[he asked because he was worried the memories were from what's hidden inside the ship. he could say his relief is pragmatic; that he's glad to see the Captain take possession of a memory, that it helps to know there's a connection there. but the truth is, he is simply relieved to know that old memories can still conjure up some feeling. he knows now that when he's gone, hopefully four-hundred years in the future, the Captain will still remember this. him. and he can damn well make himself more memorable than any individual pain. he will never truly be able to outweigh the bad with the good, but at least he'll be remembered for his attempt to balance the scale.
...and, if all of this resolves with the Captain becoming someone new, who may not care to spend another four centuries with a skeletal fortune cookie, then at least he can be fondly remembered for this. he'd said he would do anything to bring the Captain back to himself. he hadn't really considered what that might entail, but a promise is a promise.
when he speaks, his voice is low, rough, with an edge of playfulness to hide his thoughts.]
This is your last chance to interrogate me before I become thoroughly distracted from my investigation.
[more selfish relief. talk is as dangerous as it is cheap, and the Captain's skin provides ample distraction.
he could snap his fingers and whisk them both away from clothes and the familiar trappings of the bridge, but he is a sucker for taking it slow. the Captain's ribbon tie first, the top two buttons of his shirt...]
I think we could use a change of scenery. Any requests? Besides anywhere with a bed and less clothing?
[he contemplates it as he finishes undoing his shirt buttons. he hasn't felt homesick in months, but the memories have brought sentimentality to the fore. he may not get to share the real thing with the Captain, but his memory is strong enough to bring a sample of it here.
he pushes gently, and the back of the couch is gone. instead of the familiar mess of the bridge or the room from the Midnight Hotel, there's long green grass cutting through a field of yellow flowers. sheer vertical cliffs draw off into the distance, towering 200 meters over a blue sea. for a moment, the sky is gray and misty, before clearing like a time-lapsed video.]
[he turns his head to observe the changes, eyes darting to take in every possible detail. reaches a hand out to trace a flower. somehow manages to not make a crack about roots.]
[he undoes the button under his hand before he's distracted again by the exposed skin of his belly and chest. he pushes the Captain's shirt and jacket off of his shoulders, biting lightly at the skin as it's exposed.]
Just be careful not to give me ideas. Otherwise, the next time you come to visit me might become very embarrassing for you.
And of course, you, the man who blushes like a ripe tomato at the smallest public display of affection, would be entirely unruffled if called out.
[he sinks against him, his own shirt and jacket melting away with the desire to feel the Captain against his bones. he wants to remember this -- the heat of his skin, the way he squirms under the pressure of his teeth, the sounds he makes...]
Ava knows more about what's going on around here than most of us. [he nips his earlobe, hands dragging across bare skin to reach the waistband of the Captain's pants.] But I don't want to talk about her right now. I just want to feel you.
I'm not that bad... [actually he's worse. a lot worse.
but, his wounded pride will have to take a backseat for now. for now, he lets out a quiet moan and eagerly presses up against him.] Mm, already so wet for you...
[his voice is an amused purr, pulling at the fabric in hand until his pants are caught between their tangled knees. it gives him the freedom to probe his fingers through the wet patch of pubic hair between the Captain's legs.]
Mmm... so you are. But you know... [one digit rubs at his clit.] I still want to hear you beg for it.
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[he could say that the pain makes the nice memories all the sweeter, or that it can be turned into motivation to change.
he moves back to the couch.]
I don't know if enough time can pass for it to ever stop aching. But it's part of you, whether you've forgotten it or not.
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You sound like a fortune cookie.
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Oh, shut up. The point I'm getting at is... I love you. All of you. Including those painful parts.
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And I love a fortune cookie.
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[look he's going to try to turn it into a flirtatious comment, even if it falls flat on its cookie face.]
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Anything particular coming to mind?
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... Maybe.
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...and, if all of this resolves with the Captain becoming someone new, who may not care to spend another four centuries with a skeletal fortune cookie, then at least he can be fondly remembered for this. he'd said he would do anything to bring the Captain back to himself. he hadn't really considered what that might entail, but a promise is a promise.
when he speaks, his voice is low, rough, with an edge of playfulness to hide his thoughts.]
This is your last chance to interrogate me before I become thoroughly distracted from my investigation.
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cw: this is the part when things get spicy
he could snap his fingers and whisk them both away from clothes and the familiar trappings of the bridge, but he is a sucker for taking it slow. the Captain's ribbon tie first, the top two buttons of his shirt...]
I think we could use a change of scenery. Any requests? Besides anywhere with a bed and less clothing?
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he pushes gently, and the back of the couch is gone. instead of the familiar mess of the bridge or the room from the Midnight Hotel, there's long green grass cutting through a field of yellow flowers. sheer vertical cliffs draw off into the distance, towering 200 meters over a blue sea. for a moment, the sky is gray and misty, before clearing like a time-lapsed video.]
Hmmm. That's better.
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It's beautiful.
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he pointedly keeps his sockets directed at the Captain as he skates his fingers up the center of his chest.]
It is.
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You're the worst...
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That I am, and you love it. [his hands dip to the fastenings of the Captain's pants.] You love it enough not to complain about the lack of a bed.
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[like, by a sheep, or maybe a dolphin. it's the thought that counts.]
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[he undoes the button under his hand before he's distracted again by the exposed skin of his belly and chest. he pushes the Captain's shirt and jacket off of his shoulders, biting lightly at the skin as it's exposed.]
Just be careful not to give me ideas. Otherwise, the next time you come to visit me might become very embarrassing for you.
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You say "embarrassing for me," I hear "mortifying for everyone else." [a breathless laugh] I'm in.
[a pause] Besides, Ava's already figured it out.
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[he sinks against him, his own shirt and jacket melting away with the desire to feel the Captain against his bones. he wants to remember this -- the heat of his skin, the way he squirms under the pressure of his teeth, the sounds he makes...]
Ava knows more about what's going on around here than most of us. [he nips his earlobe, hands dragging across bare skin to reach the waistband of the Captain's pants.] But I don't want to talk about her right now. I just want to feel you.
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but, his wounded pride will have to take a backseat for now. for now, he lets out a quiet moan and eagerly presses up against him.] Mm, already so wet for you...
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[his voice is an amused purr, pulling at the fabric in hand until his pants are caught between their tangled knees. it gives him the freedom to probe his fingers through the wet patch of pubic hair between the Captain's legs.]
Mmm... so you are. But you know... [one digit rubs at his clit.] I still want to hear you beg for it.
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