tears. After a moment he flung his arm around his soldier boy's shoulder to kiss him again, refusing to let go of the hand he held in the other. Emryc saw him and understood, just as the Firrerreo had wanted.

Mogan still remembered what it meant for Emryc to have said those words, what he'd said just before their very first goodbye. Although his limbs felt weak his heart and his spirit were unassailably strong, the fire within rushing through his veins, and in that moment he felt as if he could fly.

"I will never let you go," he said after drawing back eventually, voice a deeply affectionate whisper clearly spoken through the powerful purring that reverbated through his chest. "I promise."


@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc knew this was new territory for them, and there was fear in them both. He felt it in the way Morgan tensed, or how his skin flushed. They both had to let their guard down for this more than they’ve ever had to in the past. He thought he could hear Morgan’s heart pounding, or perhaps it was his own. It was difficult to tell at this point. He had said those words and he meant them. He could clearly recall that moment where Morgan had pleaded with him to say the phrase before and he hadn’t understood then. He understood now, and he wouldn’t look back.

He finally drew back just enough to meet Morgan’s gaze, seeing the tears streaming down his face. There was surprise on the Firrerreo’s face to betray that he hadn’t expected Emryc’s response. In truth, Emryc hadn’t expected it either, just like he had given up on knowing what to ever expect when it came to Morgan.

Emryc felt Morgan wrap an arm tightly around him, their other hands locked with the fingers entwined. He returned the kiss gently, forgetting about the pain and focusing instead on the taste of Morgan and those salty tear stained lips. He gazed at Morgan as he drew back and spoke again, resulting in a lazy, almost dazed smile from Emryc.

“Then don’t,” He said simply as he tugged Morgan close. His arm snaked around Morgan’s waist, the other drawing their entwined hands slightly out to the side in a dance pose. Emryc leaned in and buried his face against the crook of Morgan’s neck. He thought of all of those times where Morgan let him know how cherished he was. He thought about those times Morgan sat and watched Huttball with him.

And so he did something to show the same for the man. Emryc began to hum. He hummed the song they had listened to on the bed after they had been intimate for the first time. After they crossed boundaries and stepped into a journey he hoped would never end. As he hummed, he began to slowly sway, moving Morgan gently with him right there in the middle of the kitchen. His voice was melodious, but certainly not as skilled as Morgan’s. It would still entwine with the echoes of Morgan’s music all around them. His passion, his love, the way he cherished the other man all bled into the way he held Morgan and danced slowly.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

That smile of Emryc's sent his prince's heart fluttering anew in his chest, but what happened next did something else far more powerful. If the other man was trying to overwhelm Morgan then it was certainly working.

Hands moved together out to the side and the two of them drew together, pulled into a position the Firrerreo easily recognized. The arm over Emryc's shoulder moved a little so slender fingers could brush affectionately through dark hair, Morgan's head moving aside slightly to allow Emryc where he wanted to be.

A slow, sweet old song filled the air, a common choice for the prince himself to hum while he was doing something. Melodies of the nightingale had been one of the first things Emryc had stated a liking for, and by now Morgan had sung to him many times. Sometimes in person, but other times over the holonet when the two were so tragically apart. But he'd never heard the songs in Emryc's voice, the voice he loved most of all, and the sound of it in his ear made him feel so weak and so strong all at once.

Morgan followed in step, though he wasn't sure his limbs were doing what he wanted them to near the beginning. Almost on his own his voice joined in the song, humming in harmony along with Emryc. He matched the sound and gently swayed in his soldier boy's arms, every note and movement wiping away thoughts of worry and petty fears. They were together, something Morgan had never before thought he would want and cherish so dearly.

Morgan and Emryc were together, and they would never let each other go. They'd promised. Maybe it really was that easy?

Every song he'd heard and sung himself, and this simple gesture outshined them all. Without even trying their duet layered itself atop every other song in the apartment, the only one of its kind among them. It was no grand and haunting melody. Just two people who were deeply in love with one another, who treasured every every aspect and moment. That was all it needed to be.

Soft lips found the warm skin of Emryc's neck and layered feather kisses along it during the dance, silken fingers holding him close as they moved through the kitchen. It was far different from what had been almost a duel in the great halls of Sullust, a back and forth show of skill and finesse and, in hindsight, some level of mutual interest. Morgan decided he liked this slower dance better.

After a while the prince felt some measure of strength return to his limbs and drew back, just a little, to look upon his soldier boy. Golden eyes burned bright as twin suns, and he tilted his head a little as they moved, considering something. His own humming stopped and transitioned back into a throaty purr and his lips parted to speak.

"There will be new brands soon. You may leave yours first, if you want."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc thought he was only doing this for Morgan, but he found himself sinking into the feeling. It was finding the path home after being lost in a fog. It was sliding into a warm, cozy bed when the air was frigid. It was quenching a deep thirst. He knew nothing but that smell of citrus and herbs, Morgan’s warm skin and their voices entwining just as their bodies did. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips against Morgan’s neck. He nuzzled against him as he hummed, not afraid to show his affections for the other man.

His eyes were closed as he swayed from side to side while holding Morgan. His mind went to many places, but it lingered in one. It lingered in the thought that he felt home here. His ship had provided that for him as long as he could remember. And yet he felt it here. And why shouldn’t he? His goddess watched over him here as well. His goddess, who he had given to the man that took a part of Emryc with him. He found that part whenever he was with Morgan, and he found his sanctuary.

Emryc felt his entire body relax, more than it ever did from his meditations. He felt Morgan’s feathery soft kisses, his eyes blinking open as he stopped humming and returned them along the Firrerreo’s neck. He felt Morgan pull away and he gazed down at the man, his own eyes carrying warmth that almost looked out of place from how rare it was.

He heard the words, and his gaze shifted down to Morgan’s arms. Emryc’s hand slid down to grasp his, spinning his wrist so it faced up at him. A thumb traced along his skin, trailing over the veins there. They had talked about this before, and he knew he wanted the same in return. It would be something they would both carry forever. The concept was terrifying to him, but he didn’t want to back away from it.

Emryc glanced up to say something, but he caught Morgan’s eyes. Silver gaze briefly flicked to the bowls behind him and then back to Morgan. Emryc brought up Morgan’s hand to kiss along the wrist before he smiled at him, “Baby...” He began as lovingly as possible, feeling his own face heat slightly at using a term of endearment in light of their new mutual decisions. He wanted to try it out and decided it felt both strange and exhilarating, “You are starving.”

He couldn’t keep a straight face, the smile turning into a small laugh. Morgan’s warm, loving eyes already had the pupils growing into narrow slits. Emryc leaned in to gently kiss him on the cheek before drawing back.

“You have a habit of always wanting to do something profound when you’re moments away from a hunger breakdown,” He observed as he stepped away to grab the bag of meat snacks. He brought it over for Morgan to tide himself over.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan felt his face flush once again. The last time he'd heard a similar term of endearment in Emryc's voice he'd been soaking in pain medication on Naboo, and hearing it now made his light up in just the same way. He laughed softly along with the other man and held his hand out to take the bag of snacks. His lips snuck in to plant a return kiss on his cheek before turning back to the prep work he'd been doing, a gesture that was likely a little more threatening than intended in his hungry state.

"You draw my attention," he answered cheerfully before popping a snack in his mouth and placing the bag by the cutting board. Morgan ducked down to grab a pan from a cupboard and placed it atop the stove, flicking it on to pre-heat while he sliced through some fat-marbled meat.

"I like when you call me that," the prince said softly, glancing for a moment over at his soldier and then back his cutting, reducing the meat into particularly thin slices. A smile seemed to be very firmly stuck on the Firrerreo's face despite his growing hunger, and the humming slipped back into place just like it always did.

The figurine he'd been gifted was a welcome substitute and a peerless gesture of how Emryc felt, but being watched over by the man he loved was far more satisfying in the end. Morgan was very happy he was here and they'd gotten this far in their relationship, and after a little it would become clear the faint gilding over his neck and shoulders would be sticking around too.

"Cheri means something like 'darling'. So you know."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc returned to where he had been sitting across the counter before. His fruits were gone and he felt hunger pangs, but he could wait. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t dip into an animalistic rage when deprived of snacks. Emryc brought out his datapad as he waited, scrolling through his Huttball fantasy league app. His face went through a series of expressions as he noticed one of his players doing absolutely atrociously.

Morgan would be able to tell almost at once what Emryc was doing, a series of expressions often reserved just for Huttball. He glanced up when the Firrerreo spoke, grinning when the topic of terms of endearment came up. Emryc wasn’t in the habit of ever using them, but he didn’t mind so much with Morgan. When Morgan translated his own term for him, an almost sly look came over Emryc.

“I figured,” He said simply, “Evidently you fell in love with me when you first set eyes upon me because you called me that the very first day we met,” There was a knowing grin on his face. Emryc had been out of eyesight when Morgan had whispered the word, but his keen ears had picked it up. He had never mentioned anything about it until now.

He scrolled through a few more things on his datapad as Morgan cooked. The smell was already making his mouth water, but he composed himself. Emryc came across a headline and stared at it for a moment, “They finally discovered Tilla Vin’s remains…” The tone of surprise was hard to keep out of his voice, “Apparently it washed up near a river almost ten miles away from the manor.”


@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

An eyebrow rose a little in an expression of mixed amusement and mild concern as he caught sight of Emryc's face. That borderline thunderous look generally meant something was going poorly that wasn't work, and generally speaking it was a Huttball Face. Morgan knew better than to ask about it and they were at the point where communication was largely nonverbal anyway. It's just the way they were.

Emryc's face and he spoke, and Morgan flashed a fanged grin right back, though he clearly flushed a little all the same. He supposed there was time for a little game.

"Nothing nearly as sweet and heartfelt as naming me Nightingale so quickly, cheri," he said back with twinkling eyes. "Perhaps you fell in love first?" Morgan laughed and tossed some oil into the pan, which was quickly joined by some aromatic herbs and ground bulbs to saute for a while.

Tilla was mentioned and the Firrerreo tilted his head slightly back toward Emryc to listen. He threw the meat into the pan and tossed it a bit before actually half-looking toward him looking fairly bewildered. The two of them had left her corpse behind on her couch with that poor unfortunate soul she'd been with, so how had she ended up in a river? Botched job by the cleaners?

"More trouble to deal with." Morgan sounded more annoyed than anything else by that point, and he ate another snack and returned to cooking at the reminder of his mood. He was silent for a moment.

"I suppose we'll have to go back eventually."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc couldn’t help but grin at the response Morgan shot back right at him. He leaned forward slightly on the counter, amusement dancing in his eyes, “I certainly liked how you looked, babe. And I did wonder what those fangs felt like,” His gaze rested on Morgan’s lips. It had been one of the first things Emryc noticed, one of the first things he had asked about, one of the things that still drove him crazy.

“May not have been love but was certainly something,” He mused aloud as he stared at his nightingale, “Took a bit of willpower to not have you when I was pushing you around on that crate,” That day seemed forever ago now. Emryc glanced down at his datapad again, absentmindedly scrolling through the news. The entire kitchen smelled exquisite, and he hoped Morgan couldn’t hear his stomach growling every now and then.

“Still don’t understand who the hell broke in and…” He had been looking down at the datapad still as he trailed off. He suddenly paused, his eyes widening slightly. He thought about Morgan and everything he had come to learn about the man since. Emryc abruptly jerked his head up to look at the Firerreo, “It was you.”

The shock wore off and he began to laugh, “You kriffing played along, you cheeky little..” His entire face brightened up at the memory, also of his own and how protective he became of the hallikset. Emryc’s face quickly set back to more stoic, realizing he was being childish with his expressions.

His gaze returned to the datapad and there was a moment of silence before he spoke again, “I requested for us to be put in for a mission together… if you’d be willing,” He looked almost sheepish saying it.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

"Well now you know, don't you?" Morgan purred, flashing them one more time. He hoped he'd become used to being called babe quickly because he was fairly certain he was blushing at this point. This was not improved by Emryc's sudden epiphany.

That crate on the Lady Lucy. Embarrassment crossed Morgan's face before he turned around, determinedly not looking in Emryc's direction. He chose instead to add more things to the pan and move them around a bit to look busy.

"Never said it wasn't," he pointed out, then started laughing. It was almost more funny now than an embarrassing failure, an affectionate memory. That time in the cargo had been something of a sign for the young Firrerreo, another piece of the puzzle that became something much more.

"My way can be difficult." He felt no need to elaborate. The two of them had different ways of understanding and wielding the Force, and that was just the way it was. That he said anything at all was something he'd only give to Emryc, especially after everything they'd shown each other already, but he hadn't asked for details.

Morgan fondly recalled finding and bargaining over the audio-disc. The prince's face softened back into a smile, especially when he turned and caught the face Emryc was making over the crate. Morgan's smiled widened. "I would like to listen to Amelie with you again." The last few ingredients were thrown in, filling the kitchen with the smell of cooking vegetables. They wouldn't take long to cook through and then they could eat. Finally.

The prince fixed Emryc with something both deeply affectionate and mildly amused. He appreciated that it was presented as an option, but the two of them were as compatible in a working environment as within a more intimate setting.

"Of course I'm willing. Any details yet?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

“I do know now,” He grinned about the fangs, “I learned you don’t, in fact, bite your own tongue with them. Just mine.”

Emryc was beyond amused at seeing the impacts of his crate realization on Morgan. The man had been flushing different colors ever since he walked through the door, and Emryc couldn’t get enough of it. While Emryc normally allowed space for others to have whatever self collecting moment they needed, he offered Morgan no such reprieve. He stared unabashedly at the Firrerreo as he pretended to be busy or looked away to hide his obvious embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t feel what I do for you if not for your difficult ways,” Emryc said quietly after a moment, his fingers tracing idly near where he had fresh stitches. Morgan was unlike anyone he had met before, and the man had various different sides to him that challenged Emryc in ways to keep him fully engaged. It had all contributed towards the ultimate realization that he loved the man. The thought was still strange and foreign to him, but he couldn’t think of any other word for it.

Emryc heard the sizzle of cooking and the smell was making his mouth water. He glanced down at his datapad again, now watching Huttball replays from a game he missed with the volume low, “Only if you’re naked during it like last time,” He answered quite matter of factly to the Amelie comment. Emryc had his moments here and there with romance, but the man was far more crude and blunt than Morgan. That side was coming out as he opened up more and felt at ease without worrying about being in the presence of a prince.

He glanced up and quirked an eyebrow as Morgan asked about details on the mission, “I figured you’d have the full brief by now, Prince Drast,” He quipped, recalling how Morgan knew all the details beforehand for Bespin. He still wasn’t thrilled about being left in the dark, “I don’t have anything yet,” He admitted, glancing down at one of the replays, “It’ll come to me when- kriffing hit that defender already!” Emryc hissed, slamming a fist down on the counter. He glanced up and blinked, “Uh…” He cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’ll know more soon.”

 

[Darth Stolas]

The prince just laughed softly at the other man's return comment and busied himself with finishing up the food, a small amount of some white mixture added in near the end and mixed in. He could feel silver eyes boring into him from behind and remembered the barely restrained frustration he'd unleashed on an innocent metal box. And a couch. He was working on it.

His head turned slightly back toward Emryc when he spoke softly of his feeling, face instantly softening into a smile. The two Sith were very much themselves most times, one way or another, existing in their space. Surely they had their flaws and difficulties ranging from the mundane to the more mystical, but they loved each other all the same. Now the space they existed in was just more shared than it used to be is all.

"That can be arranged," Morgan answered with full confidence. The young Firrerreo wasn't shy about his appearance and was happy to be looked at that way by Emryc. He still flushed a little at the straightforwardness of it, still not quite used to Emryc with less of a filter, but he certainly couldn't complain.

Morgan switched off the stove and moved two portions of the relatively simple meat and vegetable stir fry to a pair of bowls. If the other man had given him more advance warning he'd have put more effort into meals, but there was plenty of time for that later. For now it was lunch time. The seasoning was heavier than he usually did for his soldier boy but only a little, and the only real heat was in some amount of simple black pepper.

The bowls and silverware were placed in front of Emryc while Morgan retrieved both purified water from a chilled container and a bottle of Corellian brandy, a glass silently offered to the other man. After drinks were settled he sat across from him, though he paused before starting to eat, despite his stomach growling.

He pouted over at Emryc. "It was an Eclipse plan," he muttered grumpily, "That's why." Morgan had a decent network of contacts but they weren't so good as to get ahold of secret Sith Station plans ahead of time. It had just been passed on to the station as a sort of joint operation.

"Sorry." Morgan looked a little upset right up until Emryc interrupted himself to yell about Huttball, which got the Firrerreo laughing all over again. The mission could wait until the half-Sephi got more details.

"I love you, Emryc," he purred affectionately and then turned to his food, beginning to eat. He really was starving, and he'd need energy for further boyfriend activities. And moving a replacement couch into the apartment.

@Sreeya