He woke with a gasp, convulsing on the couch, smacking his heel into a badly-padded section of the arm. He winced and sat up, brushing the holocron off of him. It didn't fall far – Rye had plugged into it, probably when Darth Virul had agreed to assist them, and his cord lay across Azix's legs.

He was shivering, and realized he was still wearing nothing but a slightly damp towel. One of the hovering droids carried his thin blanket over in its pincers and laid it over him, and he gathered it close. "Th-thanks…"

"The temperature dropped," Rye's voice said from the wall speaker. A crack of thunder rumbled overhead, and Azix suddenly realized the roaring in his ears wasn't just his blood pressure anymore – it was torrents of rain outside. "I'm sending other maintenance droids to retrieve your clothes from the bathroom, but there's not much air movement in there; I don't know if they'll be completely dry."

"S'okay." Azix's teeth chattered a little, and he got up, re-tying the towel around himself as he padded into the hallway barefoot. He only turned one corner before the carpet began to squelch under his feet, black with soot-stained water. "Rye, are we flooding?"

"There's a slow trickle in the lower levels. It's not critical… yet." Rye shimmered into view, eying the saturated carpet critically. "But I'm reading dangerous spreading of microfractures in the walls. The obelisks are at particular risk, and worse, I don't have good readings on their structural integrity. They weren't updated during the conversion," he explained over the high whine of the wind sliding over the gap in the outer wall, echoing down the corridor.

"Fuck. So they could go at any time?"

"In winds like these? I'm afraid so." Rye moved closer and reached for his shoulder. "It may be safer for you to relocate."

Azix gave a cold laugh. "Let me guess. The basement?"

"No, the vault," Rye said. "It's above-ground and safe from flooding for the moment, and it's at a more central location. Less likely to be buried in a landslide or crushed by falling obelisks. The issue is, I've already moved many of the artifacts there, including the ones that caused you distress from their proximity before, so the vault may not be much better than the basement as far as you're concerned. And if the lighting shorts again…."

"I'll be in the dark." Az took a long, trembling breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Just until this storm passes. How close are you to being finished?"

"Very close," Rye assured him. "There will be no need to close the vault door, so you won't be shut in. And I'll send my droid with you, so I can accompany you. If you like, you can spend the whole storm in my holocron. We'll sit in front of a warm fire," he offered, smiling wryly. "I'll show you how Imperials make hot chocolate."

Azix couldn't answer for a moment. Rye moved in front of him and settled his incorporeal hands over his, fingers intersecting his, and he sucked in a breath. "… How do Imperials make hot chocolate?"

Rye rose on his toes, laser-etched mouth buzzing closer to Az's. "Dark chocolate, for that creamy bitterness. A little cinnamon and chili powder to warm your bones and give you a lift. And just for you, a dash of cream liquor to help you forget whatever upset you so badly."

/Oh. That./ Azix let his head dip, taking deep breaths, feeling Rye's head buzz against his. "I can't just forget. It's… it might be important. There are things I might really be wrong about. Things I never realized were happening, even though it was right in front of me."

"Can you do anything about it right now?" Rye's fingers traced his cheek.

Mute, Azix shook his head.

"Then we'll make a plan to deal with it when we get to New Adasta. Or, if you want, we can talk about it once you've had some cocoa and some cuddling and calmed down a bit. You'll feel better," he cajoled softly. "You'll think clearer."

/Yes,/ Azix's body whispered. He exhaled. "Yes."

"Here come your clothes." Rye stepped away from him to greet the hovering droids. The clothes they carried looked like they'd dried stiff, but at least they had dried. Az accepted them and rubbed the soles of his feet on the dry carpet once he got out of the flooded area, then went back to the security lounge to change. A few good snaps in the air helped get rid of some of the stiffness in the coveralls, and he stopped shivering once he'd bundled himself into the sweater.

Rye's droid booted up while he was dressing. By the time he finished, it was waiting for him. "This way," it said in a very mechanical approximation of Rye's voice. Its three red eyes were still a bit unnerving, but Azix followed it deep into the center of the museum, carrying the holocrons Rye had gathered, since they were some of the last significant artifacts remaining outside of the vault.

He was pleasantly surprised when they arrived – the vault was climate-controlled and sealed, but it was also very large, because it had been used as a clean restoration room for fragile artifacts. There were multiple glass-walled offices, computers and tools, desks, tables, and even hololandscapes on the walls to prevent technicians from going stir-crazy from spending entire days inside. The term 'vault' was also something of a misnomer – the room was protected against climate effects such as temperature and humidity, and Azix could see why Rye had chosen to move the artifacts here. But it wasn't a 'vault' in the sense of being encased in durasteel and hardened against thieves with cutting tools, which was probably why Rye hadn't offered it as a safe haven when the Monolith attacked. Its centralized location would ensure that any falling rocks would have to go through the rest of the temple before they got to them, but Azix doubted it would take a direct hit from above if the storm decided to drop something worse on them.

A tornado, for instance.

"How are the winds outside?" he asked as he let Rye seal the transparent, glassteel doors. He didn't seal the secondary doors, which were opaque, so Azix could still see out into the hall and the illusion of an escape route was comforting. He found a desk to dump his armful of holocrons on, then stepped away to shake off the effects of carrying half a dozen Dark Side artifacts against his chest, where they seemed to catch his heart in a sucking gravity well.

A gleam of orange in his reflection in the glassteel wall froze him momentarily. He closed his eyes, turned away, and forced himself not to worry about it right now. Rye's primary chassis and two probe droids settled into one of the offices which had a chair, which Azix figured was as good a place to weather the storm as any. It was, he found when he settled into it, actually quite a comfortable chair. Ergonomic. And it reclined.

"Really?" Rye asked when Azix scooted the chair back from the desk and tilted back, propping his feet on the gleaming glass desk. "Must you?"

Azix gave him a wry smile and stretched to test the chair's stability, folding his hands behind his head. "What? You think whoever comes over to restore this place is gonna care about my boot prints with half the wall collapsed?"

Rye glanced heavenward. "MANNERS, Jedi," he scolded, but he didn't force Azix to put his feet down. Instead, he moved his droid behind Azix and settled it into a resting posture, supporting the chair so Azix couldn't topple backwards no matter how schoolyard his behavior got. The droid's hands curled over the back of the chair, framing Azix's head. "Can you commune with me from there?"

Azix reached out, testing, and found that his spirit gravitated toward Rye's holocron like a homing beacon. He could have picked Rye's new home out of a dark room without effort, and even without touching it, he felt like he was being drawn into it just as he'd been drawn into Darth Virul's holocron.

Touching Dark artifacts wasn't turning his stomach anymore, either. Azix dropped that into a mental box labeled 'things to stress about later' and slammed the lid.

When he settled into himself inside Rye's mindscape, he was in his own room. The fire burned to welcome him, and the coffee table had been laid with a silver service. A tall kettle steamed gently from its wide, blunt spout, and pots of cream, honey, chili powder, and tiny marshmallows were clustered in between silver mugs. Cookies, ginger by their color and warm scent, were arranged on a platter with peppermint drops and horehound candy scattered between. There were also red-powdered candies that looked like they'd been rolled in chili spice, so Azix avoided those and anything they'd touched, picking up a cookie and taking a blissful bite of gingerbread and icing. "Mmm," he groaned, instantly feeling much better. "Rye?" He chewed as he poked around his room, but Rye didn't turn up.

He was already heading for the door when someone knocked on it from the outside. Amused, he stopped. "Come in."

The door swung open, and Rye stood there with a dark bottle of cream liquor, as promised. That wasn't what caught Azix's eye, though. Rye had eschewed a shirt, choosing instead to wear soft flannel pants in forest-green plaid that hung off his lean hips in a way that made Az forget all about cookies and chocolate. He smiled slow and smoldering when he caught Azix ogling him, and PURRED. "May I join you?"

There was a right answer to that question, but Azix couldn't find it. He was dimly aware that his mouth was hanging open, but he didn't snap back until the soft gingerbread disintegrated in his grip and the cookie crumbled to the floor. "Oh… shit." He winced and bent to scrape the lost cookie into his hands.

"Love, don't bother. It's not real." The cookie vanished, leaving his hands empty but smelling of gingerbread, and Rye stepped into the room. "So, can I come in? I told you I wouldn't come here without permission."

Permission? Az was still on his knees, and looked up at Rye, who was watching him with an exasperated sort of affection. Staring at all that soft crimson skin, Az rather thought he was the one who should be asking for permission. "…I…."

"Just say yes or no," Rye suggested.

"Yes," Az managed. Rye extended his hand, and Azix took it, rising, but he didn't pull Rye in even though he desperately wanted to.

"Hmm. Something more comfortable?" Rye suggested. He gently bumped the wide part of the bottle against Azix's chest, and Az found his clothes melting into a slightly oversized t-shirt and similar flannel pants with thick, grippy-soled socks. "You could take the shirt off if you like, but I didn't want to presume."

Azix's mouth was bone dry. "Rye…."

"Hush."

He was led to the couch and pushed down against a plush-lined blanket. Rye poured a generous amount of liquor into both mugs, then sprinkled them with marshmallows and chili pepper – a light dusting for Azix and a spoonful for himself. Then he filled them the rest of the way with rich, raw liquid chocolate that had, by its thickness, been cut with whole cream.

Up until this point, Azix had drunk his cocoa from dry packets. He stared at this alchemy with awed mistrust.

"Is it spicy?"

"Do you like spicy?" Rye replied, stirring Azix's cup with an engraved silver spoon.

"I do, actually. But not as spicy as Imperial food."

Rye laughed. "It's an acquired taste. But don't worry, I just gave you a pinch." He picked up the cup, with marshmallows just beginning to bob to the top through the thick chocolate, and offered it to him.

Azix cupped the warm metal in his hands and considered it. "How complicated is food?" he asked. "You build it from scratch, right? Using predictive algorithms to generate taste based on atomic structure and protein combinations?"

Rye, who was stirring his own chocolate, laughed. "Oh, you WERE listening. Yes, I do that. I'm interested in creating authentic experiences, because then I can measure your reactions to them and learn their real-world effects. And I will say it's much easier since I moved into such a roomy matrix. I could hardly have spared the RAM for such frivolity before." He grinned at Azix, showing cute little fangs much like Darth Virul's. Azix wondered if Virul had a little pureblood in them – many, if not most, Imperial humans did. Rye nodded to the chocolate. "I can't get your reaction if you don't try it."

On one hand, Azix had never heard of putting chili powder in cocoa before. On the other, coming from the Empire, it didn't surprise him. Their cuisine seemed engineered to be as hostile as they were, though he'd heard a rumor that purebloods didn't react to capsaicin the way humans did. He took a careful sip, and found the chocolate was precisely the right temperature – it stung his lips, just barely, and washed hot over his tongue, but it didn't burn. And he didn't even taste the chili powder until he'd swallowed it down with a soft groan of delight, a subtle heat and a tingle that remained on his tongue once the chocolate was gone. "Rye," he said, licking the rim of the cup and then taking another, more indulgent swallow. "Mmm. Wow."

"You seemed like you could use the warmth," Rye said soberly.

"Mmm," Azix agreed, rolling more of the cocoa over his tongue. The more he sipped the greater the heat, lingering on the inside of his mouth. If it was just a little sweeter… he reached out for the honey spinner and carefully gathered some to drizzle in his cocoa. Rye settled back with his own mug, propping his socked feet on Azix's thigh and looking satisfied.

"Make it to your taste," he said generously, as if Azix needed permission to change a time-honored recipe.

A little sweetness lifted the bitterness of the raw cocoa a great deal, and Az sank into the couch to enjoy it. One hand found Rye's foot and squeezed, idly rubbing the sole through the sock. That made Rye purr more, both hands cupped around his mug.

With the cocoa chasing away the cold, exhaustion settled in. Az's eyes felt loose, rolling in their sockets when he turned his head to regard Rye. "You look like you should be under the Life Day tree," he murmured.

"From the way your pupils are dilated, I'm going to assume that's a good thing." Rye smiled and flexed his foot in Az's grip. "Would that be a turn-on for you? I've seen something like that before in a holiday movie; under the tree wearing nothing but those little boyshorts and a bow?"

Imagining that made Azix blink several times as heat flushed through his neck and face. In lieu of answering, he pulled Rye's foot more firmly into his lap and rubbed his thumb firmly along the arch. Rye cuddled deeper into the couch and gave a soft, rumbling purr of contentment, cocoa balanced on his chest.

He took a new cookie, enjoying its fresh-from-the-oven warmth and softness and the melted icing. When was the last time he'd eaten a cookie? Years, at least. Very few people offered cookies to grown Jedi.

"Let's watch something," Rye suggested. "I've been making a list of holovids I have downloaded that you probably wouldn't find objectionable."

"I don't know if I can focus on anything but the way you look right now," Azix heard himself say sluggishly, and he flushed again and hid from the slight widening of Rye's eyes behind his mug of chocolate.

"Oy." Rye set his chocolate down and squirmed around, kneeling at Azix's side and capturing his jaw, gently forcing him to meet his eyes. "Don't hide. I'd love to try some things with you, and I can tell you need to unwind." He leaned in, and Azix's hand shook, making the chocolate slosh dangerously when Rye's mouth brushed his. His other hand reached out, fingertips just barely settling on Rye's shoulder, as if he wasn't sure he had the right to touch him. "I'll make you a deal," Rye murmured. "I want to make love with you. But we have to talk about what happened with Darth Virul."

Az winced. "That…." He stole a guilty glance at Rye, who caressed his jaw line and watched him quietly, letting him find words. "That's the last thing I want to think about right now."

Rye's head tilted. "… Fair. But we will talk about it," he promised, nuzzling Az. "Maybe after. I've been looking forward to having you all to myself again," he murmured, lifting, swiveling, one leg sliding over Az's to deposit himself in his partner's lap. "Last time was good, and I really want to learn how to…." He leaned in and whispered into Azix's ear. His terms were clinical, and it didn't matter in the least – Azix's eyes went wide and his cock swelled so fast it ached. He made a choked sound, and Rye grinned, backing off and pressing his brow spurs against Azix's forehead. "I hear it's something of an art."

"You…" Az squirmed, trying to relief the pressure, but the only thing he accomplished was making sure the heat of Rye's body slid right against his throbbing prick through two layers of sinfully soft flannel. "You know that I don't really know how to do that either?"

"Oh, I've done my research." Rye shifted in his lap, rubbing down against him, fingertips dragging along Azix's throat. "I know the practical elements. The 'moves', so to speak. But I have no feedback on how they work. So, what do you say?" He leaned in, kissing Azix softly, and Az just kriffing melted, head falling back against the couch as the whole world narrowed to the soft warmth of Rye's mouth on his. Rye teased him with his teeth, nipping at his lower lip, tongue flicking coyly against his and retreating before they could tangle together. "Be my lab partner?"

He sounded so playfully wicked that Azix's brain was practically mush, but in that mush, two neurons made a spark. He raised his head and eyed Rye. "… Is that a line from some porno?"

Rye's flush was guilty. "Yes. You don't like it?"

He groaned and let his head drop against Rye's shoulder. "Schoolgirl porn? Really? That's so gross."

"No!" Rye protested. "University porn. And it was between two males, and it featured exactly the sort of thing I was hoping to try with you, so I thought it would be a relevant source."

"You're watching-?" Az couldn't help dissolving into laughter. "Wow, Rye. Really? Let me guess, did they claim one of them was straight, or a virgin? First-time gay experience?"

Rye shifted back and narrowed his eyes at Azix in offense. "There is an abundance of pornography on the holonet," he said, and before Azix could say 'no, really?', he continued, "An ABUNDANCE. It is truly baffling how fond biologicals – of a NUMBER of species – are of filming themselves in delicto flagrante. The sheer variety boggles the mind, and makes it very difficult for someone like me to feel at all competent in approaching someone like you. BUT," he said, again heading off an interruption from Azix, "because of the incomprehensible volume of offerings, I'll have you know I've implemented a number of standards – filters, if you will – to ensure that I am consuming only the most relevant and quality smut.

"I developed these standards after scanning a number of message boards and net-hubs where reviewing and commenting on pornography and the pornography industry were common, and educating myself on the systemic injustices and illegalities that are perpetuated by certain facets of the industry. Therefore." He squeezed Azix's jaw in case his attention had been starting to wander. "I have prioritized the credibility of information that comes from independent performers and educators, and I have shunned material produced in collusion with companies or individuals known for abuse, sex trafficking, or exploitation of those unable to give informed consent, such as minors or animals.

"In addition, I have placed the lowest credibility ratings on material that plays close to those moral lines, such as your aforementioned 'schoolgirl porn', because it plays to those who fetishize minors even if everyone wearing a plaid skirt is actually of legal age. I did this long before I met you," he told Az sternly, "when I was first introduced to this tendency of biological creatures to perform sexually for an audience, and I have kept a meticulously organized and rated database since then so that if the possibility ever arose that I could have some kind of relationship, I would be prepared. And you have no idea," he added more softly, fingers sliding along the sides of Az's head, "how excited I've been to review that database and look specifically for things I can do with you. I never imagined I could have this," he said. "I've been waiting most of my cognizant life. So, in answer to your question, there were no facetious claims made that one partner was straight or a virgin. The video in question was made by a pair of long-term partners who've produced a serious of themselves performing with each other in various role-playing scenarios. I've enjoyed watching them," he added a little defiantly, "because I find their interactions to be… sincere. And instructive."

Azix felt a little dizzy. "There's instructive porn?" was all he could think to say.

Rye gave him a dry look. "Thousands of sentient species in the galaxy and a huge variety of toys, kinks, and fetishes, and you think nobody needs a how-to video? I initially found these two because they were rating sex toys and making instructional videos on how to use them. I was curious as to the appeal – I was still figuring out the whole concept of 'pleasure' at the time," he admitted a little sheepishly. Then he paused. "Considering your lack of real experience, maybe you would find them helpful."

Az grimaced. "I have NEVER watched porn," he said. "The closest I came was when the Nol Vids were going around and they showed a clip before the mission, so we'd know what Scion was probably doing to the kids he stole, and I couldn't even look. Not even now that I know it was all a scam."

"This is different," Rye assured him. "This is… real people, who honestly care for one another, trying to help others be less awkward when they try something new."

"Aaauuugh," Azix replied, covering his face with one hand.

Rye laughed. "All right, you enormous infant. No porn. Not today," he amended, giving Azix's cheek a brisk kiss. "But I have something I think you may enjoy. Just a charming little comedy I discovered ten years back or so. A cinematic gem, criminally underrated in its time."

"No sex?" Az grumbled.

"None at all. Though there is a very compelling subplot between the two main characters which, while not explicitly romantic, is definitely heartfelt and could certainly be interpreted in that frame of mind." He pressed another soft kiss to Azix's forehead and climbed off his lap, snuggling up next to him. The holoviewer turned on without the need for a remote or voice activation, and queued up a movie Azix had never seen before. At first, he was a little concerned that the main character seemed to be a soldier of the Imperial Military Home Defense Corps, stalking straight toward the camera with crisp precision, wearing a fastidious uniform. But a few seconds after the voiceover announced his name and began a montage of his prior training, Azix realized that the movie fully intended to play that for laughs, poking fun at the both the bureaucracy and the audience that idolized it.

He relaxed. The heated ache still lingered in his groin, and Rye's warmth against him, the texture of his skin under his wandering fingertips, were temptation incarnate. He traced the ridges on his lean back, played with his hair, made him give soft little purrs as they both got more and more lost in the plot and the comedic word-play. He finished his cocoa and snacked on marshmallows and cookies, while Rye sucked on a piece of chili-powdered candy.

He forgot, just for a couple of hours, that there was a world outside.

x-x-x

The movie ended in happily ever after. The main characters grew, and grew closer to one another. The evil Town Council which had been behind the murders went down in a hail of blaster bolts interspersed with speeder-chases. The swan lived. Azix finished his chocolate and Rye refilled his cup with pure cream liquor, and he finished that too. None of it was real, of course – not the warmth and steadiness of Rye's breathing, not the flush of the liquor in his belly, not the scent of gingerbread and melted chocolate. It didn't matter; Azix felt safer and more relaxed than he had in a long time. It felt real in all the ways that mattered.

Rye let the credits play for a few minutes before turning the volume way down and switching to music. His hand slid over Azix's thigh, and Az looked down dazedly at him, and how fiercely beautiful he was, all spurs and ridges and that straight nose and full mouth…

"Take this off," Rye suggested, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

Az thought he probably would have done anything Rye asked him to. He fumbled with the clingy fabric and managed to pull it up and over his shoulders. Rye's eyes slid over his body, and he felt his face heat.

"If Jedi do one thing right," the redhead observed, "it's physical fitness." He slid his hand from Azix's waistband up over his abs, tracing the curves of the muscle, and Az arched instinctively into his touch with a groan. "You are exquisite."

He gave a chuff and let his head loll back against the cushions. "I'm not handsome."

"I didn't say you were. Will you lie back for me?" Amusement danced in his eyes, so Azix complied, lifting his feet to stretch out across the couch. Rye settled comfortably straddling his hips, where he could drag both his hands in an admiring caress over Azix's strong shoulders and chest. "How many times has your nose been broken, anyhow? It's obviously at least three."

"Six," Az moaned, shifting under him as Rye's touches brought the ache pooled in his groin back to full strength.

"Ah, well. I'm half right, then." Rye smiled and leaned down, kissing along his collarbone, and Az slid his hand into his hair and kneaded his fingers between the roots. "I recognize that you're not conventionally beautiful," he murmured against Az's skin. "But I have only positive associations with your face. I like it. And your body is… mmm." He began to nibble his way down Az's stomach, which made him gasp and buck as his cock THROBBED in response. "How many other broken bones? I'm just curious."

"Nph… I… oh, fuck, Rye," he moaned, squeezing the back of his lover's neck as Rye's teeth found the line of his iliac. "It's… not counting broken ribs, I think this is the third or fourth time I've… NNnn.. broken my hand and… I've broken my left foot, and my collarbone… the ribs are just too many times to count… and I've had my right kneecap kicked out of socket, that sucked…."

"And you've been shot," Rye murmured, kissing a lumpen scar left over from a blaster bolt that had found a chink in his armor. "And stabbed." He dragged his tongue over a long, ragged line that crossed almost his entire torso, from his right hip toward the left side of his ribs.

"Imperial scout," Az groaned. "We surprised each other. Didn't have armor on at the time."

Rye's fingers found a deep furrow of scar tissue almost two inches wide, a perfectly straight line under his left arm across his ribs. Az relaxed a little when he touched it – the scar tissue was too thick for him to have any sensation in it. "Sith," he said simply. "Lightsaber."

Rye leaned up and kissed his mouth. "Honestly, love, I'm surprised you're alive," he murmured against his lips. "All that, and then falling out of the sky."

"It's not really unusual." Azix leaned into the kiss, closing his eyes, pulling Rye down into his arms so he could cuddle him tight against his chest. "Jedi live rough." He wrapped his arms around Rye and squeezed, groaning softly in relief as they were smushed together and Rye's body shifted to fit against his. Rye moaned and squirmed in his arms, snuggling down into him.

"I'm trying to get you worked up, but you really just want this, don't you?" he said dryly, muffled against Azix's chest.

Az smiled. "I want to do that too. Both. This first." He buried his face in Rye's hair and took deep breaths, absorbing his warmth, his scent, the soft thud of his heartbeat and the little movements of his throat. He indulged himself in that for several long minutes, just lingering in the warmth of holding Rye, of Rye being physical and substantial and tucked in his arms, covering him like a blanket. Then, when he felt like the gnawing loneliness had been pushed far enough away, he reached down and squeezed his ass.

Rye grunted and squirmed to better align his hips with Azix's. His erection had persisted through all of Azix's delays, and Az rewarded him by grinding up against him, snuggling him breathlessly tight as he rocked his hips up. His fingers traced the waistband of his pants and found the spot where the dip in his spine created a little wiggle room, sliding under the fabric to enjoy his heat. Rye arched into his touch and moaned softly, and Azix twisted his body, rolling to press Rye against the back of the couch and sliding his knee up between his thighs to open him.

"Az!" Rye gasped, laughing a little. "I still want to…"

Azix stopped what he was doing, blinking, unable to force his thoughts into line long enough to comprehend what Rye was trying to tell him. He had a beautiful male, lean and hot and responsive, trapped between his body and a soft surface and his instincts were screaming that there were THINGS he should be getting on with, essential things, ancient and primal things.

Rye's expression said he understood the haze that had overtaken Azix's thoughts. He gently pressed his lover down against the couch, hands on his shoulders, tipping him back into their former position as he straddled his hips. Azix went obediently – those instincts roared, but they weren't as important as whatever Rye wanted from him. Once he was settled on his back again, his lover found his hands and guided them above his head. He pressed something soft, a loop of padded fabric anchored to the frame of the couch, into his hands.

"I think tying you down would be a little much right now," he murmured. "But I want you to hold onto this with both hands. Promise, Azix? Hold onto it, keep your hands out of the way, and let me please you."

That threw cold water on Az's lust. He sucked in a breath, fingers twisting in the loop… but then they slid free, and his wrists twisted without resistance, and he was able to process what Rye was trying to do. NOT tying him down, not holding him, not forcing him. He wasn't trapped, suffocated by an invisible telekinetic weight or driven by an evil puppeteer with his fingers wrapped in Az's strings. Rye had stopped what he was doing, and was watching him, waiting for him to respond.

"… Azix?" he prompted after a moment of Az's heavy breathing. "If you don't want me to, we can do something else."

He forced his lungs to expand fully and let the air out in a long hiss, reaching out and cupping Rye's face. "Sorry. I… bad memories. Let me keep touching you for now?" His thumb traced one of Rye's cheek ridges, and Rye nodded, leaning into his touch.

"Of course. As long as you're comfortable." He slid his hands over Azix's chest. "Did Nol tie you?"

Az swallowed. "No. He… used The Force. It's not the specific… it's the 'trapped' feeling. It's the… not-having-a-choice feeling."

Rye leaned in and kissed him softly, rocking in easy rhythm against his hips, letting the heat of his balls press soft against Az's trapped erection. "You always have a choice," he murmured. "All you ever have to say is that you don't want to, or you're not comfortable, and I'll listen." He shivered as he ground down against him. "I never want to make you feel bad about this."

"Ohhh, Rye," he groaned, settling his hands on his lover's rolling hips. His thumbs traced the softness of his belly, slipping under his waistband again, and Rye tugged on his lower lip with his teeth.

"Strip me, Az," he whispered. "Touch me. I made sure to get every textural detail of your hands exactly right, and I want to experience them."

He laughed, and the last of his unease faded into nothing. "Did you?" he murmured, tugging playfully at the stretchy fabric. "EXACTLY right?"

Rye arched his back, sucking in a breath as Az's knuckles brushed against his stomach, and lower. "Oh yes. Exactly. A meticulous holoscan. I have mapped your callouses, your misaligned knuckles, all the grooves in your palms. Your life line is disturbingly short, if you believe that sort of thing." He lifted up, encouraging Azix's fingers to drag his pants down and expose the first strands of crimson hair at his groin. "But your love line is deep. I assume you keep your nails so short for practical purposes?"

Az slipped his fingers under the waistband and across Rye's hips, loosening his pants and easing them down an inch at a time, enjoying the slow reveal of toned muscle under soft red skin. He pulled them away from his belly to let his cock peek up past the band, and Rye shivered when his erection was exposed to cooler air. "Too many ragged edges on a lightsaber, armor, supply crate. Too easy to get an infection from a torn nail out in the field."

"So many concerns I never would have thought about," Rye murmured, leaning down to kiss him again, and then again, sucking on his lower lip and sliding his tongue against it. "I want to hear all your stories. I want to go out there with you and see everything."

Az sighed and sank into kissing him, one hand slipping into his hair. "You will soon. 'Fraid there's not much to see out there right now."

Rye smiled and nuzzled him. "Ziost isn't my concern." He hooked his fingers under Azix's pants and tugged. "Please?"

Shivering at the thought of what his enthusiastically curious lover intended to do to him, Az nodded and lifted his hips so Rye could pull the flannel down. He flushed at the way his cock bobbed when it was freed, dark and slick at the tip. Rye took him in hand, watching his face, and gave him a slow, firm stroke that made him arch and groan in relief.

"I need you to talk to me while I do this," he murmured, tugging at the foreskin and watching his slit bead with precum. "Tell me what you want, what you like."

That was a tall order, because Az was quickly losing the capacity for words. He squeezed Rye's hip and knotted his hand in his hair, dragging him back in for more kisses, trying to express what he needed that way – not just stimulation but affection, an effort at connection that went beyond physical pleasure. "Harder," he managed to whisper against Rye's mouth before arching up to seal them together, thrusting his tongue against his lover's and tasting spice and chocolate.

Rye squeezed, gripping his shaft tight and keeping that slow motion that pulled droplets of precum up from his balls with each shuddering stroke. Az lost himself in kissing him, thrusting up against his hand, pulling Rye down so he could rub his balls against the folds bunched against the root of his lover's cock. He failed at giving feedback until Rye started prompting him, whispering between kisses, asking whether he liked it higher or lower, working the foreskin around his head or touching it directly, sliding pressure along the vein, fingers circling against the glans. Azix's voice began to crack as he gasped and hitched under Rye's touch, melting slowly into the couch, hips rocking steadily upward, dissolving into the bliss of Rye's focused attention.

What he wanted had never been so important to anyone, but that was a line of thought he didn't want to chase. Not when Rye was pulling away from his mouth, wiggling down his thighs, bending, drawing his cock upward….

He might have cum on the spot if Rye had taken his cockhead into his mouth. Luckily, Rye started lower, kissing the root of his shaft where the skin drew into a wrinkled V and loosened to accommodate his ball sack. He took slow breaths, and Az wondered how he perceived scent, whether the musk gathered there could have the same intoxicating effect on him that the scent of Rye's hair had on Azix. His thumb worked against his foreskin, rubbing it over his tip as Rye tested the pliability of the skin, sucking it into his mouth, rubbing his tongue over the soft globes that shifted under the surface.

Azix spread his legs as wide as he could, arched his back, and reached above his head to tangle his hands in the padded loop Rye had left for him.

Seeing his surrender, Rye lifted his head and dragged his tongue through the smear of precum that covered his slit. "You like that? Is it good?"

"OH," Az groaned, toes curling at even that light, teasing touch. "N-not… not there, not yet, I'll…." He couldn't say it out loud, but Rye's smile said he understood.

"If you cum now, will you be too sensitive for me to keep at it?" he asked, cupping and squeezing Az's balls almost bruisingly hard with his other hand.

Az gave a long, open-mouthed groan, thighs falling apart in a silent plea for mercy. "OH… Rye, tug a little, right at the … YES…." His head tipped back in ecstasy as Rye worked his sack, kneading his balls in his hand, pulling gently but firmly at the root to add the teasing threat of pressure. His other hand slid down to the lower half of his shaft and worked him in short, slow strokes, squeezing firmly, like he was trying to milk his seed up into his shaft.

"Oh, Azrahix," Rye whispered, watching him dissolve into gasps and broken moans. "That's it, that's what you like…." He rolled his wrist, twisting ever-so-slightly with the rise of his hand, devouring his Jedi's reactions with naked avarice.

"Ry," Az groaned, shuddering under him. "I'm… oh fuck…!"

"I'm barely getting started!" Rye almost pouted, but he let it go when Azix whimpered, bending to kiss the head of his cock. "Shhh, don't worry. I can work you up for another round." He pushed his tongue under Az's foreskin and rubbed it across his slit, then wrapped his mouth around his cockhead and sucked hard.

Azix's body bent like a drawn bow, arching up hard as he came with a choked scream. Rye kept sucking on the tip, making him keen desperately and writhe under him as he spilled thick and hot over his tongue. He was forced to let go of his balls and press his hand to his chest, rubbing the base of his throat soothingly, holding him down as well as he could while he finished dragging out his orgasm. /I've got you,/ he whispered into Azix's mind. /You're all right. Relax and let it happen./

This wasn't like the previous time. Letting Rye have total control was hard, and the way he slowed down and teased him along that edge made him desperate. But just as he was beginning to think he should let go of the strap and make him stop so he could breathe, Rye's mouth slid further down, tongue wrapping around his shaft, swallowing him in and dragging his mouth all the way up his shaft from the root. Fireworks burst behind his eyes. He arched hard, his cry trailing off to a wheeze, then slumped, eyes rolled back, head swimming.

Rye kept sucking him for a few more seconds, but then he realized Azix was spent and let him be, crawling up his body and snuggling down against his chest. Az couldn't find the coordination needed to let go of the strap, so he just closed his eyes and sank into his lover's warmth and the deep, black throb of satisfaction that waited on the edge of unconsciousness.

A few minutes later, Rye nuzzled under his chin. "Az?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

Azix did his best impression of a dead thing, and Rye snorted, laying his head back on his chest. "Bloody typical," he muttered, and settled in to doze.