Thrawn smiled to himself at Faro's play on words. The thought of Faro sketching Thrawn in her imagination, replicating the intimacy Thrawn had felt with his hands on her flimsi form, warmed him. He suspected the tips of his cheeks may have already turned purple, but he trusted Faro not to notice.
…Or rather, not to comment. Faro had always been unusually perceptive of his moods.
He crossed his arms, laying his hands on his hips as he grasped the edges of his undershirt fabric. As Thrawn pulled the black undershirt over his head, he lost eye contact with Faro.
A shame. He wished he could have seen her face during that sharp intake of breath she gave. By the time Thrawn had tossed the article of clothing aside, any emotion that could have prompted the breath had fled Faro's features. A missed opportunity for a facial rendering.
As Faro had minutes before, Thrawn bent over to remove his shoes and socks. Faro returned her underwear to her body during that time. When Thrawn looked up to meet her eyes, he realized she had paused redressing for the time being. She was more interested in uncovering Thrawn than she was covering herself.
Now, for the reveal of the greatest interest to Faro. Thrawn undid the loops of his belt one by one, moving slowly to build his voyeur's anticipation.
Thrawn threw his belt aside, crimson eyes never leaving Faro's brown ones. He watched as a pronounced swallow traveled down Faro's neck. He held the moment just long enough for Faro to open her mouth, as if to ask him to keep going.
Before any words could leave her mouth, Thrawn moved a hand to the fly of his pants. In the tantalizing silence of his quarters, the sound of his zipper opening filled the room with its buzz. As the button of his trousers popped open, Faro's eyes and ears fixated on Thrawn's crotch. She blinked as Thrawn's white pants fell to the ground, nearly groaning when Thrawn stopped to pick them up and fold them away.
Thrawn hadn't been prepared for how fun this was. He'd been so eager to draw Faro that he'd paid no mind to his end of the bargain. For all that Thrawn occupied Faro's attention in their work, he'd never held it so completely as he did in this moment.
He slid one thumb past the elastic of his boxers, teasing Faro as he tugged the fabric away from his hip. A drop of sweat formed on Faro's brow even as the glint of impatience reached her eyes.
Thrawn dropped his boxers to the floor with no advanced warning. As the last salvo of fabric fled its position on his body, Faro's jaw dropped at the sight of Thrawn fully naked.
To Thrawn's understanding, his reproductive anatomy varied little from a human male's. His height and stature ensured his organs were proportionally larger than most other men, but the species-specific difference was that his testicles did not hang as low as humans' did. For whatever reason, Chiss had evolved better protection for their sperm containment units. His testicles stuck to the inside of his thigh, one on each side.
All of Thrawn's comparisons were hypothetical, of course. As Vanto had once said, all of Thrawn's prior dick measuring contests were of the metaphorical variety. Only now did he suspect he was being weighed against Faro's prior partners.
"Have I satisfied your private speculations, Commodore?"
Faro blushed at the mention of her rank. Thrawn using it in such an intimate setting broke her focus on his genital area. Her eyes traveled up Thrawn's body, laying over on his pecs before reaching his eyes once again. "It's… a bit different, but not as dramatic as some of the guesses I've heard."
"Oh?" Thrawn's mouth twitched in amusement. "Care to share some guesses with me?"
Faro laughed. "Well… some aquatic species have tentacles, sir. I believe you once said your glowing eyes were an adaptation from the Chiss's semi aquatic days."
"It is merely a theory that Chiss evolved out of water. Last I heard, no one had confirmed the exact evolutionary path my species took to reach our current form."
"Well…" Faro gulped, as if working up the courage to speak. "The path evolution took for you has led to a… a stunning result."
"You are pleased I lack tentacles, then?" Thrawn joked.
"I don't know if 'pleased' is the right word. It's just… easier to imagine you as you are than it is to think you may have tentacles writhing in your drawers during work." Faro realized the implications of what she said a moment too late. "Not that I consider such things during working hours, of course."
Thrawn laughed. The sound cut through the awkwardness in the air, giving Faro the chance to smile as well.
She looked back down at his chest. "You… have more scar tissue than I do, sir."
"Indeed." Thrawn told Faro the story of when he took blaster shots to the chest. He declined to mention the Jedi who had been present, but left in the fact it had happened during the Clone Wars.
"You fought in the Clone Wars, sir?"
"I did, however briefly. My people lived too far away to take a formal stance in the conflict."
"I was a teenager when the war broke out. My father fought for a Republic-aligned world, though. His service inspired my own."
Faro had alluded to this fact before. Her father had been a foot soldier for a planetary defense force for all her childhood days. Sadly, he had died before her enrollment in Imperial officer school could begin. "Your service may have begun as a tribute, but I see the way it has become part of your inner world. You have a warrior's spirit, Faro. It emanates from within you even now."
She smiled at Thrawn's words, but did not respond. She leaned against the edge of Thrawn's bed, her long legs brushing up against the sides of his meticulously folded sheets. Her hands flitted from the fabric to her skin as if not sure where they ought to reside.
Thrawn walked over to stand next to her. Were they to sit down, Faro would be at the foot of his bed and he in its center. "Does your warrior's spirit have an adventurous side at this time?"
Faro blinked. "What do you mean, sir?"
"I know how I intend to commemorate our work here today. Your portrait this evening shall be joined by other moments in time." Thrawn's right hand wrapped around an invisible pencil. He thought of running his tool over her body again and again and again. The act spouted fresh happiness into a passion that had recently run dry. "How will you remember tonight, Commodore? Will you seek to forget it?"
"I'm not sure I could forget this, sir. The Chimaera's cantina doesn't have anything that strong." She shifted, wincing at the fabric against her bare thighs. "I don't want to forget, either."
Good. "Is there anything you want to remember that you have yet to experience, then?" Thrawn finally shifted his weight into a sitting position on the bed. Faro unconsciously followed.
She held a wavering hand over Thrawn's chest, just above the network of white covering his largest scar. "May I feel your skin, sir?"
He pushed her hand onto his chest with his own. "You may."
Her fingers traced lightly over his form, sketching an outline before filling in details. Unlike humans, Thrawn had limited hair on his body. This made his skin smooth, save for the sites of his previous injuries. The network of scars in bloom across his chest didn't even connect to the scars running up his back, nor the scars of blades that had sliced across his legs.
Thrawn knew humans had the option to remove scars with their bacta healing tanks, but Thrawn could not see himself doing the same. Scars were a lesson to warriors like him. They told a story of close scrapes and near failures. Scars taught Thrawn what he must do in the future to avoid death, the truest form of defeat.
It thrilled Thrawn to know Faro also kept her scars. Even before meeting him, she had shared his philosophy as a warrior.
Still on his chest, Faro's touch deepened in pressure. As she massaged his shoulders and pecs, she let the faintest scratch of her fingernails enter the mix. Thrawn lowered his eyes to half closed, enjoying the marveling touch of another.
Outside combat or rescue, Thrawn had not touched another living being since exile. His penciled creations of bodies were the only things he stroked.
"Have you ever done a self portrait?" Faro asked suddenly, snapping Thrawn out of relaxation.
Thrawn blinked. "I have not."
"You should. It would be… a fascinating thing, to see how you view yourself in art."
Self-reflection was important for a warrior. It allowed them to understand where flaws in their strategies originated and how to correct them. It was why Thrawn had taken up art to begin with.
Yet even though his art had begun as self-reflection, Thrawn used it exclusively to examine others. He would stare directly into a system's sun before looking in a mirror. Thrawn knew what his problems were. He simply refused to see them as problems.
Rather than tell Faro this, Thrawn caught her off guard with a request. "Would you draw me, Commodore?"
She laughed. "You don't want that, sir. I wouldn't do you any justice."
"And what makes you think that?"
"Unlike you," she poked him in the rib, "I can't draw."
"Yet you have the hands of a sculptor," Thrawn asserted. "I feel it in the way you touch me."
"It might be, um, hedonistic for me to sculpt a life size replica of your body, sir." Faro bit her lip as she smiled. "I don't know if that's a proper way to bring art into the world."
"Why not? I took great pleasure in capturing your image on the page." His hand brushed against the strap of the bra she had recently put back on. "May I see you again tonight?" May I touch you this time?
Faro nodded in response to both his questions. She let Thrawn remove her bra once again as she kicked her panties away for good. Bare once again, she changed how she was sitting to limit wet spots on Thrawn's sheets.
The shift in position did not go unnoticed to Thrawn. After getting permission, Thrawn massaged Faro's chest the way she had his. Though it was a medium he had yet to try, he imagined holding in his hands two balls of clay. He imagined kneading each one into the pointedly round shape of Faro's breasts.
As he touched her, she continued her tactile exploration of him. The pair laid on their sides across the bed, facing one another. For all Thrawn's fantasies about art, he suspected more concrete thoughts were running through Faro's mind.
He imagined cording the clay along her stomach, capturing the ripple of muscle just beneath the surface. He imagined smoothing along the edges of her labia, just as his hands did on their trek across Faro's body. The thought of finding clay that matched Faro's skin excited him in a primal way.
He imagined measuring the distance he needed for the width of her gaping wetness, though he didn't measure it at that moment. Instead, he used instruments he predicted would match in circumference. First, a finger. He massaged the interior walls before finding a bundle of nerves that sent Faro alight in excitement.
Second, two fingers. He continued to massage the pliant clay beneath him as it writhed into a magnificent form. The lubrication was perfect for smoothing out bumps in the medium.
Faro's pants gave way to moans as the pressure built between her legs. While it was Thrawn's first time touching a human woman, he remembered the principles he'd learned in academy from a divine Chiss female; bring the woman to orgasm first. As soon as she's come by your hand, she'll be far more eager for something larger to brush against her cervix. Over time, Thrawn had come to enjoy the unraveling of partners by his hand almost as much as he enjoyed the feeling of intercourse.
Still facing each other, Thrawn rolled Faro onto her back and climbed over her sweating body. Her moans grew ever louder as her hips began to shake. Natural lubricant coated Thrawn's fingers as Faro reached her climax.
Thrawn continued his assault on her bundle of nerves until Faro pulled his hand away with her own. She held him in place as she caught her breath, then gave him a bleary smile.
"I… I needed that. Thank you."
"Of course." Thrawn pulled his hand away to gesture at his erect member. "May I?"
Faro nodded eagerly. She spread her legs wider and bucked her hips up, mad with preparation for Thrawn's newly uncovered secret to show her all its properties.
As exciting as Faro's scrambling made him, Thrawn didn't thrust in right away. "Do you require any contraception?"
She shook her head. "Empire… tied my tubes years ago. I'm ready."
That was all Thrawn needed to know. His last inhibitions gone, he thrust slowly into Faro. Still wet and open from her previous orgasm, Thrawn's member slid in with no resistance. Faro's body welcomed Thrawn like it was an extension of her own.
Her openness allowed Thrawn to accelerate and intensify his thrusts. As he entered Faro again and again, Thrawn felt all his restraint around humans leaving his body. For the first time since leaving the Ascendancy, he felt wholly connected to another living being.
Nothing separated the artist from his art. Nothing separated Thrawn from Faro.
As he built towards Faro's second orgasm (and his own release), Thrawn did the one thing he and Faro had yet to share with each other. He bent down and captured Faro's lips in his own. She granted him immediate access, letting his tongue penetrate her mouth while his member penetrated her below.
The vibrations of her elated cry rubbed against Thrawn's own grunt of release. He felt his ropes of semen splash the walls of her insides. The two rode out their pleasure together, then detached one section at a time.
First, their mouths disconnected, leaving a trail of saliva connecting them. Faro severed the connection with a wipe of her hand. Next, Thrawn pulled his deflated member out of her vagina, letting his release come pouring out. Had he planned ahead, Thrawn would have put a towel beneath the both of them as they engaged in sexual congress. Now he had to change the sheets.
As Thrawn stripped the bed, Faro redressed herself with an urgency she'd lacked before. Once her rank plaque was again buttoned to her uniform, her professional stiffness had returned to the fore. "I must retire to my own quarters. Thank you, sir, for an… enlightening night."
"The pleasure was all mine, Commodore. Thank you for being such a willing model."
Faro left in a hurry. Thrawn continued to gather his clothes for washing, but he did not dress himself in sleepwear just yet. Not while his muse still lingered in the room.
At that moment, Thrawn reconsidered Faro's question about a self portrait. While Thrawn knew he would never sketch himself alone, he was open to the idea of a portrait with another. For the first time, he wanted to commit his own form to a page.
The memory of kissing Faro from above was one he could return to endlessly.
A/N's: So I decided to continue this fic in honor of the man who inspired it, draculard of Ao3. As anyone on Ao3 or Tumblr knows, he's going through a hard time at the moment. I wish I could offer more support at this time, but this site is hardly the venue for it.
Hope you enjoyed the fic, everyone!
