He's never asked how old Jedao really is, or how old he considers himself to be. Too young covers a broad enough stretch of ground, really.
"It shouldn't be - it isn't - your job to pick up the slack when we fail."
He thinks of Elias with a journal and a feather; he thinks of Maya, with an orb and a library.
"But thank you, for doing it anyway."
"It shouldn't be - it isn't - your job to pick up the slack when we fail."
He thinks of Elias with a journal and a feather; he thinks of Maya, with an orb and a library.
"But thank you, for doing it anyway."
Eiffel does stare, admittedly, but it's not shock or horror. It's drinking Jedao in, like if he looks away he'll forget it all, and with the back of his fingers he glides a glancing touch over Jedao's ribs, before he pulls him in for a deep, genuine kiss.
"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
He's all set to point out that the Admiral is paying all of them, and the question cuts him off. His brow furrows, for a moment.
"At first. I was - I wasn't born in Avalir, I wasn't a wizard, there was some controversy there. I had to earn trust and respect, and for some people I never would, but that was fine. I had - there were people who could stop any of that from interfering with my job."
That was how they'd phrase it to him, at least, whenever Patia and Loquatius conspired in his defence.
"At first. I was - I wasn't born in Avalir, I wasn't a wizard, there was some controversy there. I had to earn trust and respect, and for some people I never would, but that was fine. I had - there were people who could stop any of that from interfering with my job."
That was how they'd phrase it to him, at least, whenever Patia and Loquatius conspired in his defence.
"That mean I'm not allowed to think it looks cool?" he pants, and his hands come back to loosen his tie, just enough that he can slip it over his collar and unbutton his own shirt as well. Which leaves him in just the tie and gloves, which feels weird as a look but he knows Jedao's going to love it, so he moves in again, bracing one hand behind Jedao's neck to kiss him deeply, as his left hand moves down to palm Jedao through his pants, hyperaware of the way he's practically rubbing himself at the same time with his forearm.
"I'd like to think wardens aren't that insecure, but I've done my reading." He's nowhere near finished, but it's enough to know that among the strengths his colleagues usually seem to have, 'self-assured professionalism' sure isn't one of them.
"For whatever it's worth, I'm well aware that you're smarter than I am." No hesitation, and no self-consciousness either.
"For whatever it's worth, I'm well aware that you're smarter than I am." No hesitation, and no self-consciousness either.
"Yes." His tone doesn't change but he does look a little defensive. "That wasn't - in my right mind, you're my ally. You're the person I trust. Not him."
For the first time, he can't keep his voice calm and steady; some of that dread and desperation breaks through, for a moment.
For the first time, he can't keep his voice calm and steady; some of that dread and desperation breaks through, for a moment.
With his feet secure, that means he can kiss Jedao with force, pin him to the door so he can bring his hands down and start pushing Jedao's pants down too, low enough that he can take him in one hand and give him a long, tight stroke, before he reaches between his legs to explore, mostly letting the slick glide of leather on bare thighs do all the work.
He wants to pretend the slip didn't happen. He could do that, in Avalir; some people noticed when his gaze turned hollow and distant, but then it would pass and no one had to deal with it, especially him.
The Barge demands rather more from him, and that's fair; it's a better place, overall.
Zerxus closes his eyes and focuses on the crackling of the fire, on the whispers still haunting his dreams. "I'm afraid of the future I know I just got a taste of. I'm afraid of failing the people I've sworn to protect, all over again, because I'm not strong enough to handle it."
It's inevitable, that he'll be a weapon aimed at whatever is left of Exandria. The Barge, at least, was supposed to be safe.
The Barge demands rather more from him, and that's fair; it's a better place, overall.
Zerxus closes his eyes and focuses on the crackling of the fire, on the whispers still haunting his dreams. "I'm afraid of the future I know I just got a taste of. I'm afraid of failing the people I've sworn to protect, all over again, because I'm not strong enough to handle it."
It's inevitable, that he'll be a weapon aimed at whatever is left of Exandria. The Barge, at least, was supposed to be safe.
The gloves make him a bit bolder, the barrier of sensation between himself and Jedao giving him a bit more confidence than he'd normally have, and so he finds Jedao's ass to trace gently around his entrance before he remembers.
"I-I-- lube, 's'in my bedroom," he mumbles as he pulls back from kissing Jedao's jaw. "Do we wanna-?"
"I-I-- lube, 's'in my bedroom," he mumbles as he pulls back from kissing Jedao's jaw. "Do we wanna-?"
Zerxus opens his eyes, and only regards Jedao for a moment before he stands up and walks forward, reaching out his own hands but not quite making contact. There's the faintest tremble to them, for all that they look unscathed.
There's no resistance; the push just has him going faster, bumping his knees against the floor in a way he might feel later but certainly doesn't now.
Right now, he's squeezing Jedao's hands like lifelines and blinking hard, over and over, because you don't just - you don't force a man to kill you and then sob into his arms about it.
You don't reject his forgiveness, either. "Thank you."
There's no tremble in his voice. You learn to speak clearly through all sort of pain, when people need to hear you.
Right now, he's squeezing Jedao's hands like lifelines and blinking hard, over and over, because you don't just - you don't force a man to kill you and then sob into his arms about it.
You don't reject his forgiveness, either. "Thank you."
There's no tremble in his voice. You learn to speak clearly through all sort of pain, when people need to hear you.
"Hey, hey-" Discomfort runs brief and sharp through Eiffel's stomach, bringing a moment of clarity with it, and he brings his hand up to brace Jedao's face and kiss him again, far softer and sweeter because of the way it's filled with concern. "You don't have to beg me, big guy. Kinda prefer it if you didn't, actually."
But he gives a warm, flushed smile. "You can go down on me. Just- asking once is fine." With another deep, reassuring kiss.
But he gives a warm, flushed smile. "You can go down on me. Just- asking once is fine." With another deep, reassuring kiss.
He's shed tears, in the last seven years, every now and then. On the last day of his life he did so a few times.
He hasn't properly sobbed since that day in their house, when Evandrin fully faded away and there was nothing left to hold. Even when the ritual failed he had felt too drained to cry, too empty to do anything but plead for that failure to be stricken from his memory.
There's a soft, token noise of protest before the dam breaks, and he's shaking with the force of it, jarring all of the wounds that aren't really there.
He hasn't properly sobbed since that day in their house, when Evandrin fully faded away and there was nothing left to hold. Even when the ritual failed he had felt too drained to cry, too empty to do anything but plead for that failure to be stricken from his memory.
There's a soft, token noise of protest before the dam breaks, and he's shaking with the force of it, jarring all of the wounds that aren't really there.
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