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"Saren..."
There was more to Nihlus’ word than most people around him could probably pick up on, but it perked his old friend's ears.
"Nihlus," Saren answered and grabbed his outstretched arm by the elbow, looking up to meet his eyes.
There was surprise there. At Saren’s appearance at this event? Why? Why wouldn’t he come? Why wouldn’t he want to share in the celebration of his old pupil’s accomplishment?
“Good to see you,” Nihlus said and the surprise ebbed away. “I thought you were still out in the Attican Traverse?”
“I just came back.” Only a few hours ago, in fact. He’d barely had time to make himself presentable before he made his way over here. Saren let his arm go and made to pull back, but the young man held him firm.
Saren took a second look at his former protege. There was something subtle, with his stance, the way he held his body. A line over his shoulders. Tense. And in his eyes. The green emerald spark was muted, and while Nihlus’ mandibles hung loose and at ease at his jaw in a smile, it didn’t reach his eyes the way it used to.
At first Saren contributed it to the situation. A lot of people, a lot of talking. A lot of politics circulating among the fortunate of the Presidium’s brass. He knew Nihlus didn’t enjoy it, reading between the lines of every sentence uttered. But the young man excelled at it, much more so than Saren, he’d never cared enough to invest into learning the game. Still, it exhausted them both.
Nihlus let him go after a second longer than was really polite. If anyone noticed, no one said anything. Even as he could feel the eyes on them. The curious, bored elite. Let them look. If this was worthy of gossip then the times really had gone stale.
The dry, characteristic sound of a microphone being tapped bounced between the walls of the big hall, and someone - a turian general, judging by the pips at his collar, although Saren couldn’t place the face - cleared his voice to gain their attention. He greeted them all and welcomed them to this special occasion, then invited Spectre Kryik to join him on the stage.
Saren mostly tuned him out. He already knew why they were here. Had it been anyone but Nihlus who was to be commemorated for the stellar feat he’d pulled off during his last mission, spirits knew he wouldn't be here.
The strain in his friend’s eyes bothered him and he kept Nihlus under surveillance as the night drew on. A glance here, a stolen look there as he drank and ate and acted civil with anyone who approached him. Everyone, who knew he used to be Nihlus’ mentor, congratulated him on a job well done. For Nihlus’ accomplishments were his accomplishments. Or so they seemed to think. It was of course hogwash . Nihlus had always been his own man. E ven when he was under Saren’s tutelage, he had barely done as told and had always walked his own path. As much to Saren’s frustration as to his amazement.
“It was quite some original thinking,” the general, who had welcomed them here, said later that night as they looked over to where the star of the show was talking with Councilor Tevos. “Outside the box, as they say.”
“I don’t think Spectre Kryik ever knew there was a box to begin with,” Saren remarked. It earned him a chuckle even though it wasn’t meant as a joke. “Excuse me, general.”
He’d just seen his friend nod with a “Yes, sir.” and rest back into an at ease pose, his hands clasped behind his back. Nihlus, who hadn’t called anyone “Sir” for years had fallen out of using that pose right along with with the word. Except for when he was incredibly stressed.
Before Saren had a chance to reach his former protege his path was blocked by Councilor Septimus who saw the opportunity to claim his time. Minutes ticked by, as the man droned on and it felt rude to interrupt. He liked Septimus well enough, they’d known each other for years, b ut right now his attention was elsewhere. The small signs Saren saw, the tension under Nihlus’ dark skin, the fake smile and the contradicting easy go lucky eyes didn’t warrant a scene, at least not yet. So he stayed and played friendly with their Councilor as he watched from the corner of his eye as Nihlus was dragged from person to person around the room.
When the finger s clasped behind his back started to turn from the warm brown to white, Saren drew the line. Could no one see that the boy was coming apart in the seams? How he struggled underneath the polite facade? How his only wish was to flee the room and hide from all of their prying eyes? But no. No one else would. No one else knew him like he did.
"Kryik," he said as he neared and saw a barely there shiver run down Nihlus’ back, the slightest twitch in his shoulders . "Could I steal you away for a moment?"
The Colonel-Lieutenant that currently occupied Nihlus’ attention nodded towards them both before he turned to find himself a new conversation partner.
“Come,” Saren said and turned to lead them both out of the big banquet hall. Down the corridor and into a small hallway they walked, leading to what he guessed must be maintenance closets. The light was dim here, only lit up by what fell in from the main corridor. He heard Nihlus’ familiar gate turn the corner a second after him and Saren turned to see his friend let out a breath of air and sag down. With slouched shoulders he leaned back against the wall.
"Thank you," he mumbled, looking down at his hands. "I was going nuts in there."
"I could tell." Saren stepped in front of him, the movement making green eyes turn up. He held him there for a moment longer, letting Nihlus find his bearings again after the onslaught of people. Let him draw whatever strength he could from his presence. "So I read your report…"
More didn’t need to be said. Nihlus’ mandibles quivered before pulling in, and he straightened a little where he stood, nodding. Still trying to hold onto what little equilibrium he still possessed. They may be divided when it came down to how they worked, and even as Saren preferred to get the job done, no matter the cost. He still respected the other Spectres’ ethics. Because it came from a place of genuine care for people, that much he’d learned after living together during Nihlus’ years in training . That Nihlus still had an open heart even after years of working in the world they did, was nothing short of a miracle . A heart Saren feared would be the death of him one of these days, but still couldn’t help but be amazed by. Nihlus hated when innocent people ended up in the crossfire. Saren knew t hose missions w hen there was no avoiding the loss of life ate him up. Like an insidious worm, slowly and consistently nibbling away at his insides. Nihlus was a much better person than him, in so many ways.
It looked like the other Spectre was about to say something, searching for some answers as their eyes held. The defenses crumbled, little by little, now that they were alone, and Saren saw, gradually, how Nihlus’ eyes changed. He looked so fragile and frayed, so naked and desperate for… what? It made Saren want to squirm and look away, uncomfortable with the pure, deep honesty he found in them. His eyes open pools straight into his soul. He still, despite the years that had passed, didn’t feel worthy of the trust Nihlus put in him. But he wanted to help him, he’d do anything to help him. Anything, he just had to name it.
Maybe Nihlus found what he was searching for, because suddenly strong fingers gripped the front of Saren’s jacket, pulled him close against his chest and crashed their mouths together. T he old Spectre had trouble ignoring how the desperate keen from deep with in Nihlus’ throat pulled on his heartstrings. Pure instinct had him pressing against that young body, hands falling to his hips. Hungry kisses washed him away on a sea of sudden lust. The surroundings fell away and for a moment there was only Nihlus. Nihlus' hands on his body, pulling, tearing in his clothes. Nihlus' tongue in his mouth, on his lips. Nihlus’ heavy breath as it warmed his cheeks. How long since they’d been close like this? Saren’s body felt starved for it. The familiar scent going straight to his brain and down his gut, like it always did, pulsing.
It was the tug at his belt that brought him back. He caught Nihlus’ shaking, desperate hands and the protest that slipped out when Saren put a halt to this was both juvenile and endearing. Spirits help him, Saren actually thought it was endearing. But what Nihlus so obviously wanted wouldn’t be proper here. He might not think he wanted more than a quick rut against the wall. But Saren knew what he needed, could see the need to forget in his eyes , to lose himself in a moment of something good, and he intended to give it to him. Intended and needed to, if the feeling of fullness in his pants was anything to go by.
"Not here," he murmured against his lips before pulling back to give his body a chance to cool down.
"You've never been shy about locale before..." Nihlus tried to play innocent.
Saren scoffed in derision.
"Sneak away and meet me at your place.”
"Why don't you join me?" Nihlus turned the grip and intertwined their fingers. The contrast of dark and light caught Saren’s eyes for a moment and he couldn't pull them away when he said:
"I need to talk to Tevos. It won't take more than ten minutes."
"Promise?" On a normal day, the word would have been teasing, taunting, maybe even yearning. But today Nihlus' voice broke. His lower harmonics giving away the fluctuating insecurity and a need for reassurance. Again Saren ignored how it pulled at his heart.
"Promise," he said and afforded them both a rare, soft look.
Truth be told. He hated seeing Nihlus beat himself up like this. He'd done the right call and shouldn't feel bad about it. But he did, and all Saren could think about was to take that feeling away from him. The implications of this was something he'd rather not think about, at all.
It took him a while to calm down enough to not be embarrassed about walking in public. And the conversation with the council woman was perhaps a little more curt than he would have any other day. But he couldn't help himself. He really wanted to be someplace else right now.
Without bother ing to knock first, he opened the door to the apartment assigned for temporary stays by the ST&R. Nihlus hadn't locked it, and the door slid up with a dry wheeze. The moment their eyes met across the living room the air turned supercharged. It pricked and itched under Saren's plates , making his body feel like one live current conductor. Words were unnecessary and the windows actually rattled as he slammed the younger turian up the wall, pressing in close and claiming his lips in a hard kiss. The first moan of the night was coaxed out of Nihlus just as Saren's hips ground into him, his plates warm and slick already. Hasty kisses traded, quick breaths mingling as fingers tore into clothes. Off, off, they needed to be off now, right now!
Sweaters hit the floor a second before Saren rolled them past the door frame and into the bedroom. He threw Nihlus on the bed, eyes predatory as they tracked the man crawl up it and spread out over the cover. Stretching like some professional model on the front page of a magazine. All lithe muscle and gorgeous shapes. It really wasn’t fair, how beautiful Nihlus was. The night light of the Citadel falling in through the windows, playing over his skin, framing his face in dark shadows. Those emerald eyes almost seemed luminous, calling him in.
That was all it took for Saren’ s pants to suddenly feel way too constricting. Spirits he needed to be in him so bad it almost made him dizzy. Grabbing the formal pants at his ankles, the old Spectre pulled them down Nihlus' legs, cloth giving way for delicious brown skin. His heart sped up as the entirety of his lover was revealed. Nihlus’ length already out, glistening with moisture and Saren knew how it would taste on his tongue. Knew how it would feel in his hand when he forced an orgasm right out of the the both of them . His mandibles flared and he growled, slipping out of his own pants and crawling up over th at wonderful body.
All his, it was all his, and he littered it with kisses, pausing just long enough to leave a dark mark with his teeth at the tender spot next to Nihlus’ hip. Up over his lower stomach and chest Saren trailed his lips and tongue, giving out a deep needy gruff as deft fingers found sensitive spots beneath his pale fringe. A purr rolled out of Nihlus when Saren made sensitive parts slide down his chest. Finding the soft skin of his neck, Saren started nipping, started biting and tonguing it. Drunk on the sounds gasped right next to his ear. Not yet words, not yet loud enough, but still making him feel too hot in his skin, like metal glowing white in the hearth.
Letting his hands travel the path his mouth had just taken he found muscular thighs. Squeezing them hard, certainly leaving marks with his sharp talons, the old Spectre didn’t have to do much to make them part, Nihlus spreading them wide, eager to mak e room for him between his legs . Saren forced them further, just to hear how Nihlus’ breath hitched . Muscles and sinews strained under his fingers.
Grounding down between them, their dicks pressed together and oh and ah that was good ... Nihlus bucked up into him, rolling his hips to get more of that slide of sensitive nerves. There was a permanent purr of arousal in Saren's ear, small huffs of air breaking it up. More , it told him in no uncertain terms. More, I want more.
Rumbling his consent - he had planned on actually using a word, but it got lost in the moment- Saren gripped Nihlus' wrists, pulling them away from his fringe and pressed them down on the bed on each side of his head. Next second his teeth had breached skin, the blue, salty blood tainting his tongue, just a drop, against the brown neck, his own rumble deepening and mixing in the air with Nihlus’ loud moan. He rolled down hard with his hips, their dicks slipping against each other in their own juices.
“Saren-” Nihlus begged and pulled up his pelvis, trying to catch the old man's tip in the soft tissue beneath his length.
Saren resisted, just to tease him, just to get to hear that needy mess of sound again. He slid his hips up, rubbing against the trapped turian and trail ed his tongue down Nihlus’ neck. Dragging his teeth over the skin along his collarbone. Earning a hiss from the burn they left, abdomen cramping, squirming and Nihlus tried again to catch his tip.
The needy keen that accompanied the request was enough for Saren to take pity on him. The edge of desperation had slipped into the bucking man's tones once more. I need this, please, please, I need you. Take me, fuck me, do whatever you want with me. Who could resist giving him anything when he voiced it like that?
Making sure his knees were securely propped up under Nihlus' thighs, Saren placed the head of his dick against that soft opening . Leaning up a little to be able to watch his face as he pushed in , most of his weight on the wrists against the bed. He felt them struggle against his hold, and he knew Nihlus loved the struggle. It always amp ed him up even though he inevitably lost in the end, and Saren did so love to win.
Nihlus’ muscular back bent sharply as he was filled . The rumble in Saren’s chest hacked and grew louder for a while. Chopped up by the ground out moan that he couldn't keep in. Spirits it was tight, always so tight that first time.
Lingering in the look of perfect bliss on Nihlus' face, his head thrown back, his mandibles spread wide in a silent shout , his breath caught somewhere on the way out of his throat . Saren rolled his hips once, twice, hilting inside his soft and warm body.
“Ah fuck,” Nihlus gasped, finally managing to get air back into his lungs. Body shuddering beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, Saren.” Moving his hips, ass still firmly lodged against Saren's plates, he made the length press around within him.
It had Saren growl and push into the space that wasn't there between them. Talons digging into the plates of Nihlus' wrists.
Nihlus raised his chin in a challenge and chirped. Are you going to follow that up? Saren slowly pulled out, eyes locked with emeralds on fire. H is wrists straining against their hold and Saren struggl ed to keep them in place. Both of them moaned loudly when plates met ass again, the well built back bent a second time , and oh , he’d hit so deep, just right . There was pain in Nihlus' voice, but the next second he was already asking for more.
“Again,” he shivered.
He got it. Again. And then again. And over and over as Saren set up a pace of hard and deep thrusts.
Nihlus spread out under him and stopped struggling, a keen in his throat. More, Spirits, more, yes! He moaned, turning his head and offering his neck. The image of him one of pure submission.
“Please, Saren,” he whimpered and his neck strained. “I need…”
Saren bit him again, deeper this time, growling as the blood hit his tongue and a few drops spilled out to pool at the hollow above Nihlus’ collarbone. It filled his nose with scents, warm and round. Nihlus’ skin so intoxicating and soft against his lips. It had Saren’s eyes roll up in his head and he felt himself slip away on the bliss of the steady, hard rhythm.
It must’ve hurt, but Nihlus kept thrilling out his pleasure, his mandible brushing up against Saren’s cheekblade. Maybe he was just in the mood to be punished? Maybe Saren knew exactly why and was more than ready to give it to him.
Running his talons down the soft, unplated skin on the insides of Nihlus' arms, leaving blue, raised welts down them. Nihlus whined, but didn't try to remove them from his sharp talons. The pale hands continued over his chest, dents imprinting in the plates , pricking the skin as they reached his waist. Saren let go of him with his teeth and sat up, the hold of Nihlus’ hips hard and steady, he upped the speed between them, taking both their breaths away.
For a while only the tight muscles around him, the warmth, the wetness, occupied his mind. Each slap of plates and skin pulled a gruff puff of air out of his lungs. His fingers scrambled for purchase over and over, Nihlus’ hips now sweaty and slick. Nicking his hide, the brown stomach soon colored blue.
The young Spectre had closed his eyes in bliss, neck splayed, his arms left above his head. Between his own heavy breathing and the sound of their coupling Saren could hear the; fuck, the; Ah, please, the; Yes, ah yes, more . It had to be the sexiest thing Saren had ever seen and the mark on his neck in form of his teeth put a special kind of fire in his gut. Something more animalistic than he really cared to admit to.
Nihlus bucked back against him.
“Harder,” he rasped, giving Saren pause. He was already giving Nihlus bruises on top of the trails his talons left and he'd have trouble sitting down the next day without a doubt. His body was bleeding, manhandled... The old Spectre wasn't one to take it slow in the bedroom. Spirits knew he liked his sex a lot rougher than the average turian and they’d played like this before, so he knew Nihlus also enjoyed it. But there was a tone of something in Nihlus’ voice this time that he didn't quite like.
“What are you doing?” Nihlus sneered when things slowed down instead. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him. There was a turmoil there that had Saren stop his movements completely, dick still hard and hot inside him. Nihlus lowered his arms to grip around his wrists, tried pulling himself down further, but Saren was unrelenting. “Come on, Saren,” he begged, thrilling out his best submittance. But the old Spectre knew him well enough to hear beneath the words.
The same desperate wish for oblivion, to forget what he'd done, was there. I t had joined with a begging; punish me, please, I deserve to be punished. I am bad, I am worthless, I am trash. That path led to dark places. Places he didn't want for Nihlus.
Without uttering a word, eyes hard, he pulled out and flipped him over on his stomach by the firm grip on his hips. Pulling him up on his knees and lowering in over him, one arm slid in under his shoulder, to grab it for leverage, his face buried in his neck. Breathing in the wonderful air of sex and just simply Nihlus , Saren held his weight up with one hand on the cover next to them. Searching, sliding his dick along the skin of the young man's ass, feeling him shiver in his arms, he found that opening he was looking for and pressed in. There was no hurry now, instead he took his time, slowly letting himself be enveloped again by his warmth.
When Nihlus tried to move back against him, he moved along with him, making sure the boy was denied what he searched, then stopped moving entirely until he had relented to being passive.
“Saren,” he grunted where he rested, face down into the bedding, obviously irritated by the slow pace.
The old Spectre purred in his ear, reassurance , something he hadn't done for anyone in... Maybe ever.
“Relax, Nihlus.” He nipped along his cheekblade and rolled his hips again.
The sounds in the room changed. Heavy breaths instead of begging moans filled the space. Nihlus tried to hurry this up, again and again. And again and again Saren denied him. Until a frustrated noise, muffled by the bed, slipped between Nihlus’ lips.
“Come on,” he tried again, closing his eyes against the turmoil that Saren saw was threatening to break through the surface.
“Shh.” Saren moved his hands over Nihlus’ skin, down and all over. Slow, warm, soft. Relax.
Nihlus was a lot of things, but worthless trash was not one of them. He was everything wonderful and light. Every bright shade of color. Every gust of spring air after a hard winter. How many times hadn’t he relied on that company to keep him stable in rough situations? He owed him this, and so much more. For the joy he brought into his life. Keeping him from going down that dark path himself. Saren refused to let Nihlus shroud himself in darkness. He’d take that wet, heavy blanket and tear it to shreds. He wished he could say all this, let Nihlus hear it, speak the words, but they got stuck in his throat. Instead he hoped his feelings came out in every touch and kiss and squeeze.
Saren worshiped Nihlus’ body, his neck covered in kisses and nips as they moved together again. Feeling him slowly relax into the administrations, muscles twitching under his pale hands when they let go of the tension. Slow, steady they fit, without effort. Until he heard the smallest of sounds. Something broke inside Nihlus and Saren brushed their mandibles together when emerald eyes started filling with water. A tear rolled down his dark cheek and Saren caught it with his lips. It’s okay, he wanted to say. You’re safe here. Nihlus turned his head away to hide, face down into the covers and for a second Saren wondered if he should stop. But Nihlus didn’t halt in his movements.
Saren reached for one of his hands, and when he intertwined their fingers and squeezed, Nihlus turned his head back towards him, his eyes still blurry and now a little puffed around the edges. There was so much there, in that simple look, that Saren didn’t know where to begin and instead of dealing he rested his foreplate against the back of Nihlus’ head and the tempo between them changed again. Moving together in earnest now, towards the same goal. Their breaths deepened and matched pace. Small sounds of pleasure escaped Nihlus at each exhale.
“Saren…” he breathed.
“Nihlus...” he answered, and found the same sounds in his own voice. He was glad he couldn’t meet his gaze just now to see the response to all the emotion in his vocals.
The grip of their hands tightened. The other hand that kept Saren’s weight off Nihlus was caught and guided down between his legs. It made him put his entire weight on him, crush him into the soft bed, but Nihlus didn’t seem to mind as he made them both close a tight grip around his length. Everything Saren could hear was his own rapidly beating heart and the sound of Nihlus nearing his edge. It didn’t take much more than a few motions of their interlocked fingers to tip him over it. Saren felt it when he tensed and pulsed and it made his hips stutter and a few ragged breaths later he was pushed right along with him.
T hey sagged down into the bed and it took Saren a moment to find the energy to roll off him.
“Fuck…” he heard Nihlus’ voice, weak and shaky, and the young man curled in on himself.
“Hm…” was all Saren could muster, not knowing what to say to those wet cheeks. But he pulled Nihlus’ shaking body in against his own and hid him in his arms. “Shh…” He caressed soft hands down his back to soothe him.
Nihlus rested his foreplate in the crook below Saren’s chin and Saren felt the wet drip down his neck. He’d never been one to know how to deal with tears, but in this particular situation he didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry…” Nihlus started and sniffed.
“Shh,” Saren said again and hugged him tight in a squeeze. Nihlus had nothing to be sorry for. “You’re exhausted, sleep.”
Nihlus sniffed again, and seemed like he was about to argue. But then he must’ve caught something in Saren’s voice, because he burrowed against him and relaxed.
Saren pulled a cover over the both of them and settled in to keep vigil over his honest to spirits wrecked friend. But it only took five or so minutes, during which Nihlus’ sobs calmed down and Saren heard when his breath evened out as he fell asleep.
I t was the light shining in through the windows that brought him up from the mess of dreams he’d been in. Nihlus blinked slowly awake and stretched. The bed seemed too big for some reason and when he reached out he found the spot next to him already cold. His mandibles sagged. So it was to be one of those mornings… Why did Saren still feel the need to sneak out in the middle of the night? It wasn’t like they’d been lovers for how many years now? And especially after what they’d shared last night. What the hell had that been? Nihlus didn’t even know where to begin with that.
But it was too early to handle the mess of emotions that he’d stormed through last night, so Nihlus put that thought away on a shelf to take down later for a deeper inspection. Next to the other boxes that gathered dust there, that he’d promised to go through. He didn’t have high hopes this one would be any different, but he could fool himself if he wanted to, damn it.
Nihlus groaned as he sat up, his body protesting. Sore beyond belief. But it wasn’t the muscle aches or the tender spots that felt the worst. Spirits, he was completely and utterly drained. Like an empty vessel, maybe even a little numb. Breakfast, fuel, that’s what he needed. So he stood and rummaged through his bag until he found some soft slacks and an over-sized sweater. He had the day off, and yeah… maybe he needed it.
His feet dragged along the floor making his way out toward the kitchenette in the large living space , hands tucked in the big pocket of his hoodie. But when he stepped outside the bedroom door he stopped. Blinking. The little table by the big windows was set. With breakfast. Warm breakfast. And tea. Steam was rising from the kettle in small, squiggly wisps. Nihlus blinked again, his brain fe eling like it was moving through syrup.
“Morning.” Saren walked over to the table and sat down. His fringe looked damp from a shower, and the shirt he was wearing was rumpled. Nihlus only noticed, because it was so rare to see Saren in a wrinkly shirt.
“Morning.” Nihlus came over to sit opposite him. Curling up with his knees above the edge of the table, feet folded under himself. He studied Saren. Still not quite sure what was happening. Saren had stayed? And on top of that made them breakfast, like some old married couple. Why? Saren had made it clear very early on that wasn’t something he wanted. To settle down into a routine with someone, where every day became mundane. Like breakfast. Nihlus believed that Saren just didn’t want to become reliant on someone else. Of course, he’d never tell him that.
Saren ignored his searching eyes and didn’t say anything, only started spreading butter on a piece of bread. But then the man had never been very talkative in the morning a nd Nihlus didn’t know what to say. How to broach the subject of last night, of what Saren had done for him. And for that matter, that box was still on the in progress shelf, and it wasn’t time yet to take it down.
So silent they sat, sharing a good, long breakfast together. Eating while they looked out through the window, watching the already bustling Citadel move about their morning. Maybe they didn’t have to talk about it. Maybe the fact that Saren had stayed the night was words enough.
It wasn’t until Nihlus was on his second cup of tea that he found his voice, feeling that one thing in all of this, at least, had to be said out loud.
“Thank you.”
Saren looked at him over the rim of his own newly poured cup of tea. His face didn’t change, but Nihlus could tell he understood all that the thanks was about. A flick of his mandibles in acceptance was all he got as Saren leaned back in his chair and turned back towards the window.
“What’s your plans going forward?” he asked.
Nihlus wet his lips, they felt dry and cracked , like the rest of him. He too needed a shower.
“Honestly? Nothing. I haven’t gotten an assignment yet. So…” he shrugged. Rest? Nihlus shied away from the thought of nothing to do. Nothing to fill his days with but silence and, he imagined, soon loneliness as Saren went on to whatever it was he was up to. It always left room for his thoughts to roam free. And sometimes, when he was especially drained, like now, the demons started clawing their way up from the dark corners where he’d banished them.
He saw Saren’s subtle sideways glance. Those icy blue eyes landing on him, calculating for a moment.
“I could use your help. I’m heading back out into the Attican Traverse later today.”
Nihlus’ eyebrows raised high. “Really? I mean yes, sure. Why not?” He jumped at the chance, before Saren took back his offer. The man so rarely asked for help. But it was of course not only because he needed to have something to keep the demons at bay. It was also because it was Saren who asked. They saw each other so very rarely, and usually only in brief bursts of time. A steamy night here, bumping into each other there, on their way to other things. Sometimes Nihlus missed his training years. Going on missions with Saren. He was aware he romanticized that time and was usually painfully reminded of it when they did end up working together. Still, he’d take the chance now.
S aren nodded once and rose to start clearing the table, still with his cup of tea in hand.
It wasn’t until they were both properly dressed and locked the door behind them that Nihlus realized.
“This is what you talked to Tevos about, last night, wasn’t it?” he asked, suddenly sure of it.
Saren didn’t answer, but Nihlus felt like the look he gave him was especially soft.