#sfsw

“At the door,” he said in a borderline purr. It was easier to relax like this, breathing Wolf in — he must have just been in the Citadel all day, because there were faint scents, faded sweat and a wisp of cologne against leather, oil and metal. Maybe droid or device maintenance, waiting on something bigger.

It hardly mattered, and it mattered even less when Wolf’s hands tightened on his hair, a slow slide from base awareness to pull to pain. When he pulled away just enough to look at him, Wolf smiled. “You’re a bit wound up, aren’t you?”

“A bit,” Umbral agreed, seeing no harm in it.

“I think we need to do something about that,” Wolf said, blue eyes intense. “That tension needs an outlet, don’t you think?”

“And what are you intending?” Umbral said, smiling as his hair was released and flicking one side of it back over his shoulder. “Want to go a round or two? Spar on our feet, or on the bed?”

“Something like that,” Wolf agreed. “But I think I’m going to be the one keeping control here.”

Umbral smirked. “Oh do you? And how do you intend to wrest control from a Sith on the warpath?”

“Bribery,” Wolf said frankly, and caught him by the chin when he started to laugh. He smiled knowingly, thumb smoothing the strong line of his jaw. “I’ll give you what you want, but would never ask for. Not in seriousness. And you will revel in the pleasure of indulgence and forget about the unremarkable fools of the day.”

“…you have me intrigued,” Umbral said evenly, not missing when Wolf’s free hand smoothed over his hip, ready to grab if he went to twist away. It was a firm hold, but not a truly caging one. It gave Wolf power, gave him a sense of what could be wrenched into full control — Wolf was a physically a powerful man, big and broad and well muscled, and if Umbral didn’t have the Force to augment his own not-inconsequential strength, there would be a sincere question of if Wolf really could restrain him against his will.

But he wasn’t holding him like that. It gave him power, and a modicum of control, but didn’t actually leave Umbral without options if he didn’t like it.

That was why he allowed it, a smile coming easily. “Going to tie me up, are you?”

“No, you’re responsible for your own restraint,” Wolf said. “Unless you can’t handle that?”

A gauntlet thrown.  Umbral made an amused sound at the mere idea. “I can control my body, thank you.”

“Let’s test that,” Wolf said, and promptly flicked a tassel's worth of Umbral’s own hair under his nose.

The meaning was clear, and Umbral grinned, allowing his attention to be diverted. He twitched his nose at Wolf in amusement, the section of hair not really providing a substantial irritant but there were plenty of other available means. “So that’s the game. You will attempt to induce me and I will resist.”

“I will induce you, and you will resist as long as you can,” Wolf corrected. “I suppose I’ll allow you a pair of stifles as freebies, if you can manage that.”

A jab; they both knew he was a terrible stifler, to the point where trying almost made it worse than letting go and just letting himself sneeze.

“I suppose we’ll see. I’m not feeling particularly sensitive,” Umbral warned. “You have work ahead.”

“Ah, but a good work.” Wolf shoved off the wall, grasping his wrist and waist as if to dip him in dance for the brief second Umbral was pushed off balance.

“So gallant,” Umbral drawled, getting resettled at a better stance. “Shall we?”

“We dance all the time, Umbral; what’s a little physical posing,” Wolf said, waving towards the bedroom. “Strip.”

“Will you?” Umbral asked lightly, removing his robe and waving it absently towards the hanging rack he most often just dropped them on. His close fitting tunic went next, the cool air of his suite brushing his heated skin in a luxurious welcome. Belatedly he perched on the bed to deal with his boots, then—

“Actually leave the pants on,” Wolf decided. “They’ll help with that restraint.”

“You just like it when I wear tight pants,” Umbral said, amused. “On my back?”

“On your back, get comfortable,” Wolf said. “If and when I decide to change that it will be a choice, not just a poorly thought out coincidence.”

“Yes sir,” Umbral said, going to settle on the pillows and moving a few around for better support as well as temporary comfort.

“Don’t start what you don’t want to sustain.” Wolf advised. “And no, I’m not going to undress. I want to keep your focus right where I’ve demanded it.”

“Sassy, I like it,” Umbral said, stretching with an anticipatory grin. “So.”

“So?” Wolf prompted, going to get the neat little supply kit that Umbral had outfitted for the convenience of his pleasure.

“Use your Core World accent,” Umbral said.

It was not a request, really — or really, he hadn’t worded it as one — but Wolf smirked and cleared his throat for show, humming low in his register before speaking in that precise accent, the Alderaanian lilt he’d been born with, which was arguably even more pretentious to the Imperial once he had been taught.

“Kinky,” Wolf said. “But I like it. Shall we play an imprisoned Sith and a smug Republic Officer interrogating him for details?”

Umbral snorted. “No thank you. I just like the accent.”

“You like my Outer Rim drawl, too,” Wolf observed.

“You’re already a scoundrel,” Umbral said, taking a moment to get his hair in a more comfortable position. “I just like to hear that perfectly cultivated accent saying such naughty things.”

Wolf laughed. “Really.”

“Really.” Gold eyes gleamed with amusement and he folded his hands loosely over his abdomen to wait. “Planning, my dear?”

The endearment was rare and always made Wolf smile. “Oh yes. Lots of ideas.”

“An idea is little good without execution,” he observed, smiling when Wolf finally came back to straddle him. He unclasped his hands and set them to Wolf’s thighs at once.

“Very good,” Wolf said, opening the kit. “Leave them there and hush.”

Umbral smirked, but fell silent as requested. His eyes tracked every motion as Wolf laid out their harder hitting options; a thin, pointed feather, the spool of fiberoptic cord, the still thin but firmer cable, and of course brushes — his tools of choice being the long, thin one and the one that had been trimmed to a more ragged point.

There was also a small container of blue green gel, a vial, and some incense. Umbral knew himself well, and as Wolf set things aside — the clear cord, the long brush, the gel and one vial — he watched Umbral’s brows climb.

His expression was such that Wolf had to make an exception. “Go on.”

“You’ve thought this out,” he said, impressed.

“I’m in Intelligence, dear,” Wolf said with a little smirk. “Gathering information and planning operations are my thing.”

Umbral laughed. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve planned, then.”

“Mmhm. Well, never let it be said I’ve left you waiting.” The cord was first, and it was a test to see how sensitive he might be at the moment. Cutting a safe length of it, Wolf tipped Umbral’s head up gently with an appreciative murmur when he flared his nostrils to make it easier.

Likely because he knew it would have very little return. A little huff and some twitchiness were all it provoked. Were he to stick with that method, they’d be at it a while.

Honestly Wolf hadn’t been putting much weight on it; it was just being thorough. Umbral’s little smirk though, that arched brow telegraphing, ‘is that all you’ve got?’ all too clearly, made him get up.

He could hear Umbral move on the bed, the hushed whisper of his sheets, but didn’t pause in going to find the sleek crimson incense holder, where he placed and lit one of the sticks. It wouldn’t get to him right away, but the longer it burned the more it tended to wear away at him.

Wolf returned to the bed with a smile. “Do you doubt me? Say it.”

“I think this is going to be very enlightening,” Umbral said instead, with a sort of amused acceptance.

Good.

“I agree.” Wolf resettled, bracing himself on the pillows and leaning with perfect control of his balance to kiss Umbral, a brief, teasing brush of lips that lingered just long enough to want.

And then he sat up. “Let’s make this challenging, shall we?”

“Be my guest,” Umbral murmured, tipping his face half in challenge and half in invitation.

Wolf took both, unscrewing the little jar and pressing his forefinger into the gel. Someone somewhere had got it into their heads to thin out kolto with a thicker mentholated gel and market it as an underground treatment for illnesses from the common cold to actual plagues. It didn’t really work, but it had one reliably useful side effect on Umbral. And oh, he was so much more susceptible to something he’d breathed in. 

He wiped the thin film of gel off on the soft bit of skin between Umbral’s lips and nose and watched both immediately react. His lips parted on a soft breath, and his nostrils flared while his bridge crinkled up in immediate and intense irritation. Wolf could hardly blame him; the scent was somewhere in the eye watering range between menthol and chlorine with a completely uncalled for note of vinegar.

Apparently they thought they could just scare the illness out of you.

He hadn’t used much for those reasons, but it was clear he didn’t need to. Umbral was starting to hitch, little sharp breaths with a note of increasing need between them, lashes fluttering. The hitches deepened to to something shuddery and abruptly it caught, breath held—