Ask Back To The Hustle

[Darth Arcanos]

His exploits on Zygerria from several weeks ago were sent as a report to the Dark Lord, but she was on travel. Azar was in no rush to have the information shared, because he assumed it would come with far more exposure than he cared for. The pureblood was back on Umbara and teaching in the academy. In addition to the focus on alchemy, he was now also in charge of running acolytes through the fundamentals of the Sith Code and Sith history.

Azar enjoyed teaching considerably more than he expected, mainly because he realized he had the power of influence. Instead of a single apprentice, he was planting seeds within the minds of entire cohorts. If they built off the principles he planted, they would all ultimately march to the tune he set. Perhaps this was a gift more than a nuisance.

The pureblood was adorned in fitting attire, reviewing some ancient Sith texts with the acolytes. Azar had written out phrases in ur-Kittat on the board that they had to memorize and translate.

“Next week, all of you must submit essay on Sith castes..written in ur-Kittat,” Azar knew a few of them would complain about how pointless these assignments were, and he relished the thought of choking those students or poisoning them.

“Who can tell me about the four castes?”

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys had only arrived back at the Umbaran academy a few days ago. The entire time after arriving back home he had to finish final reports to the Dark Lord. Each report appraised her on the Sith who had been selected to serve on the Zygerrian Council.

Scerria Vanda, a human female Champion, her family had apparent ties to a labor requisition corporation. She would have reliable access to clients to ensure income.

Myn Antik, a Muun male Master, a co-executive of a Muun banking clan on Muunilist. He understood finances, with his keen eye on the books, there would be no theft.

Sion Kalan, a Zygerrian male Champion, a native of the world. He was picked purely to keep up appearances with the rest of the Galaxy.

While Karys hadn’t done the selections himself, he was an Acolyte after all. He had been involved as a representative of Azar, thus his opinions held a bit more weight than it otherwise would have.

On Zygerria whenever Karys found personal time, between meetings and administrative duties, he found himself thinking back to his time with Azar. As such, he had a few things made for the other Pureblood and took a valuable item from the Palace as well. He had gifts for Azar prepared for when he could next see him.

That day was today and Karys would surprise Azar while he was teaching a class.

Karys peered into the window of the room, watching as Azar taught his class in his impressive attire. Karys on the hand wore a simple Acolyte’s robe which covered a beige shirt with “I Fvcked Zygerria” written in black ink and in ur-Kittat on the front. A pair navy shorts, and a pair of black sneakers. And had a bag over his shoulder with the gifts in it.

He slid into the class with a student who was returning from using the restroom. His head was dropped low and his hood was drawn to ensure Azar wouldn’t notice his arrival. He took a seat at a desk near the door that he was sure was empty and dropped his bag near the desk.

He sat silently in the class, simply watching Azar as he passionately lectured his students. Karys drank in that passion and let it surge through his veins. When Azar finally asked the final question, Karys would speak up, hoping Azar would recognize his voice.

<The Zuguruk, were the slave caste were they not?> he started, intentionally getting his answer wrong to draw Azar’s attention to him. <The Grotthu, were the warrior caste.> He continued, his intentional wrong answers. <The Massassi, we’re engineers of the highest quality.> A smirk appeared on his face at this point.

Then Karys would pull his hood back before answering correctly with the final caste.

<The Kissai, they were the ones with the real power. Priests and sorcerers, the most impressive of our kind.> He finished and that smirk turned into a soft yet happy smile.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar paused, his gaze flicking over to the voice that spoke. The class was also looking at him, hearing the student confidently blurt out all the wrong answers. Azar leaned against his table, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Karys for a moment, “Class, if you give answer like that next week, I will have you test samples of my potions for quality check,” He said with a faint smirk, his gaze never leaving Karys.

The entire class shuffled uncomfortably. Azar had begun to get a reputation for his lethal potions and poisons. Rumors about Anoth and Zygerria already started to make the rounds, though the finer details about Azar and Karys never made it out.

“See me after class, Acolyte Sadow, and we discuss why pureblood like you know so little about own people,” He said curtly before he returned to writing on the chalkboard. The other acolytes snickered and smugly looked over at Karys. Getting into trouble with Azar was terrifying to most students, and this was the equivalent of being called to the principal’s office.

The rest of the class proceeded as normal. Azar took no special notice of Karys - he was a professional after all. If Karys observed the class, he would notice that all the students were completely enthralled in anything Azar had to say, hooked on the stories and the nuances of his teaching.

Soon enough class was dismissed and the other students filed out. Azar was the only one left as he looked over and spotted Karys still there. The pureblood gave him a smirk as he started putting books away, “I don’t recall Karys Sadow signing for this course,” He said simply. He was pleased to see the other man, far more than he cared to admit, “I trust the transition of power went smoothly on Zygerria?”

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

When Azar leaned forward on his desk, locked eyes with Karys, and smirked the younger man was suddenly thankful his skin was already red. He felt his cheeks run hot, as he gazed back at the “potions-master”. When Azar mentioned the quality check of his potion and demanded Karys meet with him after class, he cocked a suggestive eyebrow ridge back at his professor.

Karys heard the surrounding Acolytes snicker and saw a few shot him glances. Eventually, the class would settle back into a rhythm and students would lean in as Azar taught. Karys propped his head up on his arm and simply watched Azar teach. He could see how passionate Azar was about his posting, even if he acted like that wasn’t the case, it was painted in every word he uttered. Karys’ eyes would occasionally flicker from the handsome professor and to the class. He saw no Acolyte sleeping on their desk and it largely wasn’t out of fear either. Instead, the class clung onto Azar’s every word. They wanted to learn the knowledge he shared with them, no matter how basic.

Witnessing this level of passion birthed a content smile on Karys face.

When class would dismiss, Karys would wait around until the younger Acolytes had cleared out. He stayed sitting at his desk until there were none left and then he would approach Azar. He was sure to gently pick up the drawstring bag by the desk and carry it with him as he walked to the front of the class. As he passed Azar’s desk, he’d leave the bag on it and approach the other Pureblood. He would come alongside him and begin to help put Azar’s books away, paying close attention to how the Potions-master had organized them on his shelves.

When Azar made his comment about not signing up for his course, Karys dropped his head and gave a small laugh. After a moment, he’d look back up at Azar, there was a small but genuine smile that reflected the happiness in his eyes.

<I don’t think I took this class in my informative years…> Karys teased as he continued shelving the last few books in his arms. <…would you believe me if I told you that I missed you?> He asked.

At Azar’s question, Karys would nod.

<As smoothly as it could I suppose.> He began. <But if you had told me the amount of administrative and logistical work that went into conquering a world, I might have tried to dissuade you from poisoning the Queen.> Karys teased with a smirk.

Karys would then break his gaze to look back to his bag and gave Azar a mischievous glace.

<I also might have brought you back some things.> Karys told him before taking Azar’s hand and guiding him towards the desk.

Karys would produce two things from the bag. The first was a very obviously wrapped goblet of some sort. The paper was smooth against its surface, even before it was unwrapped, Azar would be able to tell what this was. The goblet he had sipped from while lounging on the throne. The other was a long ornate wooden box that opened on a hinge. Karys refused to give this to him until the goblet had been opened.

This other gift was far more thoughtful. Something Karys would make apparent as Azar opened the box.

<You told me at dinner that using those utensils were difficult for you.> He started but paused until Azar finished opening the box.

In it, Azar would find a set of long golden utensils. Each would have three loops where he was meant to slide his fingers through with tiny indents where his digits were meant to rest. The surface of the utensils had Passion written on them in ur-Kittat. Each was designed to allow him to eat far more comfortably without having to struggle manipulating cutlery by using a jabbing motion with his three fingers in conjunction with the loops to help hold them in place.

<So I had something made for you that would be easier.> He finished as Azar took in the gift. <Well?> Karys asked, a clear expression of nervousness written on his face.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar certainly appreciated the help in putting the books away. It was methodical and automatic for him to do so without assistance, and Karys proactively offering caught him off guard. He paused when Karys implied he missed Azar. Azar smirked to himself, putting another book away without looking at Karys, “I do believe that, Loth-kitten,” He said quietly, barely above a whisper. It was in ur-Kittat, and yet he kept his tone low.

The Pureblood finished up with the books, looking over curiously when Karys suggested that he brought things for him. Azar expected trinkets or Zygerrian items, but he entertained Karys regardless. He unwrapped the first item, chuckling to himself at once, “Oh I remember this,” He said with a sultry tone, his gaze flicking up to eye Karys. He wouldn’t forget that ride on the throne anytime soon. Nor would he forget the surprising amount of passion between the two men as their minds melded through the experience.

Azar admired the goblet in silence for a long moment, spinning it slowly in his hand to eye it from all angles. He set it down, stepping forth towards the box. He eyed Karys curiously as he mentioned Azar’s troubles with outsider utensils. The pureblood opened the box and there was a sharp intake of breath.

It was impossible to judge what Azar thought of the items for a long moment. He simply stared in complete silence, frozen as a statue, as he looked at the custom-made utensils. When he finally moved, it was because a thumb brushed over the engraved ur-Kittat on the utensils. There was a whirl of emotions within him that threatened to flood through a dam that was straining. He recalled his life back on Korriban and the family he thought mattered more than anything. He thought of his sister, the one he went so far for that he chose exile. This was the first time someone had shown a consideration for him that wasn’t just his family. It was almost overwhelming, and he was almost too afraid to let it in. Maybe it was far simpler than that, perhaps he was overthinking.

Azar slowly turned his gaze to look at Karys, “What….” He was struggling with words and he couldn’t even blame it on not being fluent in Basic this time, “What do you desire from me, Karys?” It was perhaps the first time Azar had addressed him by his name.

THEME​

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

THEME​

Karys watched as Azar opened the gifts. While he was most excited for Azar to open the utensils, he still loved the flash of passion in Azar's eyes. It sent a ripple of goosebumps up his arms. He couldn't forget the throne, the pleasure and passion of knowing Azar. The way they melded on an almost spiritual level at the Palace before dinner was beyond intense and intimate for Karys. That experienced etched itself in his memory, it dulled the sensation of anyone else and it left him longing for Azar.

Once Azar opened the box with his real gift, Karys froze. His crimson eyes searched across Azar's frozen features, he hunted for a flicker of emotion, something to know he hadn't crossed a line. It was when Azar's thumb gently stroked the ur-Kittat runes, that Karys felt some of his tension fade. He only realized that he had been holding his breath this entire time, his inhale came in a sharp and skipped several times. The concern melted from Karys' face when Azar's eyes slowly returned to him.

Karys' face took on a confused look when Azar questioned what he had desired from him. Azar had told him, himself that he would only take Karys when Karys desired the man Azar. That is why Karys had gotten Azar this gift, he saw a moment of weakness in the man he desired and decided to ensure no-one else would ever see that moment again.

Karys ran a gentle hand overtop the sleeve of Azar's robe, the look of confusion too faded into a gentle gaze. Karys gave Azar a small smile. <You.> Karys replied breathily. <I already told you this.> He explained in a hushed tone. <I desire to know Azar and what kind of man he truly is.> He whispered.

Karys wasn't sure how Azar would react to those words. Even as he spoke them, Karys would take a step into Azar, his hand still creeping up the other man's arm. He would gently grip the outside of Azar's elbow, pulling the man towards him. <Can I get to know the man you are Azar Kressh?> He asked quietly, the emotion in his words and eyes laid bare to the other man.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

He was taught to believe that no Sith could be trusted. Karys was a Sadow. Every instinct told him to scoff at this, to turn away, to walk away. And yet he stood there staring into those crimson eyes. They terrified most humans, but Azar could see into them. They were windows into Karys’ thoughts, and he laid himself bare. Karys wasn’t afraid to speak his mind in ways even Azar wasn’t brave enough to do despite being older and wiser.

Azar had toppled an empire, he had ascended the Sith ranks, he was a formidable force to be reckoned with, he had a fierce reputation. And yet he felt like the Loth-kitten. He felt Karys’ touch against his arm, and it sent a jolt through him. Azar heard his words, Karys having remembered every detail from Zygerria. If they were back on Korriban in the old days, Azar would concoct a poison for him. Karys would charge in with his Sith blades to cut Azar into pieces.

Azar looked over towards the chalkboard where he had written out some of the old texts. The ones that spoke of the Sith and their history. It outlined the great clans and houses. It spoke to the castes and just how separated they were. And yet those thoughts blurred with Karys’ touch against his arm. When did this happen? When did this boy that Azar considered nothing more than a grunt navigate his way inside Azar’s guard? Was he like this with everyone? Azar’s mind briefly flicked back to the bounty hunter he mentioned when he first arrived on Zygerria. Why was Azar’s mind even going there?

The potionsmaster turned to look up at the handsome pureblood standing before him. Azar exhaled softly before closing the distance. He pressed his forehead against Karys’ muscled chest, closing his eyes. This was still a classroom, so they could take it no further here, but he lingered there. He heard Karys’ heartbeat, felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest, inhaled all the familiar scents and felt that torso that became such a source of comfort for him. Karys was the oasis after he had been trekking through the deserts of Korriban for days on end.

Azar wanted to know this man, and he wanted Karys to know him. He wanted Karys to know his vulnerabilities and weaknesses. He wanted Karys to see him topple a hundred more empires. He wanted Karys to see him bring entire nations to heel. As long as he could press his forehead against this chest at the end of it all. As long as he could sink into these arms and surrender himself.

But Azar said none of that. It was too frightening. He didn’t even realize that simply leaning against Karys for so long may have accidentally conveyed more than he wished.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost slightly muffled, but the words were unmistakable, “I missed you too, Loth-kitten..”

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys gazed into Azar’s beautiful golden eyes for what seemed like hours. He lost himself as he swam in those perfect pools. His soft searching gaze saw nothing but everything at the same time. He felt the emotion as it radiated between them, building into crescendos before crashing. It rolled through him in uneasy waves that both heightened his anxieties and brought calmness.

Then Azar’s eyes closed and he leaned into Karys chest.

Karys’ breath hitched. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to come from his confession, but this wasn’t the first that came to his mind. After a moment that hung in space for an eternity, Azar would feel the hand that gripped his elbow slowly snake across his back. Karys other hand would slide up Azar’s back to gently run his fingers through the other man’s hair. His chin would rest on the top of Azar’s head, his eyes too closed, a contented smile crept onto his face. Karys wished for an eternity just like this, he would stand here and hold Azar to his chest for as long as the other man wanted.

This is what he craved. Intimacy and connection on a level that couldn’t be described. In the strangest turn of events, Azar was the one he craved it with. Karys would gently rest his lips on Azar’s head, he’d breathe in his scent.

This would be the one place in the Galaxy that Azar would find true safe harbor, even if Karys wasn’t aware of it yet.

Then the intimate silence that had settled between them was broken with Azar’s own confession. The other Pureblood would feel Karys kiss the top of his head in response. A wordless affirmation of what Azar communicated.

<I know.> Came the eventual reply.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar wasn’t even sure how long he stayed like that, but it took him right back home. He remembered the grains of sand flowing between his fingers as he sat on a dune. He remembered that vivid sunset, felt the heat on his face, and heard the chatter of his people behind him. Back when the rest of the galaxy simply didn’t matter. Azar buried his face against that comfortable chest, feeling Karys’ fingers gently brush through his hair.

It felt like an eternity before he finally pulled back. Azar gazed up at the other man- taller, bigger, younger, perhaps even foolish, and yet he invoked things the older Sith couldn’t explain. Azar was silent for a moment before finally drew back. He neatly packed up the gifts, taking great care with the items. He bade for Karys to walk with him as he closed up the classroom.

“I have quarters at this academy now,” Azar explained as he led them away from the classrooms and down a corridor that led deeper into the academy, “Where do you reside?” From his understanding, acolytes used to be offered dormitories, but these days they were packed into shared space wherever possible.

Azar opened the doors to a cozy little living space. There was a large window that oversaw the vibrant, luminescent flora of Umbara. There was a main living area and his bed up above that in a loft. There were rows upon rows of tomes and texts, along with a giant cauldron surrounded by formulas, beakers and materials. There was a small kitchenette off to the side, and he gently set down the gifts near there.

“What do you wish to learn about Azar Kressh?” Azar asked Karys curiously as he looked at him.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

When Karys felt Azar’s head leave his chest, a pang of sadness echoed out from where he had rested moments before. It was a feeling that never reached the younger Pureblood’s eyes. Instead, as Azar pulled back to gaze at him, Karys would allow him to slide from his arms without resistance.

Karys would draw in a deep, slow breath as their gazes met again. It would only be when Azar turned to gather his things and Karys’ gifts that the younger Sith would notice the chalkboard. He would stare at the symbols of their houses, the crest of Sadow glared back at him. He felt the judgement of his ancestor in that crest.

There was a moment where the insurmountable pressure of what they were built. He knew what his House would expect him to do in this situation. They’d want him to snap Azar’s neck while his guard was down. It was an image that haunted Karys, it disgusted him. He also knew what his family would do if they uncovered what he and Azar had done. When Azar beckoned him to follow, Karys would linger for a moment longer.

Karys walked towards the board, and gazed back at it. His jaw tensed, rage tinted with fear inked into his being. He wanted to reach up and wipe the symbol away, to wipe away the legacy of a Sith that burned in his veins. But he couldn’t. Instead, he turned and walked out of the room to follow Azar.

Karys presence would have obviously shifted when he joined Azar. For the first time, Azar would see concern plainly written on Karys’ face. But the younger man didn’t speak at first, when he did it wouldn’t be about his living arrangements.

<My father is a nobleman of House Sadow.> He told Azar as they walked, the implication was clear. <He will flay me if he finds this out.> Karys continued, his gaze turned down to the other man. There was the same longing desire but it was mixed with fear now.

As he said this, Karys would allow his hand to brush against Azar. He hunted for comfort in that touch. Zygerria had been a moment that altered him forever but could also potentially damn him. He had made a choice then, he was now understanding there would be no turning back now.

For him, there was no turning back from Azar Kressh.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar looked over when Karys paused in the corridor. There was a long moment of silence as Azar considered the words. He knew the implications of their houses, and it was entertaining to hear Karys bring it up when he lectured Azar about how the rivalries of old did not matter on Zygerria. The Pureblood felt Karys’s hand brush his and Azar did nothing initially. He calmly gazed at Karys, bringing up a hand to trace gently along the side of his face.

“He will,” He stated curtly as he traced his fingers along Karys’ skin. Azar did not sugarcoat, so if Karys was looking for that, he wouldn’t find it here, “You will perhaps shame your family name and honor,” He said flatly, gazing up into those crimson eyes. A part of Azar was surprised Karys had even mentioned it as if the possibility of this getting back to his parents was realistic. What was ‘this’ between them? Was it not as superficial as Azar assumed Karys found it? He gave voice to none of those thoughts, his fingers tracing down his neck and towards his chest.

“Only you can choose if you wish to walk through fire,” Azar said after a long moment. He grasped Karys hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles, “I cannot choose for you, Loth-kitten,” He tenderly brushed his face against his hand before releasing it. With that, Azar turned and kept walking to his quarters. Once he reached them, he left the door open.

Karys could decide if he wished to step inside and close the door behind him.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Azar stopped and gazed at him, those golden eyes pierced Karys. When Azar’s hand gently reached up and traced his face, Karys leaned into the touch. Azar’s words spoke to the harsh reality of the crossroads Karys stood at. A choice that should have been made for him eons ago stood in question.

Desire and passion or loyalty and tradition?

As Azar’s hand fell from Karys face and ran down his chest, it left a void behind. A place where this intensity threatened to sputter out out. The seeds of fear and desperation bloomed in that infertile ground.

As Azar walked away, his voice echoed in the back of Karys’ mind. He had always been enslaved by his House. Meant to serve it in one way or another until his dying day. It wasn’t until his brother died, murdered by his own hand, that he finally understood freedom. The Sith had allowed Karys to free himself, they offered an opportunity to define who he was on his own terms.

Ziost would have never allowed this.

His mind turned back to the lessons of youth, of his ancestor. The proud Naga Sadow. The Sith Lord who had recognized the Sith people for what they had become, stagnant. He raged against that, freeing himself from the chains of tradition and setting their species on a trajectory that couldn’t be undone.

Ziost was unchanging.

Finally, Karys mind remembered the first lines of the code the Drast had drawn up. From Passion, I gain Strength. The Acolyte’s mind tugged at his earliest happy memories, none were heralded by the cold winds of Ziost. The only emotions that flooded through him were of pain and loss and misery there.

Here he found an intensity in the flames of passion that he’d never felt before.

The decision wasn’t easily made. It couldn’t be. Karys eyes turned and looked back down the hallway. He could turn and walk away, perhaps try to make amends and return to his House’s privileged yoke. Or, he could heed the examples of his forbearer, the Drast, and countless other Sith who had come before him.

He could trust in his Passion.

————————

The door to Azar’s chambers had nearly closed on its own, it had nearly clicked shut, when something stopped it. The toe of a white shoe, prevented this door from closing. A red hand pushed the door open and the form of Karys, Son of Ziost stepped into the room.

There was fear still in his eyes. His presence dripped with uncertainty about what the future held. It was evident on his face and in the slight tremor of his hand when it shut the door behind him. Just like in the throne room, Karys’ steps were even and measured, each one echoing a point through the chamber to Azar.

He’d chosen this, whatever it was.

Karys’ gaze locked onto Azar, he took a steadying breath as he approached. His fingers lightly dragged over the surfaces as he passed them, he wanted to feel each texture of the room. He soaked it all in, it wasn’t what he had expected.

Eventually, he would come to a stop before Azar and simply offer him his hand. Crimson eyes searched Azar’s. Then Karys spoke.

<Passion leads to Strength…> He whispered just as he had done on Zygerria.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar stopped trying to make sense of anything. He was meticulous, practiced, analytical, measured. All of that went out the window when it came to Karys and he couldn’t explain it. He stopped fighting it because it took far more effort to fight it than to simply embrace it. They were playing a dangerous game - it was dangerous for their houses and it was dangerous in the Sith Order. These things could be exploited. For all he knew Karys was doing just that. But did Azar truly care? He would worry about it if it blew up in his face, which was the very opposite of how he operated.

He gazed at Karys as the door shut behind him. There was no one watching now. Azar was in his own quarters and there was no one to take anything away from him. He was the king of this domain, no matter how tiny it was. The pureblood gazed at Karys’ hand when he extended it, reaching out to grasp it. Azar closed the distance between them, his hands sliding up along Karys’ chest. He heard Karys utter those words, that phrase from the Sith Code penned in by their liberator. Their conqueror. A faint smile traced his lips as he pushed Karys against the wall behind him, moving in to kiss the other man. He had to lean up to kiss the taller man, pressing against him with Karys pinned against the wall behind him.

“On the contrary, Loth-kitten..” Azar murmured against Karys’ lips, “You make me feel rather weak,” He admitted quietly before he resumed the kiss. It was a dangerous admission, and one that lingered in his psyche far longer than he desired. Was he kissing the man he would murder one day? Would he kill him because the Dark Lord had such a whim? He thought of how readily he struck at Zorya. Was Karys the same? He tore those thoughts up, losing himself in the passionate kiss and savoring the taste of the other man that he desperately missed.

His hands worked urgently to remove the robes from Karys. He traced his kisses tenderly down Karys’ neck and towards his collarbone just as the robes fell away down to Karys’ feet. It was then that he paused what he was doing, his yellow gaze flicking down to the shirt Karys was wearing. He took a moment to read the letters, a comically surprised look on his face. And then Azar did something that he hadn’t done in years - he laughed. It began as a quiet chuckle and then turned into a full blown laugh, a breezy and lighthearted sound that one would never expect from the feared potion master. It sounded more like a giggle than anything, and he actually looked away to stifle it, his face turning possibly redder than it already was.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

When Azar got up and made his way over to Karys, he felt his heart race. Why did he feel this way? How did it happen? And why did it matter so much? Karys drank in Azar's touch, it was intoxicating. When Azar pushed him against the wall, a smile crossed Karys' face. By the time Azar's lips touched his, Karys was no longer trying to justify his decision. Instead, his mind only raced to think of how to protect whatever this was. How to snuff out any who threatened it. Ziost was no longer home, it was an obstacle to be eliminated before it was an issue.

He'd burn them all, just to feel the heat of Azar's lips against his.

Karys felt Azar undoing his robe, he heard his whispers, Loth-kitten it was a term of endearment that made Karys shiver and grin during their kiss. It was when Karys heard the confession from Azar that his hand's wrapped around the man's waist. He pulled away for a moment, his crimson eyes flickered to the box on the countertop and then back to Azar.

<Don't worry,> Karys replied breathily. <I'll just carry you then.>

He'd lift Azar from his feet as he said this, one of his hands sliding beneath him, he'd squeeze as he lifted, while the other hand slid up his back. He'd spin them, pinning Azar between him and the wall that was behind them. As Azar traced kisses down his jawline, neck, and collar, Karys would groan in pleasure. Then Azar stopped and Karys heard something so pure, a laugh.

A look of confusion washed over Karys as he saw the potion-master's amused face, his gaze traced Azar's own. <Oh.> He laughed in response. The shirt, he'd forgotten the shirt he was wearing beneath the robes. He didn't lean in to kiss Azar again, instead he simply listened to and then join in the man's laughter.

For now, all his fears dissipated.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

There was a sharp intake of breath as Karys effortlessly lifted him up. His arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he gazed down at the other man. His legs wrapped around his hips, a rush coursing through him. He desired Karys beyond what he could describe with words, and it terrified him in some ways because it went beyond just physical. He was older, so he should have been able to navigate this, but it perplexed him still.

Their shared laughter only caused his heart to beat faster. The laughter trailed away naturally, but the smile remained on his face. One of his hands affectionately caressed the back of Karys’ head, fingers gently curling into his hair. The other man was intoxicating. Azar brewed countless concoctions, potions and even tonics that could invoke heightened emotions and rage. And yet Azar could never create anything to invoke what he felt now. He couldn’t manufacture anything to recreate the sensations of seeing Karys smile at him, to feel the way he felt when he was in Karys’ arms, to recreate what it felt like when Karys looked at him. Him. Not the potion master, not the prophet, not the Sith Champion, not even Kressh. Just Azar.

He leaned down to kiss Karys again, tightening the grip around his hips with his legs. Azar’s hand gently ran along the side of his face before he drew back, gazing fondly into his eyes, “Make love to me,” He whispered softly, barely audible. He would hold on tightly as Karys carried him to the bed in the loft. Azar was easy enough to carry for someone as big as Karys, and he savored that feeling of surrendering himself to the other man.

He wanted nothing more than to feel Karys’ skin against, feel their hearts beating together, find that meld with their minds again and go to a place only they knew.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

As the laughter settled between them, Karys would rest his forehead against Azar's. What was this feeling? Karys' hand gripped the back of Azar's robe as he craned upwards to meet Azar's lips. The ghost of a mischievous smirk appeared on his lips, as he toyed with the other man. Bringing his lips to the cusp of meeting Azar's before pulling back slightly, teasing him, building the lust and anticipation. Eventually, once Karys was sure he'd built the hunger up in Azar, he'd lean into the kiss as well.

Then the mood shifted.

The teasing, the laugher, all of it culminated in Karys feeling Azar's hand lightly stroke the side of his face. Karys closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek into the affectionate gesture. Then, as Karys reopened his fiery crimsons eyes, Azar asked him to make love to him. Not fuck him. Make love.

Karys gazed into Azar's eyes, this was uncharted territory for him. He had been in hook ups, he had been in affectionate one night stands, but making love? The word brought a new depth that he couldn't anticipate, he kissed Azar gently as a wordless reply. Then his feet carried the pair towards Azar's loft. To his bed. To get lost in an ocean of sheets.

As the pair laid down, Karys would begin to remove Azar's robe. Or he'd try to. In any other moment, Karys would have likely laughed at his own foggy minded inability to figure out the damned robe. After several seconds of swearing in Sith and Basic alike and with some help from Azar, Karys was able to disrobe his partner.

Then younger Pureblood would lean in for a hungry kiss that would trail downward. As Karys' kisses reached Azar's naval, one of his massive hands would slide up to his chest. It would pin Azar in place as Karys continued his downward exploratory kisses, a hungry predator hunting for his prize.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

----​

“I will have to get out of this bed eventually, Loth-kitten,” Azar murmured softly with a faint grin. He had lost track of how much time had passed, but he savored the warmth of being wrapped up in Karys’ arms. His mind had been focused on their passions and their time together, but he thought about the implications of it afterwards. Azar was largely exiled and had no real ties to his family anymore. Karys, on the other hand.. Was Azar dragging Karys down a path he didn’t wish? Azar turned to regard him in silence, his own desires fighting with what was best for the other man. He chastised himself for such thoughts that even entertained putting someone else’s interests above his own.

Azar stole a quick kiss from his partner before gently extracting himself from Karys’ arms, “Come on, we are a mess,” He reminded Karys. He felt that familiar, but not unwelcome, ache as he rose to stand. He invited Karys to his modest refresher so the two could wash off. After they emerged again, Azar didn’t bother with new robes, putting on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and leaving his tattooed torso bare for now.

He was back downstairs, hearing the sounds of a storm outside. Rain splattered against the large circular window on the main level and he observed it for a moment. It wasn’t a common occurrence on Korriban, so the simple sight still fascinated him.

“I hear you are quite the cook from my students,” He said with a quirked brow as he walked over to tinker with some of his materials. A glance at the alchemy table Azar had set up would be a reminder of the dangerous man he truly was despite how affectionate he may have been with Karys. The other man would spot the Zygerrian queen’s tiara amidst several other items lined near the table. There were vials that contained what looked like strands of hairs belonging to different individuals. Azar explained none of it, sorting different beakers and vials methodically.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

Karys laid in Azar’s bed, his lover wrapped in his arms. Their legs intertwined and just as tangled as the sheets they laid in. Karys gently ran his fingers through Azar’s hair, playing with the loose waves, tracing them with his fingertips. He was lost in the afterglow of passion.

It was only when Azar spoke his pet name, Loth-kitten, Karys was drawn back to the present. His crimson eyes pried themselves from the ceiling to focus on Azar’s golden pools. The ghost of a smile tugged at Karys’ lips as he drank in this moment. He knew what was to come from this decision, he knew the price his father would try to make him pay. He’s just have to be ready for when that inevitable day came.

Then Azar shifted and kissed Karys. The younger Pureblood tried to pull his lover in for something deeper than stolen affection. But Azar was too quick for him to catch, especially when he was this relaxed. <Or we could stay in bed just a moment longer.> He protested. But Karys felt his body shifting to follow Azar towards the bathroom before he even willed it. Karys found himself wanting to be near him, to simply exist in his presence.

The soft padding of Azar’s feet were the precursor to the louder steps of Karys. Once in the shower, Karys would clean himself, stopping occasionally to glance at Azar again. These times weren’t with a lustful gaze, but with a deep appreciation of the man.

While Azar would wear only sweatpants, Karys would wear only his shirt and boxers. He couldn’t find his shorts and eventually he gave up looking, the frenzy of desire had claimed them for now. Karys eventually entered the downstairs again, his gaze flickered to the open window. He watched the rain patter against the glass for a moment, it was soothing in a way.

Then his attention would turn to Azar as he questioned Karys about his cooking. A smirk formed on his lips at this, Karys chuckled as he nodded in reply. <Word gets around fast then.> He replied, a grin forming on his face. <It is another Passion I indulge in, yes.> He explained.

His gaze would flicker across the items at Azar’s alchemy desk. Karys would have lied if he said there wasn’t a momentary shiver of fear when his eyes fell on the tiara. He lingered on that memory and the callous power Azar had displayed. Part of him wondered if Azar would do the same to him, if the time came.

His face dropped as his mind took him back even further. He remembered one of his sister’s fate, the echoes of her screams, skin and flesh wetly parting beneath a dagger, and the steam rising from crimson snow. He pulled his mind from that day and shudder rippled down his spine. A realization formed -

He’d prefer the poison.

His eyes flitted from the crown and back to Azar. <Would you like me to cook for you?> He asked, his mind desperately looking for a distraction from old terrors.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar didn’t miss the way Karys tensed up when he observed him working on his alchemy tools. Azar said nothing on it - he had nothing to explain away nor apologize for. They both knew what Azar specialized in and how ruthless he was. Karys could choose to embrace all of that or not, Azar wouldn’t change. He only gave a faint smirk before he emptied a vial into a cauldron, a hiss erupting followed by a foul, chemical stench.

“That is the hint I dropped yes,” Azar said with a glint of amusement in his eye as Karys asked if he wanted him to cook, “Perhaps you prefer me to be direct,” He said with a smirk, recalling back to their moments earlier and the declaration that caused Karys to carry him upstairs. The Pureblood continued working on his little experiment, not explaining a single bit of it. However, it was clear he was entirely comfortable when he worked on these things and there was a casual ease with the way he approached the complexities of alchemy. As if he had been doing this his entire life.

“Oh, I confiscated this from one of the students,” Azar explained as he grabbed a handwritten note to give it to Karys, “I’m unclear on the meaning despite slowly translating the Basic.”

Teach got such a nice cake I wouldn’t mind a slice.

Azar continued with mixing his chemicals, brows furrowed, “I do not recall ever bringing desserts to class, nor do I ever intend to,” He grumbled. The note had him thoroughly puzzled.

@Apollyon

 

[Karys]

The acrid stench of mixing chemical solutions hit Karys hard. He felt his eyes tear up for a moment and had to blink away the reservoir before the dam broke. However, Karys smiled at Azar’s response to his question. The bluntness of his reply amused Karys, as did the sarcastic quip that followed.

<No need for direction, I’ll catch on.> He replied with a grin. <And I would love to cook for you.> Karys’ grin turned into an expression of genuine happiness. <Have you ever eaten Ziosti?> He asked, trying to gauge what he’d need to gather from Academy kitchen.

It wouldn’t be a perfect one to one of the recipes. However, he could make something that was passable with whatever was down there. He’d have to make something more authentic later on. As he thought on this and made to speak, Azar handed him a letter he had confiscated in class. Karys opened the letter without looking initially.

<And how spicy do you like your food babe?> The last word left his mouth without even registering in his mind.

Karys only realized what he had called Azar after he uttered it. Shit. It was too late to take it back now. Instead, Karys just bit the bullet and tried to play it natural.

He leaned back against the counter and his arms crossed his chest. There was the faintest of smiles that crept across his face. He was perfectly aware that he may have stepped off and into it now.

Karys then looked down at the letter. His eyes widened a bit at what he read. Whoever this was should be thankful that Azar didn’t get what they were saying, it could’ve ended with potion tasting. Karys folded the letter and placed it on the counter behind him.

<He was just complimenting you.> Karys replied, a half truth. <It’s slang for how impressed he was with you.> Another half truth.

Karys would clear his throat after that half-explanation. <Completely unrelated, but do you remember that student’s name?>

@Sreeya