The Interlude: Saren + Sparatus 2A/5
anonymous
January 6 2014, 12:34:32 UTC
Part 2A
It was a heavy thumping noise that woke Sparatus from the sleep he’d fallen into while lounging on his couch. Being the highest representative for his species other than the Primarch of Palaven was an exhausting avocation and more nights than not he dropped in places other than his bed. Waking up on his couch with a crick in his neck and stiff joints was nothing new, but being woken by someone actually knocking on his apartment door rather than paging the intercom or ringing the bell was uncommon. Of course, he’d been tired enough that he had probably slept through the quiet tones of a doorbell.
Sparatus pulled his weary frame off the cushions, the stiffness and discomfort reminding him of his age. He crossed through his living room and foyer to answer the door... where he found the last person he wanted to see gracing his threshold.
“What are you doing here?” He demanded of the pale turian standing in the hallway.
Saren Arterius met his eyes with some unknown expression. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?” Sparatus allowed distain to enter his tones to hide the spark of nervous confusion. Saren was not the type of man that made casual visits to past lovers.
“No reason.”
He drew his mandibles in against his jaw to stop their angry fluttering. Having Saren at his door was a serious inconvenience when all he wanted to do was sleep. “I don’t want you here. Leave now.”
The Spectre widened his stance and then shifted his weight onto one foot. “I’m not here to antagonize you Ieryan.” He said and he did actually sound sincere. “I need something I can only get from you.”
Sparatus crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “It’s a little late in the evening for subterfuge Saren.”
“It’s not information I’m after.” Saren’s primary tone was conversational, but there was an undercurrent of something he hadn’t heard in a while. He put a hand on his hip and leaned into it, looking at Sparatus out from under half closed eyes that gleamed with a certain type of knowledge.
If he didn’t know better, and he did, he’d think Saren was flirting with him. His mandibles dipped a bit in surprise and he blinked away the mental image of Saren much, much younger and how he had looked when he was satisfied. “…If you’re alluding to what I think you are, no, it’s been years since we-“
“I need you.” Saren stated with a nonchalance that was dissonant to the memory it inspired.
The boy breathed hard against his throat and the hand at his waist slid lower to envelop his shaft, squeezed and guided him. The feeling of warm breath and then teeth on his skin was followed by a lust filled voice in his ear. “I need you.”
It was one of the few Sparatus was still fond of, their first night together after months of dancing around each other. It was probably his favorite recollection of their time together, when the relationship had been new and rewarding and so real, before the lies had come to light. Of course Saren would know what that sentence would make him think of, he’d been betting on it and now he took a step closer to Sparatus.
“No, damn it, no.” He wouldn’t do that again, not after how things had ended, not after how much time had passed.
“Please?” Saren asked, his mandibles tilted at an odd angle and his otherwise passive expression turned into something reminiscent of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar who then decided to just ask for it but was still certain of denial.
Sparatus had a blinding surge of anger. “That word has never left your mouth sincerely.” He hissed. “You couldn’t be less convincing.”
It was a heavy thumping noise that woke Sparatus from the sleep he’d fallen into while lounging on his couch. Being the highest representative for his species other than the Primarch of Palaven was an exhausting avocation and more nights than not he dropped in places other than his bed. Waking up on his couch with a crick in his neck and stiff joints was nothing new, but being woken by someone actually knocking on his apartment door rather than paging the intercom or ringing the bell was uncommon. Of course, he’d been tired enough that he had probably slept through the quiet tones of a doorbell.
Sparatus pulled his weary frame off the cushions, the stiffness and discomfort reminding him of his age. He crossed through his living room and foyer to answer the door... where he found the last person he wanted to see gracing his threshold.
“What are you doing here?” He demanded of the pale turian standing in the hallway.
Saren Arterius met his eyes with some unknown expression. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?” Sparatus allowed distain to enter his tones to hide the spark of nervous confusion. Saren was not the type of man that made casual visits to past lovers.
“No reason.”
He drew his mandibles in against his jaw to stop their angry fluttering. Having Saren at his door was a serious inconvenience when all he wanted to do was sleep. “I don’t want you here. Leave now.”
The Spectre widened his stance and then shifted his weight onto one foot. “I’m not here to antagonize you Ieryan.” He said and he did actually sound sincere. “I need something I can only get from you.”
Sparatus crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “It’s a little late in the evening for subterfuge Saren.”
“It’s not information I’m after.” Saren’s primary tone was conversational, but there was an undercurrent of something he hadn’t heard in a while. He put a hand on his hip and leaned into it, looking at Sparatus out from under half closed eyes that gleamed with a certain type of knowledge.
If he didn’t know better, and he did, he’d think Saren was flirting with him. His mandibles dipped a bit in surprise and he blinked away the mental image of Saren much, much younger and how he had looked when he was satisfied. “…If you’re alluding to what I think you are, no, it’s been years since we-“
“I need you.” Saren stated with a nonchalance that was dissonant to the memory it inspired.
The boy breathed hard against his throat and the hand at his waist slid lower to envelop his shaft, squeezed and guided him. The feeling of warm breath and then teeth on his skin was followed by a lust filled voice in his ear. “I need you.”
It was one of the few Sparatus was still fond of, their first night together after months of dancing around each other. It was probably his favorite recollection of their time together, when the relationship had been new and rewarding and so real, before the lies had come to light. Of course Saren would know what that sentence would make him think of, he’d been betting on it and now he took a step closer to Sparatus.
“No, damn it, no.” He wouldn’t do that again, not after how things had ended, not after how much time had passed.
“Please?” Saren asked, his mandibles tilted at an odd angle and his otherwise passive expression turned into something reminiscent of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar who then decided to just ask for it but was still certain of denial.
Sparatus had a blinding surge of anger. “That word has never left your mouth sincerely.” He hissed. “You couldn’t be less convincing.”
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