Mathesar would be the first to admit that human customs are a mystery to him.
For this reason, he makes no complaint when Jason interrupts the press and slide of lips-teeth-tongue to roll him onto his back, and straddles him with hunger in his eyes.
Instead, he watches with interest as his clothes are systematically unbuttoned, unzipped, and summarily discarded. It is not until he is fully unclothed, his pale skin exposed to the dim light of the candles, that Jason glances up at him as if seeking permission, and Mathesar realizes what it is he's asking.
He answers with a smile. This expression, stretching the contours of a foreign face and mouth, should be so, so strange and yet feels so very wonderful, and it never fails to make Jason look as though he is both utterly lost and completely at home.
(It's one of the few human emotions Mathesar can easily recognize, being intimately familiar with it himself.)
Now is no exception, and Jason understands immediately. He grins, and it is almost the smarmy cocksure smirk that he shows to the world, almost, but there is home and lost and want and need and it is not the same at all.
It is Mathesar's smile, the smile he left his ship and crew and all that was left of his home behind for; and when Jason asks him a question inside a wordless question
was it worth it?
his answer will always be
yes.