Chapter Text
Thrawn steps into the darkened room through the private adjoining door between his own quarters and Eli’s. He waits as the door slides shut behind him, allowing his eyes a moment to adjust.
The main area is dark but a dim light emanates from the doorway to Eli’s sleeping chamber. Thrawn pads silently across the room towards it. He is wearing his uniform, but removed his boots, belt, and gloves beforehand.
He stops in the entrance to Eli’s bedroom, drinking in the sight before him.
Eli is naked, sprawled on his back on top of his bedcovers with a length of black cloth wrapped securely around his head, covering his eyes. The excess heat of arousal radiates from his face, neck and chest; the muscles in his abdomen tighten and release with every breath. His knees are bent, one down on the bed and the other in the air at an angle; his legs are open wide towards the doorway. He is tracing the fingers of one hand lightly over his cock where it lies on his stomach, hard and flushed a deep reddish-purple at the head, shiny and wet with lubricant.
Thrawn watches from the doorway as Eli touches himself, circling a thumb over his swollen cockhead, running his fingertips down the length of his shaft and back up again. His fingers are coated in lube as well; and Thrawn can see the bottle itself on the small table next to Eli’s bed.
Eli’s other hand is cupping his balls at the same time, caressing the round firmness that has already visibly pulled up tight to his body. His hips raise off the bed, the fingers of that hand slip lower to brush across his entrance, and a brief, soft moan escapes his lips before he draws his hand up again.
Carefully controlling his own breathing to keep quiet despite the anticipation, the arousal coiling in his core, Thrawn crosses the room to stand beside Eli’s bed, in front of the side table.
He is careful, quiet; but he knows some small sound has betrayed his approach— perhaps it is the rustle of his clothing, perhaps the light sound of his footfalls— because Eli twitches on his bed, his head turns towards Thrawn, and the rhythm of his breathing stutters before settling again at a slightly faster rate than before. His actions remain unchanged; though there is a new unsteadiness to the teasing motions of his hands, a sense of heightened tension that Thrawn recognizes. Eli is restraining himself. Forcing himself to hold back.
Thrawn smiles and begins undressing without taking his eyes off Eli.
He takes his time, unhurried, savouring Eli’s minute responses to the soft rustles of fabric as he removes his clothing, item by item, and drops each one to the floor. A sharper inhalation as Thrawn undoes his tunic. A twitch of bare hips, Eli’s cock lifting briefly off his belly at the sound of Thrawn lowering his zipper. A soft, bitten-off moan, barely more than a hoarse exhalation of breath, when Thrawn lets his uniform trousers drop to the floor to pool around his bare feet.
By the time Thrawn is finished, stepping out of his underclothes and pushing the pile of clothing aside with one foot, Eli’s hand has closed around his own cock. He’s stroking himself slowly now, rubbing his palm over the head before sliding his fist loosely down the length of his shaft and back up again, his breathing becoming increasingly uneven.
Picking up the bottle of lube, Thrawn climbs quietly onto the foot of the bed, careful not to touch Eli as he does— he wants to save it, that first touch of the night. The bed creaks, settles under his weight, and Eli’s breath hitches audibly, his fingers tightening briefly on his cock. His legs splay open wider, possibly an unconscious gesture.
Possibly not.
Thrawn waits patiently, watches as Eli settles again and moves one hand up, slides it flat across his stomach and up to his chest. He moans softly at his own touch and his hips begin to twitch upwards, thrusting himself lightly into his own grip as he toys with his nipple; fingers rubbing, circling, pinching at the dark, stiffened peak.
Opening the bottle silently, Thrawn coats two fingers in lube as he watches Eli’s tension slowly build higher in front of him. Eli’s chest is heaving as he pants for breath, quick inhalations and softly moaned exhalations. The muscles in his stomach are taut, casting faint shadows over his skin, and those lines shift and dance as he slowly writhes with pleasure on his bed, one hand working over his cock and the other still at his nipple.
Watching Eli closely, not wanting to miss a single nuance of his reaction, Thrawn slips his two slicked fingers into the cleft of Eli’s ass and presses one inside him in a single quick, smooth motion.
The response is everything he was anticipating.
Eli gasps loudly at the touch; his fingers tighten around his cock; his hips jerk and his back lifts briefly off the bed. That gasp transforms into a low, shuddering moan and he draws his legs up off the bed as Thrawn slides his finger deeper, twisting his hand slowly, exploring; feeling the heat, the texture, the tightness of Eli’s channel.
But he doesn’t fuck Eli with his fingers. Instead, Thrawn uses one finger and then two to work Eli open, to work lube inside him, to get him wet and loose and ready. Deliberate and mechanical, as though he cares nothing for Eli’s pleasure. Eli’s head is thrown back, his mouth open as he pants for breath, hand tight now on his cock as he strokes himself faster, and the little slippery sounds mingle with his soft, needy whimpers.
In very little time, Eli’s orgasm is almost on him. Thrawn knows the signs well and he twists his hand once again, curls his fingers slightly. He finds Eli’s prostate— almost as if by accident— and Eli shudders; convulses as Thrawn’s fingers brush over that knot of nerves inside him.
Eli’s hoarse, wordless cries fill the room as he spills himself, spurts of come arcing out over his stomach in glistening trails of white. Thrawn can no longer control his breathing as he watches it; watches Eli shake and spasm on the bed in front of him; listens to Eli’s gasping, broken moans; feels Eli’s hole twitching and clenching around his fingers.
Thrawn continues working his fingers inside Eli— even after Eli is spent, his hand releasing his slowly softening cock and his legs falling limply to the bed as he pants for breath. His stomach is covered in pools of come; a large enough quantity to make it obvious that he was pleasuring himself long before Thrawn even entered his quarters.
The thought sends a fresh throb of desire through Thrawn’s cock. He’s been hard through all of this, he wants to grab Eli by the hips and yank him down onto his aching cock, pound into him until he fills Eli with his seed— but he doesn’t.
Not yet.
Thrawn makes himself wait. He makes sure Eli is wet and ready for him; he waits while Eli relaxes, his whole body becoming loose and pliable. Finally pulling his fingers out, Thrawn pauses, considering; then runs them through the slick mess coating Eli’s stomach.
Above him, Eli raises his head up, looking down as though he’s forgotten the blindfold over his eyes. Staying between Eli’s legs, Thrawn shifts closer, a brief, guttural sigh of relief slipping from his lips as he takes his own cock in his hand. He strokes himself, lets Eli hear the quiet yet obscene wet sounds of it; then repeats his actions— and he knows it the moment Eli realizes he’s slicking his cock with Eli’s come.
A hitch of breath, a low groan; and Eli’s head drops back onto his pillow. His legs are still open and Thrawn gets his knees under Eli’s thighs, rubs the head of his cock over Eli’s wet, open hole.
He toys with Eli like that for a time, squeezing his own cock, nudging the very tip inside while he strokes himself slow and steady. As he does, Eli squirms on the bed; but his movements remain slow, languid and relaxed after his orgasm— just the way Thrawn wants him.
Pulling away, Thrawn shifts to one side; then pushes Eli’s legs down to the bed, grips him by the hips, and easily rolls him onto his front. Eli lets himself be maneuvered into position, facedown on his mattress; his soft, sleepily contented hum barely audible, muffled as it is into his pillow.
Thrawn climbs on top of him, straddling Eli’s legs and sitting on the backs of his thighs, just below the rounded curve of his ass. Eli wants to be toyed with, wants to be used; as though he’s simply a fucktoy for someone to come and take in the night for their own pleasure.
Thrawn can certainly accommodate that.