Ask Across The Universe

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc heard most of what Morgan attempted to say, and he especially enjoyed the sounds that came with it. Making the regal prince lose control was quite possibly one of Emryc’s favorite things to do. He was unapologetic and shameless in his actions, but all of them conveyed just how desired and cherished Morgan was. Emryc wasn’t the best with words, but his actions relayed all his poetic prose for him. It came through with the way he paid attention to every little detail, the way he reacted and adjusted to each movement and sound from Morgan, the way he focused entirely on the other man.

Morgan’s trilling voice sang out his name a few more times before a final time, and Emryc took his time even then. He pulled back after a long moment, tracing lazy kisses along his thighs before he glanced up at him, “Quite the tale you sang for me, nightingale,” He said simply as he wiped his mouth and moved up towards Morgan. His hands were placed on either side of him on the bed again as he grinned down at the Firrerreo.

“I’m proud of you for not ruining my hair,” He said before he leaned down to kiss him, taking a moment to sink in against the man. He pulled away only to bury his face against his neck, “I almost have everything I value in the galaxy right here,” Emryc said quietly with a satisfied tone.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan surrendered to the rush, limbs stiff and then still save for a subtle shaking. His breath came quick, halted, then slowed to something deeper and distinctly satisfied. He blinked up at the ceiling, golden eyes turning downward to watch Emryc lay his lips, loving and languid, across the land he'd claimed. A lazy smile found itself over Morgan's features, and the other man's words brought a low laugh and breathless reply.

"Only for you."

Emryc moved farther up and over Morgan and the young Firrerreo unclenched his fingers from where they'd been self-bound, lithe arms coming around to embrace the man he loved. The kiss still smoldered, but in a comfortable and familiar way, one hand hand coming up to comb affectionately through the half-Sephi's hair. "If only I could say the sa-" he stopped, blinking as Emryc spoke again. The words rang in his ears for a few seconds, but in that time the prince's grip tightened possessively around his soldier boy.

His face lit up and he turned to press more kisses wherever he could reach, laughing again with joy. Morgan knew the gravity of that phrase, and he was beyond happy to have heard it out loud. When he finally spoke it was slow and deliberate, but still full of confidence and he did not hesitate.

"I did not think I would find this." Slender fingers pet over Emryc's hair as he spoke, a gentle purr running through Morgan's chest. "The greatest treasure you are, Emryc Thorne. I know you will cherish me as I cherish you, and I am beyond proud to be yours," he cooed in a whisper next to half-Sephi's ear, perhaps encouraged by their very recent activities. He didn't often gush over him, but especially after the day they were having he thought Emryc deserved a little pampering and unhindered love. Even if it was a little sappy.

"How accustomed to high grav are you now?" he asked after another moment, a slight pensiveness colouring his cheerful expression. He'd sent a message related to high gravity conditioning to Emryc at some point, and he'd had a reason for it. Both the main Drast households that Morgan frequented were on heavy worlds.

Morgan sat there a little while and just held him, feeling across his body, the hand around his back slipping down and between the two of them. The prince ran his fingers over hip bones and then further down, knowing his soldier boy had only been focused on him this time. He teased purposefully as he spoke, soft and sweet.

"Your turn, soldier boy."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc paused when Morgan spoke. He emerged from the crook of his neck to glance down at the prince with an eyebrow raised after his rather poetic declaration, “Did you come up with that yourself?” He asked with a teasing grin, amusement in his eyes though they lacked the usual frost that accompanied them. The half Sephi wasn’t known for using pretty words when his feelings were involved, but at least Morgan could articulate things better.

He rolled his eyes at the question about high grav as he sighed and rolled off Morgan grumpily, “For the last time, baby, I’ve trained enough. I’ll survive on your planet without dying immediately,” He grumbled with a tone. It had been one of the only times Morgan ever pressed him about something, but Emryc knew it was to allow him to visit his homeworld.

Emryc’s attention was drawn away from that when Morgan’s hand went exploring again. The moodiness left at once, and he looked back at the Firrerreo, “You won’t make me tell you a story, will you? Because I was a complete bastard for that and would rather not go through it myself,” He said bluntly without an ounce of shame.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

His only real reply to Emryc's question was a simple nod and a bright and cheeky smile. If he'd had more time perhaps he could compose some kind of sonnet, but he didn't feel now was the moment for song writing or poetry.

The other man's grumpy response to to his question resulted in a small pout that melted away the moment Morgan was called 'baby' again, though he still looked to be in thought for several seconds. His head turned to follow the other man, face settling on something mildly apologetic. The Firrerreo didn't often repeat questions or even really pry, but he just wanted to be very, very sure. There was a reason people didn't commonly visit Firrerre.

With a small exertion he rolled himself over to follow and slipped atop, straddling over his solder boy's legs with great care to avoid laying on any injuries. A mischievous glint shone behind golden eyes and he grinned, but then slowly shook his head and dropped further down. He kissed near a particularly nasty cut, woven with stitches, and began to do the same for every one of those marks that he could reach from where he was.

"Not today," he answered with some amusement before dipping lower and running his studded tongue over the lines of a hip bone, allowing his fangs the barest touch along the skin. Golden eyes looked up at Emryc as he moved further down, his pace intensifying a little. He repeated the action just below the navel and then drew his head back and down, gaze never leaving the other man's face. Slender fingers hooked and pulled to move aside what stood in his way as he paid his homage, then his spare moved to the side to again coil itself in sheets just in case.

"Would you like to visit my family home?" he asked, then immediately bowed his head to give Emryc something extra to think about.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc watched as Morgan fluidly moved over to straddle his legs. Though his body initially tensed, he noticed Morgan took great care to avoid the injuries. He felt the tender kisses near his worst injuries, sending a whole new kind of rush through him with pain and pleasure admixed into one.

While Morgan had done this before, Emryc was still barely getting used to the studs. His body betrayed him before he could stop it, moving and shifting in anticipation. Silver eyes gazed down to drink in everything the man did, the icy pools melted away by passion. His hand traveled down to run through Morgan’s hair, brushing over where it was disheveled. Emryc watched the beautiful prince and savored his every touch until he asked a question. Emryc said nothing initially as Morgan bowed his head.

Emryc’s gaze shifted then, moving up to the ceiling as he couldn’t help but give a soft chuckle. His fingers curled into Morgan’s hair as he stared above him. A part of him thought not to answer at all as was his nature in almost every other scenario. Emryc’s tranquil thoughts were challenged and interrupted with everything Morgan did, a soft exhale escaping him that was entirely involuntary. He knew he would have to play this game.

“Yes,” He stated as a half groan, initially misunderstanding the question to mean his planet as he was caught up with..things. Morgan also never specified it had to be anything beyond a yes or no answer. Emryc gazed back down at Morgan, watching the prince for a moment as his mind ran wild. Somewhere along there his thoughts raced a bit too far to reality and his eyes widened slightly.

“Family home? Will I be meeting your family?” He blurted out awkwardly, potentially ruining the moment. The sliver of concern was impossible to keep off his face. The prospect was borderline terrifying. The shift in focus was slowly becoming apparent in his body as well.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan quickly found he was having quite a lot of fun with this. The studs added a new and interesting layer to what he was doing and every soft sound, every physical reaction of one kind or another. A breath escaped Emryc and it only encouraged the Firrerreo to continue on with more fervor, the fingers in his hair a comfortable sense of surrendered control.

As did Emryc's initial answer, which pleased his prince and resulted in low maneuver to show his appreciation. He had to resist the urge to hook his hands around the other man's thighs since they were injured, but he made do with the bed for the moment instead.

He came back up and resurfaced, brows furrowing a little at the change in tone when Emryc next spoke. Morgan literally dragged himself up and away from what he'd been doing, a pout plastered on his face as the panic manifested in other areas. His head tilted slightly to the side and he resumed planting kisses in whatever areas he felt like.

"Eventually," he answered softly from where he was before running his tongue across a muscular thigh and further beyond. Gold eyes looked up again, face resting gently across the targets of his affection. From that vantage point he just looked at Emryc for a few seconds. A hand came off the sheets to find one of Emryc's and delicately entwine their fingers, a soft smile quite in contrast to the activities they were up to spreading across Morgan's face. It was tinged mildly with worry.

Morgan came up from what he was doing, though his hand kept hold of Emryc in an attempt to rile him back up, and he looked directly into his favourite pair of silver eyes. His skin was still flushed, though his face was also set somewhat in determination.

"They would want to meet you, and I would like to introduce you." He blinked, blushing further gold. The concept of introducing him to his family was awkward for him as well, that much was quite clear on his face. "As my boyfriend. Because I love you."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was suddenly very silent, and while that was normal for him, Morgan would recognize it right away. He had withdrawn into his mind and was rapidly trying to find the sanctuary he often ran to. The silvers began to frost over involuntarily without Emryc having any say. Though Morgan entwined their fingers, he drew his hand away. Emryc rose to sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The abrupt movement opened up one of his stitched wounds, but he paid it no heed.

“They will never accept someone like me, Morgan,” He said with his usual flat tone of voice as he gazed at the wall in front of him, “You and I both know that,” Emryc turned to look at Morgan, having studied the ways of Drasts enough, “Don’t pretend for one second they will accept anything short of a wife to bear you many children and pass on the bloodline. Don’t pretend for one second that they would welcome a man into your life like that.”

Emryc looked away again, exhaling slowly as he often did when he was angry. His fingers curled into the sheets. Passing the bloodline was valued by Drasts above all, and he doubted it was any different for the Kravos line. The half Sephi was making many assumptions and sweeping judgments about Morgan’s family, his knowledge derived from ancient text books and written history. But he knew there were certain truths that passed for generations.

“And I am not of noble birth,” He added feebly, looking down at the ground. His name carried no weight, “It’s one thing for you to accept that, but it’s another to expect the same from your family. I don't wish to be presented in front of them as your plaything, nor am I willing to let you disgrace your house on my account."

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The prince looked hurt the moment Emryc drew his hand away, worried as golden eyes watched silvers frost over. A sense of anxiety ran itself through his chest as the other man moved to the side of the bed, but he still didn't look away. He felt regret for having mentioned it, his poor timing for things like this apparently coming out again, but it would have to come up eventually anyway.

Morgan listened in silence, adjusting himself into a seated position where he'd been. He wanted badly to reach out and hold Emryc, but that wasn't something he would ever force on him. It wasn't the time, though he did scoot a little closer. Just in case.

The Firrerreo watched his face when he turned. He'd taken in the way he breathed, how he moved, what muscles tensed where and why, but even then watching his eyes still usually gave things away the clearest. Emryc was upset and angry and conflicted, things that rarely came through in his voice. Morgan's face reflected the weight of what he said, but he let his soldier boy finish before he said anything, even when he felt the urge to protest. This was important and he'd already made his choice.

My family isn't-" he paused and took a breath, initial tone angrier than he'd intended. It wasn't for Emryc, obvious by the way he looked away mid-sentence. "Entirely that way. It's, um..." Frankly this was far more into this subject than Morgan had been prepared to speak aloud, especially in the middle of a more intimate moment, but that did seem to be the trend with the two men.

"You are not my plaything."

His eyes turned back to Emryc after a moment, expression determined and eyes sharp, though still coloured with that bright and sunny affection. "You are Darth Raze, a Sith Lord of notable skill and accomplishment." Morgan moved himself to the edge of the bed, near Emryc but without making direct contact, and turned toward him.

"Emryc Thorne, a self made man who pulled himself from nothing. Your name is known across the galaxy. Not every, uh-" He stumbled over his words for a moment and looked distinctly annoyed by it, trying to avoid certain words out of embarrassment more than anything. "Not every person who joins our family is some noble." Other nobles actually got turned down fairly often if they didn't have other personal traits to bring to the table. Morgan remembered the brief and unsuccessful attempts at courting back home, both times by nobility.

"It, it's more about the person's strengths and, um," he stumbled again, losing his cool over the sheer amount of worry creeping in. His mind was going to dark places, and he just wanted so desperately for Emryc to understand. Morgan's throat tightened, but he kept speaking through it and didn't look away. "There've been politicians before, and there's ways around the children, um, thing, and," Was he breathing faster than normal? He felt light headed and he leaned back a little where he sat, using a spare hand for balance. "You would not disgrace my family."

Morgan fell silent for a few seconds while he tried to gather himself and breath properly. He met with questionable success on both fronts, fingers tightening against the bedsheets.

"There- There may be, um, difficulty. But I chose you. " A hand slipped closer, just beside Emryc's. Morgan wanted so much to take it, but just as before he wouldn't force that on him even now.

"What you are is enough," he insisted stubbornly. His eyes turned to look down at where their two hands were so close together, both grasping cloth. Goldens began to mist over as he stared, unable to look away from their fingers.

"Do you not want me that way?"

The sound of his voice then was so fragile, Morgan wasn't even sure if Emryc had heard him before the tears started to fall.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc could feel the tension from Morgan, and it bothered him. It was the only time someone else’s discomfort could impact how he felt. He wanted to turn and pull Morgan in close, but his gaze remained fixed ahead. Morgan knew that look - it was no different from the look he had on him when he punched the wall repeatedly. It was a dangerous look, but it was also his unique way of displaying hurt.

He didn’t make any moves towards Morgan as the Firrerreo listed out his accomplishments and how things would be different. He pointed to other examples and exceptions, but Emryc hardly heard any of it, though the reference to joining the family gave him pause. He brushed it off as a simple example. The half Sephi was always a straight shooter, and he arrived directly at the point every time. Morgan had his winding paths where Emryc had direct roads from point a to b.

Emryc’s jaw tightened slightly before he rose to stand. He used the Force to draw his pants to himself, slipping them back on. He finally turned to regard Morgan, silvers almost as frosty as the first day they met. Morgan’s last question had cut him deep, and it only made him withdraw even more. Emryc’s reaction to being pained was to put up more walls instead of reaching out to reassure or engage. He didn’t function like normal humans in that regard. He switched to defensive tactics, stepping back into his fortress where it didn't hurt as much.

“What does you choosing me mean?” He asked firmly, a sharp jab cutting into his chest from seeing the tears in Morgan's eyes, “And what way are you expecting me to want you?”

Emryc’s eyes narrowed slightly as he forced himself to continue looking at Morgan despite how much it tormented him, “I’ve told you that I love you. Is that not enough? What are you seeking from me?”

The questions were genuine, and it was abundantly clear that Emryc hadn’t pieced everything together in that way. He may have made leaps and bounds in all this, but he was still the methodical soldier that had been molded for the pursuit of perfection. Perfection which rejected human weaknesses.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan was quiet, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from his face. Golden eyes looked up at Emryc, watching him re-dress himself, took in the details. They looked at the drops on his hand and softened slightly before turning back to those icy, frosted silvers. The prince was panicking and, in the process, had missed a vital detail he wouldn't normally, one he'd seen before.

Emryc might as well have been crying, too.

The Firrerreo's panic threw him into bad habits, trying to explain something without explaining it. It was unhelpful here, and he couldn't help remembering the time back on the Lady Lucy. Silver eyes had turned to him and gone right through the mask he'd worn and the words he wove, drawing out more of Morgan than most had ever seen. Emryc had wanted to see, and he'd proven it over and over.

Morgan took a slow and deep breath, seconds long. Fingers closed anxiously around an arm and he closed up the way he sat a little, but he forced himself to look directly into Emryc's eyes. He knew he needed to be straightforward and clear, perhaps now more than before, no matter how hard it was. Maybe it wasn't that easy, but did that really matter if it was worth it?

The Force turned and twirled around him in tiny, twisting spirals, like the tuning of a hallikset, just for a moment before he spoke.

"Like Andraste chose Kravos," he said, the way he felt about Emryc carried in warm, gentle waves on the sound. He'd improved over time, and it was clearer now than it had been before. The thought of the subject still embarrassed and worried him, but it was something that needed saying. The Drasts had their way.

"That you love me is enough." A hand raised and twisted, turned toward a small, cracked wooden figurine that sat beside the bed. It floated gently toward him before landing in his hand, where it was cradled in close as delicately and preciously as the young man's hallikset. "I ask only whatever you are willing to give."

A storm of emotions crossed his face, and he raised the figurine. It was not offered to take, held tightly and carefully in two hands, but to listen. Although Morgan spoke as he sang just then, what sang louder was the song in that ordinary piece of wood. It seemed almost to come to life in his hands.

Morgan hadn't just left it by his bedside, he'd played his songs to it every time he could. Almost a year's worth now, sunken into the diminutive little object. Love, and longing, and all the pride in his heart for Emryc. How he'd missed him every day, how much he looked forward to those stupid holocalls Emryc disliked but tolerated just for him. What it felt like to be held by him, to be held so dearly beneath binding rope and grasping hands. It was all there, just for him.

Golden eyes burned like gilded stars, looking up at the man he loved more than anyone else in the world, and somehow he found the courage to speak. It coloured his whole body and sent heat running through it, but he spoke in defiance of his fears. His gaze was firm, no matter how much he felt the urge to look away. No matter how loud and quick his heart thundered in his chest, he stood his ground.

Morgan wanted Emryc to see his face when he said the words, knowing what it would show him. He smiled at him the very same way he had when he'd first told him he was in love with him. The young Drast spoke just as softly, and with just as much absolute sureness.

"It means I am courting you. But, I am yours in the way you choose."

The figurine of Andraste was placed carefully back down on the bedside table near him, still singing faintly.

"It means I trust you with everything that I am. I love you, Emryc, no matter what."

Morgan raised both hands, halfway between Emryc and himself, palms and wrists facing up.

"May I show you? Please?"

Then his nostrils flared and his eyes shot downwards, profound concern colouring his voice and expression.

"Your leg, cheri."

Blood from where his stitched wound had opened was beginning to soak through the cloth. Morgan moved to stand and retrieve a medkit.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc stared at Morgan as he spoke, eyes narrowing slightly at the reference to Andraste and Kravos. Though Morgan had meant it one way, he fell back into his historical knowledge that also included journals from those that knew them, “And who would be Andraste in that scenario? If you recall, Kravos became nothing more than a weapon for her in the end,” He muttered as he recalled the spirit in the holocron. It had been a wretched shell of a man that had been contorted and warped far from what he once was. He grew to despise the attachment he had for Andraste. Morgan referred to the time before all of that and for something else entirely, but Emryc had a hard time focusing on the good.

Emryc's line of thought was squashed as he looked at the figurine. If anyone else touched it, they would lose a hand. And yet, it looked as if it belonged in Morgan’s hands. For a moment he forgot about what they were discussing, and he focused only on how the man he loved held a piece of him that had been so critical to his life. It came to life more than ever with echoes of Morgan's song and the emotions that wove through it. It was so much more than a simple carving as it always had been. Emryc never once reconsidered his decision to give it to Morgan. As he thought about the topic at hand, he couldn’t help but chew on that thought for a while.

His face was difficult to read as he listened, tearing his gaze finally away from Morgan as he analyzed the situation. Courting? He barely understood his own feelings, and he understood what kind of ‘relationship’ he had with Morgan even less. His only references were whatever he saw on media. His interactions with others rarely went beyond sexual, and Morgan took him to new territory he felt entirely lost in.

Emryc’s face softened when Morgan offered his hands, and he glanced down at the faint branding and patterns that wove down his arms. He exhaled softly as Morgan quickly rose to go get a medkit. A hand jutted out to grasp Morgan’s wrist, making it clear his injuries could wait.

“I’m not good at this, Morgan,” Emryc said after a moment as he turned Morgan to face him, “I was designed to not be good at this. I was designed and trained to steer far from it. I’ll always be many steps behind where you are, and I’ll always need my own way of getting there,” Emryc thought over his words before he spoke them, “I’m just barely coming to terms with whatever we are right now. You have to give me time,” He managed a half grin as he looked at Morgan, “I may stumble my way through it, but I do get it eventually....I think.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Emryc's quiet question troubled the prince. Morgan knew what he felt, and he knew he saw Emryc for so much more than his skills as a soldier or molding as a weapon. As human as they were the Drast family had their flaws, they always had, and even as his family told not everything had a happy ending. He wished he had a better way to explain and at that moment endeavored to find it.

It was clear Emryc was trying hard to put the pieces together, but beyond that it was hard to gauge his expression. Morgan let him process in peace, especially after being distracted by the bleeding and rising to leave.

The sudden hand on his wrist stopped him in his tracks, face turning back to look at the other man. His eyes glanced down at the leg and back up as he was move to face Emryc but he stayed where where he was, just listening.

Some part of him found it almost ironic or funny or, something. Morgan barely knew what he was doing either, raised to expect more noble courting than what they had. His head tilted slightly, watching the shape and movements of Emryc's face while he spoke. The prince's face slipped into a soft smile, affectionate and apologetic. His wrist turned and brought the half-Sephi's hand up to his lips where he kissed it gently.

Morgan knew Emryc tried hard in all this and put up with the Firrerreo's quirks and everything else.

"I understand," he said softly, goldens finding silver again. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to rush things." He glanced down again, not toward the blood, then back up. "Or ruin the moment." Slender fingers moved Emryc's hand further up and Morgan pressed his cheek against it, still looking at him. "You make me smile every day, Emryc. I think that's a good sign."

Then he smiled his sweetest and brightest smile, the one just for him. "Take your time. I am yours, and I'll be here. I promise."

"May I treat your leg?" he asked, then hesitated, looking sheepish. "I'm... Not good at stitches." Firrerreo didn't usually require that sort of thing to heal, so he had very little experience with them. His expression turned thoughtful after few moments. Morgan turned to look at his closet, then down at himself, then up to Emryc once more. A fanged grin spread over his face.

"But I do want to show you I trust you, and make up for this. May I?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc wasn’t sure if he said the right words or managed to make things more confused. For how much finesse he had in the Senate chambers, he was like a fish out of water here. Morgan apologized, and it somehow only made him feel worse, though his face was blank then. However, he did grin when Morgan mentioned that Emryc made him smile.

“A smile always belongs on you,” He said quietly, stroking his thumb against Morgan’s cheek. He was entirely unaware of the affection in his eyes that the Firrerreo would see. He had never seen it in a mirror, and it was a look Morgan witnessed but he did not. A mild flash of concern quickly appeared and disappeared when Morgan spoke of treating his leg.

“Uh… why don’t you just get me the supplies,” Emryc said, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing the kit when Morgan received it. He got to work at once, casually stitching himself up without a second thought. The effort only took moments before he leaned down and bit the thread off. As much as he loved the other man, he had very little faith in his abilities when it came to stitching up wounds.

Emryc finished up and looked over at Morgan, staring for a moment before he spoke, “You have a penchant for digging into profound topics when we..” He grinned a bit, “I’m formally requesting that you kindly shut the hell up the next time you’re down there.”

Morgan was hereby banned from playing any word games like Emryc had done.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan only smiled more brightly, golden eyes taking in the other man's expression and fingers squeezing tighter around the hand on his cheek. He would never tire of the way those beautiful silver eyes looked at him, still a look that sent a flutter through his chest. It so different rom the way he looked at most other things and for a couple seconds he forgot the situation they'd just been in.

A brief purr ran through him, though it faded when he returned to the injury. The young Firrerreo sighed resignedly but immediately gave that up. He'd even admitted he was no good at stitches out loud so he couldn't be upset that Emryc preferred to do it himself. Instead he went off to retrieve the medkit from downstairs and handed it over, though he did stare rather intensely at what Emryc did, absorbing the motions.

Emryc's comment on Morgan's poor timing left his expression a mixture of indignant and apologetic, as if he couldn't decide whether to be upset about it or say he was sorry again. At the request his mouth opened to protest, the hint of a growl escaping, but then closed again. The half-Sephi never spoke to him like that, but probably just spoke to how much Morgan's abysmal timing had annoyed him. It was sort of a good thing he was comfortable enough to be that way but he still felt bad about having caused such trouble at all.

The prince huffed grumpily, then looked up at Emryc from where he sat on the floor and gave him his most powerful set of 'I love you' puppy dog eyes.

"I... Do, yes. I'll be good," he promised with a sigh, nodding his assent. The Firrerreo still looked a little upset with himself for a moment or two as he looked at Emryc's redone stitching, but the look turned thoughtful shortly after a moment. His eyes turned back to Emryc above him, head tilted slightly.

"You may make it so I can't speak next time, if you want," Morgan suggested with a glint in his eye, standing abruptly from the ground and moving around the bed to the storage closet. He pulled it open and his upper half disappeared inside, the sounds of objects being moved around resounding in the wooden space.

Morgan emerged again with small box that he placed on the bedside table, closing the closet door with a hip on his way past, then sat next to Emryc. He leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek, smiling once again. His limbs began to slowly slink around the other man and he kissed him again, and then several more times. The prince didn't want his soldier boy to think he was mad at him, because he wasn't, and he'd practically wrap himself around Emryc if he wasn't stopped somehow.

"Whenever you want while you're here," he said into the crook of Emryc's neck, clearly determined to make up for his supreme error in judgement. Morgan quietly decided to redouble his pampering efforts for the rest of the day, possibly even several of them.

"Would you like to watch something? I have holoflix. And grapes."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc could see the series of emotions that cycled through Morgan’s face and he would never admit it was borderline comical. Someone without his resolve would have cracked a grin and likely had been subsequently destroyed by Morgan. The half Sephi knew Morgan was never used to being spoken to like this, but if they were going to be ‘in a relationship’, then he would have to get used to Emryc’s blunt nature.

Admittedly, he shifted uncomfortably as he looked down at Morgan on the floor. The idea of looking down to a Drast shattered through his principles and he had to fight the urge to immediately pull Morgan up to his feet. However, the way the man looked at him drew out a smile. That look was entirely unfair, and he hoped Morgan wouldn’t pick up that he could always use it to disarm Emryc.

Eyes went wider when he returned with a box, suggesting some very interesting things. Emryc’s gaze flicked over to the box as he stared for a moment, his fingers curling slightly into the sheets. He was distracted by Morgan’s kisses, and he focused his attention on him instead, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He leaned in to kiss him for a moment before drawing back with a grin.

“Scary movie,” He said, “I promised to make up for the last time, remember?” They had been streaming a movie together and Emryc disappeared off camera within twenty minutes because he accidentally fell asleep, leaving Morgan to stare at an arm. He wouldn’t be forgetting the follow up passive aggressive text messages anytime soon.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan was glad to see his soldier boy smile again, and even happier to be surrounded by the warmth of strong arms again. He couldn't help but smile himself at the sensation, returning the kiss with obvious joy. The half-Sephi's irritation was justified of course but Morgan was still happy he wasn't very upset with him.

He also remembered the time Emryc mentioned and hugged him tighter. "You promised," he confirmed quietly. Emryc kept up his streak of meaning what he said and not breaking promises, not counting any schedule changes either of them made for work, but it still made the Firrerreo smile a little wider. He untangled himself and Emryc was rewarded with another kiss and a view of Morgan pulling his shorts back on at a strategic angle before heading downstairs.

The prince returned with a glass bowl of chilled grapes on a tray as promised, and climbed back on the bed. After adjusting the pillows a little he put the tray down in front of him and picked up the controller, navigated to the holoflix program from the game- still displaying a replay of horrible death in the background- and started looking for something different from the last time. He ended up on one about a commercial freighter crew that encountered a mysterious and hostile alien after being diverted from their route. It was simply called 'Xeno'.

"This one?" Morgan asked and turned to look at Emryc, looking notably excited. It was one of his favourites movies and he might get to watch it with his boyfriend! He felt very lucky just then.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc watched as Morgan purposely teased him when putting his pants back on. The look on the half Sephi’s face was priceless as it was caught between a mix of wonder and irritation, resulting in a very perplexed appearance. He said nothing, moodily glaring at where Morgan had stood for a few minutes while the Firrerreo was off getting snacks.

When he was left alone, he took a moment to pick up the Andraste figurine. He gazed at it for a while, running a thumb over the crack in it. His mind went back to when he had gazed upon it as a child, especially after a fellow recruit had been quietly disposed. Those days now felt like centuries ago. Had he come out of it successful? Or was he simply facing a new challenge?

Emryc glanced up when Morgan emerged again, setting the figurine back down. He eased back into the bed, Morgan next to him. The half Sephi nodded in approval of the Holomovie choice, “Lead actress is very hot too,” He remarked appreciatively, recalling a scene many loved where she was in a tank and undies.

This entire concept seemed strange to him, but he didn’t mind it. He could tell Morgan was absolutely thrilled, and that alone put Emryc in a better mood. He glanced over for a few seconds before reading his body language. A moment later, his arm wrapped around Morgan, pulling him close. His gaze trained forward as he bit back a grin, focusing on the movie.

He privately patted himself on the back for remembering this promise and not allowing Morgan to pick a musical. That had been one of the most painful experiences ever.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

A passively curious eye caught Emryc examining the figurine but paid it little other mind. It had been a gift, clearly treasured by the state of it, and he was more than welcome to do whatever he wanted with it. Morgan gave him a knowing look at his comment and nodded in agreement, humming softly. He may not be as physical as Emryc could be with others be he could still appreciate a nice-

But he was suddenly distracted from his train of thought but a familiar arm coiling around him and reeling him in. A short laugh left his lips and Morgan settled in, leaning comfortably against bare skin and scooting nice and close. It'd been just the sort of thing he'd wanted and his soldier boy had picked up on it as usual. A soft purring sound rumbled through him and he hit the start button on the control, put it aside, and then moved the tray-carried bowl of grapes onto his lap.

A hand found Emryc's that had wrapped around him and lightly held it, playing with his fingers and running his thumb over it without really thinking about it. Morgan ate a grape as the movie started with the opening crawl slowly moving across the screen. His other hand came up with a grape delicately held between slender fingers in a shameless attempt to feed it to Emryc. Golden eyes darted to him and back to the screen and he leaned his cheek affectionately against his shoulder, pointedly avoiding a patched bite from earlier.

It gave him a good vantage point to deliver another soft kiss to his muscular pillow, likely the first of many as the movie went on, before the tip of a ship began to enter from the side of the screen. A smile seemed stuck on his face and from the expression on his face and the gilding than ran up his neck and along his shoulders he was very happy to be exactly where he was.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was perfectly content with where he was. He had to actively remind himself to stay awake - the low lighting, Morgan’s warmth, the content purr that came from him that Emryc doubted he even noticed he did sometimes, all of it always threatened to lull him to sleep. Morgan occasionally feeding a grape also kept him awake, though he still found the gesture strange. Emryc put up with a lot of bizarre things for Morgan, but he found he enjoyed almost all of them. Except for musicals. Kriff musicals.

The half Sephi wasn’t as good at multitasking as Morgan. When the kisses came, Emryc was thoroughly distracted. He turned his head to pull Morgan in, capturing his lips up until the opening scenes began. He reluctantly drew back, focusing back on the screen.

They got through the movie with Emryc holding Morgan against himself and enjoying some snacks. However, he knew there was a particular scene coming up. He watched as the crew on the freighter gathered around a man whose stomach was bulging and rippling grotesquely.

As a monster burst out of the man’s chest, Emryc timed it so a pillow on the bed abruptly shot directly at Morgan. He knew it would get a reaction out of the Firrerreo. Emryc couldn’t keep it together to even look at the outcome of his handiwork, turning away to let out the burst of laughter that he couldn’t contain.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan was far from having trouble staying awake, having settled into a sort of routine where he was feeding his boyfriend grapes and adding in another kiss here and there, obviously somewhere north of thrilled by the situation. The Firrerreo curled up closer and closer to the other man over time but not so close as to prevent him from giving him the attention that Morgan felt he very much deserved.

Now Firrerreo had very sharp senses and Morgan's were very well honed. He could hear footsteps and heartbeats, catch the smell of blood from a distance, and so on. The problem here was that all those senses were focused on two things: The details of the movie and Emryc's heartbeat, which he always listened to whenever he got the chance. The half-Sephi using the Force was so low on his priority list by this time point in time it didn't register at all until a particularly puffy pillow came out of nowhere and slapped Morgan in the face.

The sound he made was somewhere between a surprised yelp and a growl muffled through the cloth. Morgan jumped and stiffened in Emryc's grip, the bowl of grapes spilling off his lap. Morgan darted after them and managed to catch the bowl half off the bed, balancing carefully. The prince looked over his shoulder with a sharp expression.

"Emryc!" he said in protest, but couldn't help the smile that joined it from the sound of his boyfriend's laughter. Morgan joined in after a moment as he pulled himself back onto the bed, putting the bowl down on the bedside table. The prince took up the pillow and swung it relatively lightly to bop his soldier boy on the head with it as revenge, his trilling laugh dragged out by the other man's own.

@Sreeya