Both Past and Present Tense" Saren/Nihlus 8/?
anonymous
December 8 2014, 05:30:03 UTC
“You, who once ran through downtown Cipritine with nothing but a smile on your face and a shotgun in your hands...gets nervous over being penetrated?” After a few easier strokes, he slipped a second finger, and Nihlus bucked against him.
“Element of surprise. Had to work with my...talents. Wasn't like they were going to like us there anyway. ”Nihlus squirmed, and he couldn't tell if it was his fingers or his memories that were causing such a reaction. Saren slowed down. “A barefaced Palaveni and a Taetrean? Worst combo ever for spying in Cipritine. Besides, I was the best damn distraction you could ask for, that mark never saw you coming.”
“You were.” He agreed, and he didn't miss how Nihlus gasped out loud as his fingers hit a spot deep inside him. Ready now, he thought. “A very good distraction. For someone who specializes in special ops.”
And then it hit him.
Palaveni. A barefaced Palaveni.
“Hey, it's why I'm so val...Why did you stop?”
“Palaveni.” He growled. “You called me Palaven-born.”
“Oh.” Nihlus blinked. “Yeah. I figured that out ages ago.”
“How...?” He said, still almost speechless. He'd never had the look, the markings, or the accent. And Nihlus was observant, but he'd never given the boy anything to observe - his paltry claims to his homeland had been wiped out decades ago.
(Desolas had the right markings, the right accent. Desolas remembered Palaven, and would tell them stories about the city of their birth, a city that Saren could never remember. He'd went there once after Desolas had died, and found it nothing like the stories. He'd left quickly. Home was in the stars.)
“You were always jumpy about going there and I thought...It was a lot like me and Taetrus. You didn't like going home.” He leaned up onto his elbows. “Early on, I did some research, saw a picture of a General Arterius who had died in the First Contact War, and...well...Spirits, you looked just like him. So I figured he had to be your dad.”
“Brother.” Saren said, softly. “He was my brother.”
Twenty fucking years after Desolas had died and he still couldn't keep his damn grief out of his sub-vocals.
Was it so surprising? He was your only family. Father, mother, brother, all in one. His brain scoffed.
“I'm sorry.” Nihlus winced. “Fuck. Come here.”
And with that, Nihlus got up with all the speed Saren knew he possessed yet was still surprised by, and embraced his mentor in a near-comical hug. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories...”
Nihlus hands found the back of his neck, tugging him into a close intimacy that he hadn't felt since...
(Desolas' arms running up his sides, the new medal placed around his neck.
“Saren. 16 and already a Lieutenant. Spirits, mother and father would be so proud of you.” His hands - big in life, enormous in memory - folded around him, and Saren listened closely to the thrum to his brother's heart. “And... I'm so very proud to call you my brother. You'll make Palaven so proud. I know it.”)
“Element of surprise. Had to work with my...talents. Wasn't like they were going to like us there anyway. ”Nihlus squirmed, and he couldn't tell if it was his fingers or his memories that were causing such a reaction. Saren slowed down. “A barefaced Palaveni and a Taetrean? Worst combo ever for spying in Cipritine. Besides, I was the best damn distraction you could ask for, that mark never saw you coming.”
“You were.” He agreed, and he didn't miss how Nihlus gasped out loud as his fingers hit a spot deep inside him. Ready now, he thought. “A very good distraction. For someone who specializes in special ops.”
And then it hit him.
Palaveni. A barefaced Palaveni.
“Hey, it's why I'm so val...Why did you stop?”
“Palaveni.” He growled. “You called me Palaven-born.”
“Oh.” Nihlus blinked. “Yeah. I figured that out ages ago.”
“How...?” He said, still almost speechless. He'd never had the look, the markings, or the accent. And Nihlus was observant, but he'd never given the boy anything to observe - his paltry claims to his homeland had been wiped out decades ago.
(Desolas had the right markings, the right accent. Desolas remembered Palaven, and would tell them stories about the city of their birth, a city that Saren could never remember. He'd went there once after Desolas had died, and found it nothing like the stories. He'd left quickly. Home was in the stars.)
“You were always jumpy about going there and I thought...It was a lot like me and Taetrus. You didn't like going home.” He leaned up onto his elbows. “Early on, I did some research, saw a picture of a General Arterius who had died in the First Contact War, and...well...Spirits, you looked just like him. So I figured he had to be your dad.”
“Brother.” Saren said, softly. “He was my brother.”
Twenty fucking years after Desolas had died and he still couldn't keep his damn grief out of his sub-vocals.
Was it so surprising? He was your only family. Father, mother, brother, all in one. His brain scoffed.
“I'm sorry.” Nihlus winced. “Fuck. Come here.”
And with that, Nihlus got up with all the speed Saren knew he possessed yet was still surprised by, and embraced his mentor in a near-comical hug. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories...”
Nihlus hands found the back of his neck, tugging him into a close intimacy that he hadn't felt since...
(Desolas' arms running up his sides, the new medal placed around his neck.
“Saren. 16 and already a Lieutenant. Spirits, mother and father would be so proud of you.” His hands - big in life, enormous in memory - folded around him, and Saren listened closely to the thrum to his brother's heart. “And... I'm so very proud to call you my brother. You'll make Palaven so proud. I know it.”)
Saren growled and pushed Nihlus on his back.
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