Ask Cloud Nine

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan felt very tired as he sat there on the floor by the edge of the bed with tears dripping down his face, but even so he tried to keep his eyes on Emryc. He'd wrapped his arms around himself and drawn in close by the time the other man turned around to look, the cold of the ship sinking in. Why couldn't he have at least put on pants before doing all of this?

The fire was still there in his eyes, but tinged even with something else. The young Drast was afraid of how Emryc would react to all this, things he had kept hidden for so long. Even after his outburst on the other freighter the music box was a deeply personal thing of his, akin to Emryc's figurines. It was very precious and held meaning he hadn't even thought to share with anyone else, and it was also solid proof of his bloodline and his intentions. Only a Drast could have that box.

Morgan watched Emryc's face through his tears, trying as usual to catch every little movement, the look in his eyes, the muscles of his face. He worried over what it might settle on, but the burning in his eyes distracted him and he rose a hand to wipe them away so he could see properly.

His arm froze in place as the other man spoke a single word, dropping quickly to catch his expression. It was always something new with Emryc, and now it was that sad little smile. Morgan blinked, and then Emryc was pulling him in. The Firrerreo opened back up again, not hesitating for a second to wrap his arms around the man he'd come to love. He sank in with a short, faltering laugh and kissed Emryc with just as much furious passion, eyes closed in a vain attempt to stop crying.

Bare skin gently pressed into the floor, the scents of burnt fabric, old incense and blood, cologne, and everything that made up Emryc hitting him once again. The tinkling song ticked away in the background as his arms closed around the other man, entwining as close as they could possibly be. In that moment he felt somehow freer and lighter, just a young man in love with another.

His heart soared and fluttered in his chest as something in the way Emryc kissed him felt different. Morgan's fingers dragged across the scars left by the whip almost like he was counting them, leaving the warmth of his touch on each and every mark he could reach. He gave himself to the half-Sephi's passions along with his own, not holding back, the fire flickering back to life beneath the surface. Eventually, however, there was a problem.

The floor was cold and it was incredibly uncomfortable against the heat of his skin. But he was also kissing Emryc and didn't feel terribly inclined to stop, so he just tried to sit back up instead while so intimately entangled.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc had many things to work through, many things to revisit, many things to fight past. Seeing the picture had shaken him to the core, and he had to question many of his beliefs. However, for now he was entirely focused on the taste of Morgan’s lips and the heat of his body. Morgan didn’t hold back either, returning the kiss with fervor as his fingers brushed along the scars on his back.

Having grown up on a space station, Emryc was entirely used to and unbothered by the chill of a ship. He felt Morgan shift beneath him and he paused for a moment, drawing back from the kiss to stare at the man as he pushed back up. It wasn’t till he felt goosebumps along his skin that Emryc realized the problem. He glanced at Morgan and couldn’t help but grin in spite of the rather intense and heavy moment they were having. He had to roll his eyes at this, but he took it in stride.

Emryc’s hands traveled down Morgan’s sides while the man had his arms around Emryc still. The half Sephi hooked his hands beneath Morgan’s thighs, shifting his own legs and rising to stand while carrying the lighter man up without much effort. He kept Morgan pressed close, an amused grin on his face the entire time.

He laid back on the bed then, pulling in Morgan to straddle his abdomen. Emryc’s hands slid along to rest against his thighs, the grin widening.

“You are such a prince.”

Emryc liked Morgan here. He simply stared at the man from where he was, taking in sight of the slightly disheveled hair - which he never got to see otherwise. Even now, the man carried an elegance about him that was a testament to his lineage. Even now he sat perched like royalty upon his throne, like he belonged there. And why not? He sat atop his domain after all. The thought wasn't shared aloud but brought another smile. Emryc said nothing else, simply admiring the tapestry that was Morgan’s body with all the imprints of a dynasty displayed. A dynasty forged with love and loyalty.

His hands traveled up along his thighs and up his hips as fingers traced along the markings on his stomach and up. He liked the way his body rippled and reacted to his touch, and he liked the feel of the goosebumps that rose along his skin as he trailed against the surface. Emryc’s gaze trailed where his touch did, but they rose up to meet his golden eyes.

“You truly are beautiful, my nightingale,” He said quietly, stumbling his way into attempting to use words again.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan blinked over at Emryc when he drew back, brows furrowed in a small pout. Without a word he was lifted up and away from the cold floor and into the other man's much more comfortable grip, eyes widening in surprise at the sudden movement. He didn't protest, however, instead taking the opportunity to leave a kiss along a patch of shoulder that felt like it needed one.

The prince settled into his new position, adjusting a leg slightly for comfort and looking down at Emryc. It was not a view he was exactly used to at this point, but he was less than shy about his bare form before those silver eyes. He straightened his spine and angled his head, a confident smile gracing his lips and offering a better view of his angled features.

"Only for you, soldier boy," he replied coquettishly, errant locks of hair draping in haphazard waves off to one side of his face. Questing fingers ran up the plains of Emryc's chest and over his shoulders, skin flushing a subtle gold across his neck and shoulders as the other man's hands brushed up along his legs. Muscle like steel cable coiled and uncoiled, pressing into the touch the young Drast craved most.

Silver eyes came up again to meet gold and Emryc spoke a few quiet words. They left Morgan smiling brightly and laughing with joy, knowing that it was only the man who said such things that made them worth so much. He froze a moment, looking thoughtful. He thought Emryc was beautiful, of course, but he didn't just want to repeat what he'd said.

Morgan leaned down, hands on either side of Emryc, hips lifting off his abdomen and sliding back. He draped himself quite casually across the other man, his head settling something next to an ear. A tender kiss was laid on his neck just beneath the half-Sephi's jawline.

"I like the way you hold me," he whispered, fingers tracing along the lines over a muscular arm. The same hand settled itself on his cheek to gently guide his head toward him, pressing his "I like it when you talk about things you enjoy. I like the way you look at me the way you are right now. I like being here with you, and I like it when you tell me what you want. It makes me happy." Delicate fingers ran through Emryc's hair and he laid his head next to his, face buried against his shoulder and face heated from the effort of being that straightforward.

"Your prince would like to not be cold, cheri."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

There was that laugh again, the one he never knew how to draw out but cherished whenever it happened. He found himself automatically smiling in response, the impact entirely involuntary by now. He felt Morgan leaning into him as he laid against him. Emryc’s hands moved to wrap around him, sliding down his back as his fingers grazed long his spine. He felt Morgan’s lips against his neck, his hands sliding down and gripping into Morgan’s flesh.

Morgan’s words caused him to tilt his head to look at the other man. He didn’t understand why Morgan liked some of the things Emryc did, but he filed it away as things to eventually learn. What stuck with him were the words that his actions made Morgan happy. That had been the term for it. That was what he wanted to see in Morgan. That was what he wanted to incite in Morgan.

Emryc rolled over so Morgan was beneath him, on the bed this time. He smiled down at the man, “Is this better?” He asked with amusement glinting in his eye. It was his turn to lean down and kiss him along his neck. He trailed down along his collarbone and further down, taking his time to explore and tease along his chest before he continued down. Emryc always found new parts of him to taste and this time was no different as he kissed along his lower ribs and down along his stomach towards a hip bone.

The kisses continued down all the way to his thigh where Emryc bit softly into the skin. He just happened to look up then to meet Morgan’s gaze. He saw passion and desire, but he also saw something else. Pupils were constricted and he had that look again. Emryc drew away from the thigh and stared at him for a moment.

And then he started laughing.

It didn’t matter where he was positioned right then, he couldn’t help it, the laugh unexpectedly escaping him. It continued for a few seconds before Emryc pushed himself up. He grabbed Morgan by the hands and pulled him up to sit as he slid off the bed to stand.

“You are starving, my prince, and I don’t want my ship to suffer your wrath,” Emryc chuckled softly again, leaning in to kiss Morgan on the forehead before he strode from the room, giving Morgan a chance to do his extended morning preening, “I’ll see if I can find some food more to your liking.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan smiled up at Emryc, their new positioning leaving him feeling much warmer, though not only because of body heat. "Much," he breathed quietly, fingers playing through the other man's hair as he traveled downward. Each new kiss brought with it a soft sound, the Firrerreo's breathing unfocused and uneven.

The prince's body reacted on its own to the other man's touch, especially when teeth met skin, tensing and relaxing beneath him. Gold eyes looked over at Emryc, and- he stopped. Morgan blinked, a bemused and mildly irritated look settling on his face as the half-Sephi laughed and then pulled him up. The young prince gave Emryc a withering look and opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by a gentle growling of his stomach that changed his face into a pout. He hadn't actually eaten today. Or done anything else.

He accepted the parting kiss with a soft smile, thoughts turning to Emryc had come to notice some of his little quirks, and stood from the bed. Arms went high in a large stretch, then a rolling of the neck and shoulders. Quietly he stepped from the room and off to his crate to retrieve some clothes and a towel, then to the refresher to get to what was supposed to be a daily routine. It wasn't long before the sound of a running shower escaped from a deliberately left open door paired with a soft and jazzy humming.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Unfortunately, even being back on his own ship didn’t mean that the food suddenly got more interesting. He had fresh fruits and veggies, but any proper ‘meals’ were simply easy to toss together MREs. Emryc was no chef and he was all about efficiency. If it couldn’t be heated up or quickly chopped and consumed, it took far too much time.

He grabbed a plate of fruits himself and found a bantha stew MRE that he actually liked quite a bit for Morgan. He put it into a bowl so it looked slightly more appetizing than out of a bag. Emryc was back in the common area, having placed the bowl down for Morgan. His sensitive ears could pick up on the singing and it brought a faint smile to his lips. He could even smell the traces of citrus and herbs already.

Emryc had returned to his room to organize his things and toss away the burnt sheets. He packed away his own bag, pausing to stare at the cracked figurine. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind, and he had to quell them all. He put the figurines and whip away, turning next to the items Morgan had left.

By the time Morgan came out again, the saber hilt and anything else was neatly arranged atop his crate. Emryc wouldn’t go as far as to open the crate. However, he couldn’t help himself as he sat at the table and stared at the Drast portrait in the music box. He had been there gazing at it for a long while, far away from the present. The Holo was on in the background and his plate of fruits remained forgotten.

He wouldn’t be shaken out of his thoughts till Morgan approached, and he closed the music box reflexively. He glanced over at the Firrerreo, managing a half grin, “I...didn’t mean to meddle in your things..” He muttered awkwardly. It was not like him to ever do such a thing. He minded his own business just as he expected others to do.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

After his shower the prince planted himself properly in front of the refresher mirror, preening precisely and purposefully the way he reminded himself he should have done earlier. Once again his eyes found their way to his claws and he ran his file across them, frowning. They grew quickly, of course, and even dulled the edges seemed to return within a relatively short time. They certainly looked human enough, but judging from the many scratches Emryc had gathered they ended up sharp. It was far, far less bad than if he just let them grow back into proper claws, but it was also worse than human fingernails.

He looked pensive as he finished his grooming, made sure his skin was dry, and then dressed himself in a pair of high-waisted sweatpants and black tank. He emerged from the refresher and was immediately hit with the smell of mediocre MRE food, something he actually recognized. They held none of his fondness but he'd eaten them before when food was necessary, and he quickly found the source as he walked up. Morgan's eyes moved from the steaming bowl to Emryc, who had shut his music box after he'd walked up.

The prince stepped right up to Emryc and leaned in, a hand pressed gently against his gorgeous jawline as Morgan leaned in to plant a tender kiss on his lips. He drew back again after a moment, smiling affectionately at him. "Not meddling if you're already allowed," he stated simply, walking past him to place the lightsaber back in the phrik box and retrieve something else, as well as something from his crate. "Anyone else would be missing hands by now, anyway." Morgan padded over to the table and planted himself before the bowl and placing the two things atop the smooth surface. One was very obviously a bottle of bright green and orange hot sauce.

The other was a pendant, a dark octahedron attached to a long cord and etched with tiny Sith symbols not unlike those on the Kravos holocron or Morgan's brands, each filled in with miniscule amounts of bright red Sarrassian iron. Clipped to the bottom point was a small aurodium locket, currently closed tight. Despite its obvious Dark side alignment, it barely registered as existing at all through the Force.

The young Drast was quiet as he opened his bottle of hot sauce, tasted the stew with a blank expression, and promptly added a good amount of the liquid into it. He stirred it with the spoon and tasted it again with a semi-satisfied hum. It wasn't the best, but he wouldn't bad mouth Emryc for trying.

"That is important too," he said, waving vaguely toward the little thing with clear signs of being nervous and trying to distract himself with food. Morgan paused in his eating and looked up, meeting Emryc's eyes over the table.

"I would like to show you everything. Eventually. But I can start with this, if you want."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc wasn’t quite sure how Morgan would react, but the concerns quickly abated. He returned the kiss, drawing in the full blast of citrus and herbs from Morgan being fresh out of the shower. A vague memory of the club back on Bespin crept into his mind for whatever reason. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, but he was distracted when Morgan retrieved more items from his crate.

He grinned at Morgan’s words, almost quipping back that the Firrerreo enjoyed what Emryc did with his hands a bit too much to take them off. However, he generally abstained from making juvenile jokes around him and opted to stay silent instead. Emryc eyed the trinket Morgan brought over with great interest. He knew these were personal items, more personal than anything that ever made it into the history books. Emryc had devoured most knowledge that he could get his hands on about Sith history, but even he didn’t pretend to know everything.

Trying not to get ahead of himself, Emryc instead looked at the bottle Morgan brought out. He watched him dump some of it into the perfectly good and tasty stew. Eyes narrowed as he watched Morgan suddenly find the stew more appealing. He looked at the bottle and glared at it for a moment. The bottle slid across the table and into Emryc’s hand.

He looked from the bottle and then down to his own plate of food and then back to the bottle. Emryc brought it up to sniff at it first just to gauge what kind of flavor to expect.

And it was a mistake.

It felt as if every tiny hair he had inside his nostrils were singed right off. Emryc’s eyes began to water and he set the bottle down. He turned away as he began to sneeze repeatedly in quick succession. The sneezes continued for a while, his face turning completely red and tears streaming down his face. He was standing and hunched over, wiping his face off with his hoodie sleeve.

It took a moment for him to collect himself before he finally returned to sit back down. Face was red, nose was red, eyes were bloodshot. Emryc calmly stared back at Morgan, the hot sauce bottle sliding casually back towards the Firrerreo.

Emryc quietly reached for a fruit and popped it into his mouth as he focused on the pendant, “Yes, tell me about it.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The stew was eaten with a kind of methodical efficiency rather than any real enjoyment beyond the fact that it was food and Morgan was hungry. He'd certainly had worse meals but he'd also just recently had fancy café food, so it was just going a spoonful at a time. He almost missed the movement of the sauce bottle entirely.

Morgan looked up at Emryc and went to protest him trying it, but was too late for what happened next. He stared, unsure what face to make as the other man went through a mildly alarming sneezing fit across the table. By the time Emryc had returned to the table and started pretending everything was totally fine, in an impressive show of almost solipsistic defiance against how red his entire face was, Morgan's face had settled on something between worry and amusement. It might even have elicited a laugh, but there was a difference between tricking him into trying hot sauce and a mistake for some reason.

The prince elected to move on after a couple seconds and preserve the other man's dignity since he seemed okay. He slid the bowl aside, cleaned his fingers and face with a napkin from somewhere with care, and then delicately picked up the pendant by the cord. Then those fingers let go in midair, though the pendant remained suspended on threads of the Drast's will, golden eyes glinting as they turned toward it.

A small exertion was made and he waved a hand toward it. The octahedron spun around its center, each half in the opposite direction, and then the halves clicked and rose upwards slightly, split in half again and broke up sideways so what was actually a shell was split into four pieces. Inside the pendant was a lightly glowing red sphere, resembling a bled krayt dragon pearl, and suddenly the pendant had an actual presence in the Force.

The gemstone flashed once along with the sarrassian iron sigils and an encoded message, half in the Force and half within old technology, manifested itself over the center of the table. It was a chain code, a projected display of Morgan's lineage, though currently only Morgan and his parents and grandparents. The sigils were old Sith, and Morgan wasn't sure if Emryc could read it or not, but it didn't matter in this case.

Morgan reached forward and pointed to a set of symbols on the bottom, placed next to an empty space intended for a spouse or spouses in the code. "This is me. The pendant was given to my teacher to keep a record of the family branch he guarded," the prince said quietly, his expression having shifted to something nervously happy. He wanted to share this with Emryc, but he was still unsure about it all the same.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was privately thankful that Morgan didn’t have any overt reactions to his own little outburst. He ate a fruit, wiped his fingers off, ate another and continued the gesture without a second thought. His face was still red and he had to wipe his nose a few times and rub his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was in that bottle, but he considered it as an agent to use on enemies.

Silvers focused on the pendant as Morgan let it hover in the air between them. It had all the markings and appearance of a Drast trinket and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. He watched the pieces come apart as the pearl manifested. Its presence in the Force was suddenly almost tangible. It felt ancient, and briefly he was reminded of his time on Dathomir with the old spirits. It was haunting in a way, and it sent a chill down his spine.

Emryc glanced down at the projection, seeing what appeared to be names. He got up from his chair, walking around to read. Having studied ancient Sith, he could make out what they were as he internally translated. His eyes visibly widened as he worked out what it was. The names he may not have recognized immediately, but the branding and the style of the symbols were associated exclusively with the Kravos line. His leaned in even close, interest sparking clearly in his eyes.

Morgan was truly descended directly from the Kravos line. Seeing it all displayed like this caused his lips to part in shock.

Emryc heard Morgan speak while his eyes were still on the names, following his words to find Morgan’s name, “You know what became of Diabolus…” He whispered softly. He knew Morgan had known, but it was something else entirely to admit it aloud. It was something that had eluded historians this entire time.

He glanced up almost excitedly to look at Morgan but caught the look of nervousness on his face. Emryc’s own face tilted slightly as he studied the Firrerreo. He blinked at him, looked back at Morgan’s name and then back at him, “....What are you so afraid of?” He asked rather bluntly, as he had before.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The young Drast watched Emryc carefully while he looked over the code, eyes never leaving his face. He needed to see and understand. The other man turned to look and Morgan caught the look on his face, smile widening slightly even if it was a little sad.

"Being seen before I am ready." The sad smile turned thoughtful for a moment, head tilted the same as Emryc's for several silent seconds.

Then he laughed, bright and joyful, as if Emryc's casual, blunt reaction was the most amusing thing he'd ever heard. He stood up from his seat, expression settled into something casually cheerful and affectionate. Gold eyes looked into silvers and a hand came up to gently grasp Emryc's. "We have been hidden for a long time. Doing this, feeling these things, is scary for me."

"But," he started, stepping forward and sliding his arms slowly around Emryc torso. "I am not afraid to be seen by you." The prince sank into Emryc, his head settling on his shoulder and arms squeezing him close. The warmth comforted him like it always seemed to lately and his muscles, tense beneath the skin, relaxed against the other man. Morgan stayed there a while, whether or not Emryc reciprocated the gesture, taking in his scent while a gentle purr rose from the Firrerreo's chest.

Seconds passed without him speaking another word. His grip around Emryc steadily became something possessive as much as it was affectionate. They only had a day left before they returned to the station and had to separate. Morgan just wanted to stay where he was.

The next words were spoken with a faltering voice, as if hadn't quite thought them through and was unsure how to put them all together properly. It was an almost fragile sound, soft and hopeful. But he was trying.

"Will you read to me?"

It didn't really matter what. Morgan just wanted to hear his voice.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc stared as Morgan laughed suddenly. Every time he worked out a way to cause it, Morgan threw him off again. The half Sephi was silent as the other man laughed, though that involuntary smile crept onto his face again. It was like clockwork now.

He heard Morgan’s words, surprised to hear an admission of fear. Emryc pondered on that for a moment until the Firrerreo came over to close the distance. He stared as Morgan wrapped his arms around him, not doing anything in return at first. It took a second before his own arms came up to wrap around Morgan, returning the embrace. This was still a gesture that was new to him and he was still a bit stiff and awkward about it.

Emryc felt Morgan ease into him, the slender Firrerreo fitting snugly against his larger frame. He enveloped Morgan in his arms, savoring the warmth and the feeling of just holding him. He couldn’t understand why he liked it, just that he did. Like Morgan, he said nothing the entire time - nothing needed to be said.

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise when Morgan spoke next. He recalled when he had asked him to read the first day he had been on his ship. Emryc had brushed him off then, that day that felt like centuries ago. He couldn’t help but grin as he nuzzled his face against Morgan’s neck.

“If you insist, nightingale,” He murmured quietly with a kiss before he stepped back. Emryc walked towards the hallways, thinking about everything Morgan had shared thus far. The music box, the picture, the pendant, all of it settled into various corners of his mind. All of it was dangerous information that could endanger Morgan’s life.

He looked through the shelves till he found an old book that told of the old Sith and their battles. He slid the glass open and took it out, walking back towards the common area. Emryc settled down into the couch, letting Morgan get cozy against him or across.

He opened up the ancient book and began to read, “General Tyrius Crofton of the Imperial Army in the time of the Drasts was tasked with securing Hutt space,” Emryc paused for a moment before he kept reading, “Throughout the ages, these military efforts led to the eventual construction of a space station that would train the finest Sith in the Imperial forces. While in the beginning the soldiers were recruits, over the centuries, the practice became centered around creating them,” Emryc paused for a moment, exhaling before he continued, “Either children were taken at a very young age or DNA was taken from banks and existing Sith. They very rarely knew their origin."

Emryc’s jaw tightened slightly as he turned the page, “These children were trained in batches. They would be introduced to things that drew out their humanity. They were given puppies, kittens…” He swallowed for a moment, “Rabbits. And they would care for these animals. And then they were told to exterminate these companions they had grown to cherish for some time. Such experiments and situations would continue for years on end, always growing more and more complex in nature. The goal would be the same - introduce humanity and then force the subject to detach or destroy it. They would be asked to destroy children, innocents, anything they ever loved, anything that ever gave them guilt. They were conditioned to believe that attaching to anything meant its inevitable destruction and loss."

He slowly turned another page, “The station was meticulous in its training. If any children failed or showed weakness, they were killed and discarded. The project produced few subjects that graduated, but they were considered the best among the Sith. They were efficient at what they did but…” Emryc’s fingers brushed over the text that spelled out the boring details of the battle on Nar Shaddaa, “They were ultimately soldiers. They were machines and hollow beings. They could kill, but they couldn’t communicate. They were fearless on the battlefield, but they were subjected to chaos within their minds. They were manipulative and calculating, but they were lost when it came to humanity. They were invincible when following a path laid out by those on the station, but they were vulnerable when...anyone else showed them another way,” Emryc’s voice quietened to almost a whisper as he stared into the pages, “These hollow soldiers had long since forgotten what it meant to be vulnerable. And it left them bereft of the tools to navigate through it. It unraveled them and stripped them down their very core. And that terrified them because it forced them to face what truly lay inside. Forced them to see that part of them they had thought to be destroyed. That part of them that the station would destroy them for ever keeping. That part that was as dangerous to carry as the evidence of the bloodline of a Drast.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan's fingers followed Emryc for a moment as he walked away, brushing affectionately across an arm. He padded over to the couch after the other man and shamelessly settled himself in prime lounging position, spread across the couch with his head in Emryc's lap. Eyelids closed and hands settled across his stomach and with the purring sound still reverberating through him, he relaxed and just listened to the sound of the voice he liked most reading words off the page.

Distantly he recognized the subject matter, fairly certain he'd read the book himself at some point. It was a history book, which was to be expected considering the person doing the reading. The prince's face settled into something blank as Emryc continued to speak, then his brows furrowed as he continued. Yes, he recognized this book, and especially recognized when the soldier boy deviated from what was written. Morgan stayed silent, eyes closed, and just listened.

Near the end his eyes opened again, looking up at the book in Emryc's hands. Slowly his own came up and delicately took the book, closing it gently so Emryc could see his face. Silken fingers wrapped around the half-Sephi's still injured hand and brought it down, careful of the injury itself, and pressed it to Morgan's lips.

"Who you are is enough," he whispered into the fingers and kissed them again, gold eyes looking up at the other man with the glitter of utmost affection. It didn't matter a whit to Morgan the origins of the man he loved, who his parents were or anything like that. He was valued all on his own, treasured on his own merits, nothing more or less. The sins of others were not his to bear, and it was the choices he made himself that Morgan saw clearest.

Here he had chosen to find a way to explain things to Morgan in the best way he felt capable, something the young Drast was intimately familiar with. Perhaps Emryc worried it would make him worth less in the eyes of the prince, but it only settled the little soldier boy more firmly in Morgan's heart. He knew he wasn't just some hollow tin soldier, destined to be used and discarded by his masters, and he knew that what he'd just said was meant to prove how serious he was just as much as the pendant and the music box had been.

Morgan smiled up at him, golds burning bright into silver and skin lightly gilded as took in every detail of the man's face. The hand was placed over his heart.

"My Emryc, I will never let you go. I promise."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

The comfortable weight of Morgan against him eased Emryc the entire time he ‘read’ off the pages. The Firrerreo would have felt him tense here and there, and it was clear that this was venturing into territory he had never experienced before. Speaking as if reading a book somehow made it easier to communicate his past, and even then it left him feeling weak and sick.

Emryc glanced down when Morgan slowly removed the book from his hands, his face pensive and eyes suggesting thoughts far away. He felt Morgan grasp his hand and look up as he kissed against the fingers. The words he spoke hung in the air as Emryc thought about them.

Emryc gazed into those fiery eyes that he found himself staring into so often, and he noted the angles of his face and all the details that spoke of resemblances to the first Sith Empress. It had almost been off-putting at first, but he found it beautiful now because it was very much Morgan himself. If Morgan could love him when he was a nobody without titles or origins, could he not see the Firrerreo simply for him?

The kisses were soft against his skin where the bandages hadn’t covered it. Emryc was silent for a moment as Morgan shifted his hand down and spoke again. The words drew out a smile then, and his other hand almost instinctively reached to affectionately brush through Morgan’s hair. It was an abrupt and new gesture he normally never thought to do. However, he hesitated, thinking about how the prince liked every hair perfectly in place. That thought widened his smile, and he opted instead to comfortably rest his hand along his chest.

“I want to be better,” Emryc said after a long moment, still gazing into goldens, “For you…” He thought of everything they had to risk, all the expectations that had been set for them, all the challenges they would face, “..For us,” Emryc looked away then, pondering the meaning of the words. He had been conditioned to keep everyone at a measurable distance, and he was breaching every protocol and habit forced onto him. He was fighting against everything he thought he knew.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

A hand rose up from where it lay and cupped Emryc's cheek, a thumb tracing along his jawline. The smile from Morgan's face almost luminescent in its brightness. The half-Sephi reiterated what he'd said in the cafe, and after what he'd just gone through to tell the prince about his past the weight behind it was truly staggering.

Morgan lifted himself up by the waist and adjusted himself so he was sitting in Emryc's lap and placed the book carefully on the back of the couch. Emryc's hand in his grasp never left his heart, which sped up and was joined by a rumbling purr when the Firrerreo turned back to look at him, face to face. An arm wrapped around the other man's shoulders and brilliant golds looked straight into silvers, just to make sure Emryc could see every movement and emotion displayed behind them.

"I look forward to seeing what else you can be," Morgan whispered with every ounce of love he had in his heart for Emryc, and then without another word he kissed him just the same. The arm around the other man's shoulders pulled him close and Emryc would easily be able to feel how the act made the prince's heart flutter beneath his chest and his breath quicken. It was real and physical and impossible to fake. Just in case Emryc had any doubts left.

He drew back eventually and settled his head against Emryc's shoulder, exactly the way it felt like it belonged.

"I want to see a Huttball game with you. As a date," he said suddenly, probably a little more firmly than he'd intended. Maybe he'd get the hang of it eventually. "And I want to spend the rest of the day in your arms. If you don't mind."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc felt Morgan shift and move to sit on his lap, the adjustment a welcomed gesture. He felt an arm snake around his shoulders, the other grasping his own hand still. His focus remained on the eyes that burned like the Tatooine suns. His own gaze was warmer, though still detached in appearance. Only Morgan could note the subtleties in his still cold stare that pierced like frosty daggers.

His free hand shifted to hold Morgan around the waist, pulling him closer. He liked this warmth, and he liked the way the Firrerreo fit against him. Morgan’s words reflected within his mind. The man would likely lay the foundations of what else Emryc could be. He had to, because Emryc only knew limited ways to be. Morgan had already opened doors that he hadn’t even known existed.

Emryc pulled Morgan in as they kissed, leaning into that familiarity. He felt the passion and fire. Fire, quite literally on his tongue from kissing Morgan. He had forgotten the man liked to drink lava. It took every little ounce of willpower and calling upon his devotion and meticulous training to keep it together. He smiled at Morgan when they broke apart, holding him tightly as Morgan rested his head against his shoulder.

Emryc’s gaze flicked to that infernal bottle of hot sauce that was quickly proving to be the bane of his existence. He focused back on Morgan, his tongue and the inside of his mouth completely ablaze as he fought back tears. Still he leveled his breathing as if normal, holding the man he cherished so much in his arms.

The Huttball suggestion was a huge distraction and it brought a smile, “And where would you like to go.....on a date?” He managed to get out before drawing in breath and exhaling cleverly to make it look like normal breathing. He was desperately trying to cool his mouth off. The second part of Morgan’s request was already answered in the way Emryc held him tightly and had little intention of moving.

Even if it meant silently trying to pat down the inferno in his mouth.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan stared at Emryc's face from where he was planted on his shoulder, expression frozen after the other man's question. His brows furrowed slightly and his tongue drew itself across his fangs in silence while, and then he abruptly departed from Emryc's lap to head off toward his crate, picking the book up on his way to return it to its place on the shelf.

After a few moments, a small bag of sailed from the doorway to plop on the couch vaguely near Emryc. The label clearly indicated it was a packet of fairly expensive mint chocolates.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," he called casually, padding over toward the refresher. He'd skipped the usual step of brushing his teeth after eating in the middle of everything, and Emryc had clearly paid the price. Morgan decided to do something about it. He ran his tongue over his fangs again, then paused in the common area doorway to turn and look toward Emryc to flash them at him in a grin. The fire from earlier had clearly returned.

"Huttball on, pants optional." Then he stepped away again and planted himself in front of the mirror to solve the problem of having Firrerreon hot sauce on his tongue, leaving Emryc to handle the situation he'd found himself in with a bit of time and some sweets.

The prince emerged again after a minute or so and made his way back to his soldier boy, sitting on the couch and sidling up nice and close with a satisfied humming, smelling vaguely minty.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc stared when Morgan abruptly rose up. Had he been that obvious? He said nothing, calmly observing as the Firrerreo walked over to his crate and began to shuffle through his things. When he finally spoke, Emryc realized that he had been rather obvious. A sheepish grin appeared on his face, but he was appreciative of it nonetheless. He had begun to internally panic on what he would have done if Morgan’s kisses began to trail elsewhere…

He didn’t miss Morgan taking the book back to place it exactly where it belonged. The gesture was simple and subtle, and yet it meant the world to the half Sephi. It showed that someone cared for his things and it was a concept he didn’t quite grasp. A curious look remained on his face distracted only by the mint chocolates plopping down in front of him.

Morgan was out of sight so Emryc didn’t hesitate to dive for the mints, shoving a few into his mouth at once. The effects were soothing immediately, and he finally felt the fires dying out. His entire body relaxed and he wiped the hints of tears from his eyes. He considered dressing options with a grin, though he opted to keep his pants on for now.

The Holo was on and streaming a game. Though it wasn’t his team that was playing, it had a fantasy draft of his in it. By now, the hot sauce disaster was mitigated and he was relaxed on the couch. Morgan barely managed to get on it before Emryc grabbed him and pulled him close, kissing him deeply to make up for earlier. There was no unwanted fire this time, just the taste of those lips he always craved and mint. He took his time, delving into the kiss and teasing with his non burning tongue. Every now and then he grazed along those sharp fangs that could cut him so easily. It was always an exhilarating reminder of how dangerous the man was despite the way he melted into Emryc’s arms.

He finally drew back from the kiss, lips tender and gaze warmer. A score happened on the Holo and he missed it. Emryc pulled Morgan in tight on his lap and leaned back to rest against the armrest, looking back at the holo as the Firrerreo was pulled against his chest.

“Dagnos Var, that green Rodian, is a one man show,” Emryc muttered as said player clocked another in the face and rushed right past him. He was entirely distracted for a moment, vacantly staring at the Holo as he watched the game. Every now and then he tensed up and gripped Morgan tighter for any close calls. After a while there was a small commercial break and Emryc turned back to look at Morgan.

“We can watch a movie instead, you know. Anything you like,” Wasn’t that what the people on Holomovies did for ‘dates’?

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The sudden kiss was sunk into eagerly, tasting mint and chocolate and Emryc. His arms curled possessively around him as they pulled eachother close, the game entirely forgotten for however long they were in eachother's arms. The half-Sephi certainly knew what he was doing by now and the Firrerreo's fingers curled into his hair and against his skin, trying very hard not to actually damage anything. Then he drew back and Morgan was pulled into his lap.

The prince wasn't sure whether to pout or smile at the gesture, but his hands were laid comfortably across Emryc's arms and he wiggled a little to settle into a good position. His golden eyes inquisitively watched the match, his humming purr briefly intensifying every time the other man gripped him tighter. The Dagnos Var fellow seemed particularly aggressive, unhesitating in his violent blitz, and Morgan noted at least Huttball was less tame than some other sports. Maybe Emryc would like some of the stuff on Firrerre?

He blinked when Emryc asked his question, having spaced out a little just before the commercials started, and turned his eyes to look up at him. It was quiet for a little, his expression mixed and his eyes burning and half-lidded. He blinked again to refocus on Emryc and decided to keep his comment about a particular movie to himself.

"I like adventure stuff," he answered. "And shockboxing. Shocky Zalroa is good."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc’s eyes visibly widened when Morgan mentioned his movie preferences.

“Shocky Zalroa? No way!” It was difficult to keep the excitement from his voice, “I’ve seen all ten movies. Oh, you know my favorite scene has gotta be-” He stopped himself, catching how absurd he was being. Emryc simply grinned then, holding Morgan tighter before placing a kiss against his cheek. He eased himself off the couch, walking over to plug his datapad into the Holo.

His entire library of movies came up, the genres ranging from action, sci fi, crime, some romantic dramas he quickly skipped past before arriving at classics. The entire Shocky Zalroa collection was there along with all the offshoot movies and shows. He started playing the first movie before making his way back to the couch, dimming the lights.

Emryc eased back into the couch, letting Morgan choose how he wanted to sit. Gaze flicked down briefly as he reconsidered the pants option, but then he turned to look at the Holo again. He had spent hours watching these movies by himself and it was surreal to share with another. A part of him was still very uncomfortable with the whole thing, but most of him felt privately elated.

@Mr. Teatime