His breath comes in a fast puff of relief, and he tips easily at the suggestion, and he lets his eyes almost close as he rests with his forehead against Fives'. He answers in the same language, roughened with his accent, and he's a bit past conversational by now, even if he doesn't have quite the deftness in it that the admiral gave him automatically in English.
"You can't be too much for me." He's as sure of this as he was that Rosethorn couldn't evict him. He is too vast and too obsessive. Fives could not be at all himself, and not have Jedao want him, need him like air and more than steady ground. You could be too little comes the corollary immediately to mind, small enough for Jedao to crush in his wake, and neither of them ever recover. But there's no way to say it without ripping out the foundations from everything he wants Fives to build up. Fives would only ever, ever hear you are not enough.
"I've been a monster for so long. What if I want. To be something good? I want to be good for you, Fives. That would make me happy. Please let me."
"Oh, cyar'ika," he breathes, and his fingers slide down a little again, to tighten at the nape of Jedao's neck, to hold him the way he learned to hold a brother for reassurance so many years ago; at one of the only gaps in their armor large enough for a hand to press. "You are something good. You are... you're the best. The best thing that's ever happened to me. There's nothing that can change that."
And it's absolutely true. He loves Clark, he does. Loves his strength and his calm patience, his quick wit, his generosity. And he's shallow enough, self-aware enough at least in this way, to admit that he also loves his love. But it's Jedao who centers his orbit. Who's opened his world to all the possibilities he and his brothers have been denied and helped him understand they deserve them. And it's Jedao who he can't imagine living without anymore.
"Can... can I kiss you?" It's barely audible, and he's so worried that's selfishness again, but he wants it so badly, and... maybe Jedao does too. "Just one, if... if it wouldn't hurt."
"I want to," he says, slightly anguished - it might hurt a little, far less than not kissing him, and yet - "But I need. I need get this right, before I can. Fives - the man I was, in the flood, that other Mikodez was the best thing that ever happened to him. He still owned him, used him as an attack dog for twenty years - but he took him out of a place he was being tortured, and let him rest and - have light, and pet his head sometimes. And for him, that was the best thing.
He swallows, hard.
"I know I'm not - that, I know. But the best thing doesn't mean nothing he did to me was wrong or that I didn't deserve better than a keeper who preferred me unwounded. And you deserve better than, than a partner who makes you scared you're too difficult. Who makes you feel selfish for ever mentioning things you want and don't want. Who can get away with anything just because he saved you from the worse life you had before. So if -"
He shudders, full-bodied, a ripple that starts where Fives' hand is still on the back of his neck.
"If you can just. Try to remember that, that I don't want that, I want to be better than that - then you should. Push me."
Then you should kiss me, he means, the fingers Fives directed into his hair gripping tightly, tugging Fives just slightly forward in the tiny space between them, a wordless plea set atop the rest.
That I want to keeps him steady as Jedao explains why he can't. Why he's scared. Makes Fives want to find Mikodez, any version of him, and hurt him. Want to shake Jedao and tell him he's not just not that, he's not anything like that at all. That he's good. That he's given him so much, made his world so much wider, made him so much... stronger. Braver. That it's not just better by comparison to worse, but that it's good in so many ways he'd never have been able to imagine. Just because he's broken in so many ways, doesn't understand so many things about how people or the world work, doesn't mean Jedao's doing anything wrong.
But it's not about Jedao being wrong, or bad, it's about him wanting more, and better. For both of them. His eyes slip half shut at the feel of Jedao's fingers tightening in his short-cropped hair, and he runs over Jedao's plea in his head as he closes the distance between them. Push me. Jedao can't kiss him, but... push me.
He tips his head just a little, his own fingers a gentle curve around the nape of Jedao's neck, and slots their mouths together. Not chaste, not even close, but soft and sweet. A place to start from.
He makes a soft, ruined sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper; his half-braced body slumps back onto Fives like someone cut his strings.
Please let this not be wrong, he begs - anyone, anything, the schizophrenic Force and the suicidal Ashhawk, the stranger's gods he sacrificed to with Callisto for novelty and luck, maybe the Admiral if the weird fucker is watching. Fives kissed him, that's a yes to the question, and he wants, he wants it to be okay so badly.
Please, he thinks, kisses softly and desperately back.
All Fives can think as Jedao collapses against him is that he loves him so much, that he can't imagine losing this... and it's possibly the most terrifying thought he's ever had. He's known every relationship he's ever had, every friend, every lover, every confidante, was limited, finite, something that he would have to be able to lose, and survive, because they're disposable, they're not meant to last. He's never thought in terms of plans for the future, of anything beyond now, or maybe tomorrow.
He almost didn't survive losing Echo, he doesn't know if he could survive losing Jedao, and he doesn't know how to deal with that. So he pushes the thought away, curls big hands into Jedao's hair, and the fabric of his shirt at the small of his back. Holds him close, but almost reverent, and kisses him like there is absolutely nothing in the galaxy past this moment, here and now, and the two of them together in it.
Jedao would survive losing Fives, he's quite sure, just as poorly as he survived dying himself, and probably worse. He'd keep going, keep fighting - he doesn't know how to stop - but he'd never be whole and never be well. It is terrifying when he slips and lets himself think about it, or cannot avoid thinking about it, it is raw mad heartbreaking panic. But mostly he doesn't.
Has he ever been kissed like this? Probably once or twice, by a would-be assassin, but not by someone who meant it.
The part of him that thought he should give this up has been well under seige from the moment it redeclared hostilities. He can't keep remembering why he should or why he shouldn't; all he can feel is Fives' sturdy hands, his warm bulk, the unbearable fierce tenderness of his mouth. He keens softly into the kiss, back curving, yearning, hands clinging.
Fives bucks up at the keening whine that seems caught at the back of Jedao's throat, at the way Jedao curves into him, clings to him, feels like his whole body is begging for this. He's not actually hard, not yet, but that doesn't stop the reflex, and he tugs lightly at Jedao's hair as he changes the angle slightly, so he can lick deeper into his mouth, tease at his tongue, feel like he's tasting his sounds.
He never had this before the barge, never had the time or opportunity to explore and savor, like all the rest of his life sex had to be quick and efficient, and it had to be hidden and furtive as well. Just lying here with Jedao's weight on top of him, splaying his big hand wide over the space between his shoulderblades, holding him there and kissing him 'til he's breathless, then nipping gently at the angle of his jaw or the soft jut of his bottom lip, then going back to kissing him again, is not a hardship. It's a revelation.
Jedao shivers and whimpers, wriggles on top of him out of a simple excess of emotion and sensation, not knowing how else to deal with it. He never tries to squirm away, tilts his chin obligingly to encourage every exploration. He jolts a little when Fives bites along his jawline, breath coming in softer, shallow gasps.
He hadn't meant it to be more than this, just kissing and comfort; hadn't meant to push farther so soon. But the sounds Jedao's making, the way he's squirming on top of him, is more than his currently overtaxed patience and self control can take.
He sets his teeth to the tender skin below the angle of Jedao's jaw and nips hard enough to leave a mark, then sucks at the spot, drawing a warm bloom if blood to the surface of his skin. He's beautiful, perfect, and Fives can't resist telling him so on ragged, gasping breaths as he slides his hand down without thinking to the curve of Jedao's ass and rocks urgently up into him. He wants to hear every noise Jedao can make, and he wants to feel him while he does it.
He cries out at the bite, a sharp shocked little ah, squeezes his eyes shut against the soft babble of praise. He shifts enough to hide his face against the crook of Fives' neck when he has a chance, shuddering and twitching as Fives rocks up against him.
"Fives," he begs, a rough urgent noise, and he means please but can't say it, certainly can't specify. He's shaking very slightly; he feels like he's going to fly apart soon, with too much that he wants and too little to ground him.
He can't resist that reaction, can't even pretend to try, and he tugs Jedao's head back with the grip in his hair as he moves farther down Jedao's neck, nips sharply at the straining tendon there and worries at it with his teeth before sucking again. There's no way it won't leave a mark, and there's something in him that's possibly unhealthily pleased at the idea. And all the while he still has one big hand curved over Jedao's ass, pulling him down at the same time that he ruts up against him, rough and urgent, murmuring praise and endearments in every language he knows.
The sting of Fives' hand in his hair helps, the fierce possessive bites help. But -
Fives feels amazing against him, and Jedao groans uselessly, helplessly, his hips want to match rhythm, want to urge Fives on, grinding and riding, and that's a cliff in his head that makes him skitter hard away, with no idea how deep or sheer it actually is. He's only half hearing Fives' mumbled words and he still can't tell if they make him feel better or worse or possibly both at once. But the rest is so wonderful, and he wants so badly - he doesn't want to stop, he just wants it to be different and he can't - he can't -
(If he had one more once of self-awareness, this would be ironic.)
"Fives," he gasps, growls, repeatedly starts, because maybe if he can just get words out of his mouth he can manage to ask - "Fives. Roll us over."
He doesn't have to ask twice, Fives wants it so badly, and he's moving almost before Jedao gets the last word out. Rolling them back towards the wall so they don't fall off the narrow bed, then pinning Jedao with his weight. He braces one forearm next to Jedao's head, where he can still keep a hand in his hair, and uses the other hand to reach down and pull one of Jedao's legs up, so he can settle fully between his thighs and rut down against him.
"Cyar'ika. So kriffing perfect for me," he murmurs against Jedao's lips, his jaw, voice coming out cracked and urgent and strained. He nips hard at Jedao's earlobe and then again at the angle of his jaw, then drags his teeth along Jedao's stubbled jawline before slotting their mouths together again, licking in deep and filthy and almost desperate. He just... he wants so much.
As soon as he's on his back, Fives' weight pressing over him, Jedao's whole body goes easy and loose, just like he did when Fives' flood self grabbed Jedao's hair, only moreso, relief and affection compounding the sudden submission. All the tension sluices off of him, and the noise he makes when Fives moves his leg is deep and hungry and wanton.
It's so easy, suddenly, to let himself be arranged, to just enjoy the way Fives's body feels grinding against him, and if his own hips jerk and twitch with desire, it doesn't matter, pinned as he is. Fives will feel it but no one can prove it, no one has to know. He gasps and moans for every bite, opens for Fives' tongue with a languid, sensuous welcome.
The change is so abrupt and so intense that it startles Fives into immobility for just a fraction of a second, and when he moves again it's stuttering at first. Only for a moment, though, before he's sinking into the perfection of it, tugging at his hair to move his head where he wants it, rocking down with more urgency every time he feels even the faintest jerk and twitch of Jedao's hips in response, giving in to the urge to work his way down Jedao's throat, nudge the collar of his shirt aside, and bite a mark into his skin there, just above his collarbone.
He loves the way Jedao gasps and moans every time he feels his teeth, loves the way his hips stutter up when he grinds against him just right. Loves everything about this, about knowing Jedao wants it and him just as much as he wants him in return. He hitches Jedao's leg up just a little farther, gets a perfect angle for long, dragging thrusts into the cradle of his hips, friction and pressure and the perfect feeling of Jedao beneath and against him.
Fives catches his lips again, kisses him messy and slick and deep, then draws away just enough to rest their foreheads together in a completely different kind of kiss. "Can I-" he whispers roughly against his lips. "I... is it... is okay if-" He kisses him again, short and quick. "Can I come?" He doesn't want to ruin this, doesn't want to freak Jedao out, but Force he wants this so much.
Please he thinks, and can't say, quaking slightly at the suggestion, leg hitching a little tighter around Fives. He pulls Fives into another kiss, fiercer and hungrier than he has been, just letting Fives explore his mouth. Jedao kisses him again, and then again, whines desperately in his throat, and doesn't say no.
Just the lack of a no wouldn't have been enough, not with how skittish Jedao's been for so long, but the way he pulls him in, kisses him so kriffing fiercely... that's enough. That's more than enough. Fives groans deep in his chest, curls his fingers so tightly around Jedao's thigh he might be bruising him through his trousers, and rocks against him harder, more urgently.
He wants Jedao to come to, wants it so kriffing desperately, but he can't ask for that, it feels like too much. So he kisses him harder, bites at his lip again, chasing another of those soft cries, then sets his teeth at the soft spot beneath Jedao's ear as he feels the heat building at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, and bites down hard as the tension suddenly snaps and he shudders to a halt above Jedao, every muscle drawn quivering tight as he makes a sticky mess of his pants.
Fives gets his cry, longer and sharper and louder this time; the bite is harsher, the stimulation of knowing, feeling Fives reach climax on top of him more intense, and Jedao himself less inhibited. He arches up as much as he can manage, in the narrow crush of space under Fives' body, and he makes a soft shuddering noise, distant kin to a sob, after Fives finishes. It's a sound full of complicated yearning - the knowledge of what just happened sits warm and golden in his chest, and he's so hard now, but he can't - can't imagine reaching for relief and not grasping complication and guilt instead.
Fives holds himself so close to perfectly still for a long moment, his only movement the fine tremors of his muscles and shallow, panting breaths before he let's himself settle, slowly, more solidly on Jedao. And feels him still hot and so hard against him. It draws a choked off noise uncomfortably close to a sob from him, and he drops his face to Jedao's shoulder.
"You won't... you won't let me, will you?" he asks in a hoarse, broken whisper, the hand still at Jedao's thigh making an immediately aborted move up before he just lets it fall.
"I. I think I shouldn't. Risk it." He swallows, strokes a hand through Fives' hair. "But. Stay? For a little while. Anyway."
This closeness is more important than orgasm; he doesn't want the moment to end so abruptly, not when it was so sweet a moment ago, not when it still feels so fragile.
Fives turns his face into Jedao's neck, still flushed and shuddering, and tells himself that it doesn't matter. That it's progress, a step in the right direction; that Jedao had wanted it and enjoyed it and he's not using him, no matter what it feels like. It mostly works.
"The morning you touched me," he whispers into Fives' hair, and for all that they wake up every other day in a pile, there is only one morning he could possibly mean. "As soon as you left, I - I imagined something like this. I don't think it took me five seconds."
Muffling himself in their pillows, stroking himself hard and desperate to the idea of Fives holding him, getting off on him, in several meanings of the words, instead of just the metaphorical one that had been true at the time. "Fire and ash, the smell is even stronger this time."
He shivers at the image that conjures, and his breath shudders out wetly against the skin of Jedao's neck. He wants to see it, but this isn't about him. Not right now. "I can... I can leave," he offers quietly, not moving to look at Jedao. "If you want to... take care of things?" He doesn't want to, but he will if that's what it takes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"You can't be too much for me." He's as sure of this as he was that Rosethorn couldn't evict him. He is too vast and too obsessive. Fives could not be at all himself, and not have Jedao want him, need him like air and more than steady ground. You could be too little comes the corollary immediately to mind, small enough for Jedao to crush in his wake, and neither of them ever recover. But there's no way to say it without ripping out the foundations from everything he wants Fives to build up. Fives would only ever, ever hear you are not enough.
"I've been a monster for so long. What if I want. To be something good? I want to be good for you, Fives. That would make me happy. Please let me."
no subject
And it's absolutely true. He loves Clark, he does. Loves his strength and his calm patience, his quick wit, his generosity. And he's shallow enough, self-aware enough at least in this way, to admit that he also loves his love. But it's Jedao who centers his orbit. Who's opened his world to all the possibilities he and his brothers have been denied and helped him understand they deserve them. And it's Jedao who he can't imagine living without anymore.
"Can... can I kiss you?" It's barely audible, and he's so worried that's selfishness again, but he wants it so badly, and... maybe Jedao does too. "Just one, if... if it wouldn't hurt."
no subject
He swallows, hard.
"I know I'm not - that, I know. But the best thing doesn't mean nothing he did to me was wrong or that I didn't deserve better than a keeper who preferred me unwounded. And you deserve better than, than a partner who makes you scared you're too difficult. Who makes you feel selfish for ever mentioning things you want and don't want. Who can get away with anything just because he saved you from the worse life you had before. So if -"
He shudders, full-bodied, a ripple that starts where Fives' hand is still on the back of his neck.
"If you can just. Try to remember that, that I don't want that, I want to be better than that - then you should. Push me."
Then you should kiss me, he means, the fingers Fives directed into his hair gripping tightly, tugging Fives just slightly forward in the tiny space between them, a wordless plea set atop the rest.
no subject
But it's not about Jedao being wrong, or bad, it's about him wanting more, and better. For both of them. His eyes slip half shut at the feel of Jedao's fingers tightening in his short-cropped hair, and he runs over Jedao's plea in his head as he closes the distance between them. Push me. Jedao can't kiss him, but... push me.
He tips his head just a little, his own fingers a gentle curve around the nape of Jedao's neck, and slots their mouths together. Not chaste, not even close, but soft and sweet. A place to start from.
no subject
Please let this not be wrong, he begs - anyone, anything, the schizophrenic Force and the suicidal Ashhawk, the stranger's gods he sacrificed to with Callisto for novelty and luck, maybe the Admiral if the weird fucker is watching. Fives kissed him, that's a yes to the question, and he wants, he wants it to be okay so badly.
Please, he thinks, kisses softly and desperately back.
no subject
He almost didn't survive losing Echo, he doesn't know if he could survive losing Jedao, and he doesn't know how to deal with that. So he pushes the thought away, curls big hands into Jedao's hair, and the fabric of his shirt at the small of his back. Holds him close, but almost reverent, and kisses him like there is absolutely nothing in the galaxy past this moment, here and now, and the two of them together in it.
no subject
Has he ever been kissed like this? Probably once or twice, by a would-be assassin, but not by someone who meant it.
The part of him that thought he should give this up has been well under seige from the moment it redeclared hostilities. He can't keep remembering why he should or why he shouldn't; all he can feel is Fives' sturdy hands, his warm bulk, the unbearable fierce tenderness of his mouth. He keens softly into the kiss, back curving, yearning, hands clinging.
no subject
He never had this before the barge, never had the time or opportunity to explore and savor, like all the rest of his life sex had to be quick and efficient, and it had to be hidden and furtive as well. Just lying here with Jedao's weight on top of him, splaying his big hand wide over the space between his shoulderblades, holding him there and kissing him 'til he's breathless, then nipping gently at the angle of his jaw or the soft jut of his bottom lip, then going back to kissing him again, is not a hardship. It's a revelation.
no subject
no subject
He sets his teeth to the tender skin below the angle of Jedao's jaw and nips hard enough to leave a mark, then sucks at the spot, drawing a warm bloom if blood to the surface of his skin. He's beautiful, perfect, and Fives can't resist telling him so on ragged, gasping breaths as he slides his hand down without thinking to the curve of Jedao's ass and rocks urgently up into him. He wants to hear every noise Jedao can make, and he wants to feel him while he does it.
no subject
"Fives," he begs, a rough urgent noise, and he means please but can't say it, certainly can't specify. He's shaking very slightly; he feels like he's going to fly apart soon, with too much that he wants and too little to ground him.
no subject
no subject
Fives feels amazing against him, and Jedao groans uselessly, helplessly, his hips want to match rhythm, want to urge Fives on, grinding and riding, and that's a cliff in his head that makes him skitter hard away, with no idea how deep or sheer it actually is. He's only half hearing Fives' mumbled words and he still can't tell if they make him feel better or worse or possibly both at once. But the rest is so wonderful, and he wants so badly - he doesn't want to stop, he just wants it to be different and he can't - he can't -
(If he had one more once of self-awareness, this would be ironic.)
"Fives," he gasps, growls, repeatedly starts, because maybe if he can just get words out of his mouth he can manage to ask - "Fives. Roll us over."
no subject
"Cyar'ika. So kriffing perfect for me," he murmurs against Jedao's lips, his jaw, voice coming out cracked and urgent and strained. He nips hard at Jedao's earlobe and then again at the angle of his jaw, then drags his teeth along Jedao's stubbled jawline before slotting their mouths together again, licking in deep and filthy and almost desperate. He just... he wants so much.
no subject
It's so easy, suddenly, to let himself be arranged, to just enjoy the way Fives's body feels grinding against him, and if his own hips jerk and twitch with desire, it doesn't matter, pinned as he is. Fives will feel it but no one can prove it, no one has to know. He gasps and moans for every bite, opens for Fives' tongue with a languid, sensuous welcome.
no subject
He loves the way Jedao gasps and moans every time he feels his teeth, loves the way his hips stutter up when he grinds against him just right. Loves everything about this, about knowing Jedao wants it and him just as much as he wants him in return. He hitches Jedao's leg up just a little farther, gets a perfect angle for long, dragging thrusts into the cradle of his hips, friction and pressure and the perfect feeling of Jedao beneath and against him.
Fives catches his lips again, kisses him messy and slick and deep, then draws away just enough to rest their foreheads together in a completely different kind of kiss. "Can I-" he whispers roughly against his lips. "I... is it... is okay if-" He kisses him again, short and quick. "Can I come?" He doesn't want to ruin this, doesn't want to freak Jedao out, but Force he wants this so much.
no subject
no subject
He wants Jedao to come to, wants it so kriffing desperately, but he can't ask for that, it feels like too much. So he kisses him harder, bites at his lip again, chasing another of those soft cries, then sets his teeth at the soft spot beneath Jedao's ear as he feels the heat building at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, and bites down hard as the tension suddenly snaps and he shudders to a halt above Jedao, every muscle drawn quivering tight as he makes a sticky mess of his pants.
no subject
Fives gets his cry, longer and sharper and louder this time; the bite is harsher, the stimulation of knowing, feeling Fives reach climax on top of him more intense, and Jedao himself less inhibited. He arches up as much as he can manage, in the narrow crush of space under Fives' body, and he makes a soft shuddering noise, distant kin to a sob, after Fives finishes. It's a sound full of complicated yearning - the knowledge of what just happened sits warm and golden in his chest, and he's so hard now, but he can't - can't imagine reaching for relief and not grasping complication and guilt instead.
no subject
"You won't... you won't let me, will you?" he asks in a hoarse, broken whisper, the hand still at Jedao's thigh making an immediately aborted move up before he just lets it fall.
no subject
"I. I think I shouldn't. Risk it." He swallows, strokes a hand through Fives' hair. "But. Stay? For a little while. Anyway."
This closeness is more important than orgasm; he doesn't want the moment to end so abruptly, not when it was so sweet a moment ago, not when it still feels so fragile.
no subject
no subject
Muffling himself in their pillows, stroking himself hard and desperate to the idea of Fives holding him, getting off on him, in several meanings of the words, instead of just the metaphorical one that had been true at the time. "Fire and ash, the smell is even stronger this time."
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)