[ Just as Eridanus draws the comparison within his own thoughts, Lucius too thinks of an Astartes cowed beneath the awesome presence of his primarch. There is a blasphemy in the thought, that he could place himself on a level equal to Fulgrim's even within the eyes of his besotted consortâbut that is precisely why it shudders through him with such an excruciating ecstasy, Eridanus' continued sulking barely a thought within his mind. His fingers tighten in their grip around his scalp, and for a moment, he nearly feels as though his fingertips do hold the power to kill a man as easily as he blinks once more. ]
Lord Commander Eidolon, [ he begins, the words an intoxicated sigh from his thin lips, ] led the Emperor's Children loyal to our primarch in purging those of us deemed Imperial loyalists. First, the Warmaster himself granted us the honor of bringing the Emperor's wrath to a civilization fallen beyond redemption â and knowing no better, we jumped for a taste of that glory. Then, in the moment we had purged Isstvan III's Choral City of life in His name...
[ Lucius trails off, and he laughs at the irony left behind in implication. ]
Well, when an orbital bombing failed to kill those of us marked for death, the primarch of the World Eaters decided he would take our skulls with his own two hands. [ His lips split wider with grim humor. ] You see, dear Archmage, our little loyalist resistance was doomed from the start. All we could hope to accomplish against the combined fury of our kinsmen and the three primarchs that stood along with them was the killing of time. We would die as martyrs, nobly sacrificing ourselves so news of Horus' betrayal had time to reach the Emperor's ears!
[ Again, he laughs, the whole story nothing more than a grand farce in the face of ten-thousand years of hindsight. Suddenly, the space between them feels far too small; there is no room for Lucius to move in the sweeping gestures such comedy deserves. He draws back, cool air flooding the space between their chests in the place of body heat, simply so that Lucius may move. ]
Oh, but we did waste their time. We barricaded ourselves within the very same Precentor's Palace we had taken just minutes before we were to be cast aside, and we held it. Imagine the frustration of the poor Warmaster, unable to stomp out this little knot of loyalists for no reason other than the space we huddled in! Why, imagine how a commander would be lauded, all the glory and accolades that would be heaped upon his shoulders, if only he found a way inside and stomped out our pathetic band of survivors before we could muster against him...
[ His voice drops low, conspiratorial and suggestive, and as his gleaming eyes regard Eridanus below him, he clearly expects him to have caught onto the turn this story is about to take. ]
[Beneath the command of sharp, enamel claws, Eridanus winces as he feels the prick and heat of blood at their tips. It runs across his skin, through the ashen blond of his hair, tickling sensation down his neck as he keeps his gaze upwards, adulating of his Eternal throughout his story. It isn't until Lucius moves away to give himself room, that Eridanus' form slots instead into the crook of the larger beast's elbow. He sighs, eyes falling lidded despite their captivation, as the man continues.
Places unfamiliar to him, names and faces and factionsâit's all too difficult visualize in his mind. He has felt it many times before, the frustration that comes with the disparity of their years, but never as strongly as this. For Lucius, it was eons past, and yet for Eridanus, it feels as if it is the vast, unreachable future.
But then he catches itâwhat Lucius alludes to, and suddenly despite a grip that would part the skin of his scalp, Eridanus sits up without a second thought. Side-sitting and abutting Lucius' overlarge, lounging form, he hovers his face over the tightly grinning mask of his consort.]
You conspired with Eidolon, then?
[He asks, breathless in his excitement. Though frustrated with his own lack of knowledge, he would be lying to say that Lucius was not a gifted storyteller. One moment confused, and the next besotted, Eridanus' gaze gleams in his excitement.]
As much trouble as he made it â I did. [ He sly smile brightens, amused again. ] As I said, I once served under him. I knew the man, and I knew just what he would want to hear.
[ With Eridanus sidled up against him, Lucius' own hand lifts, those dark claws that had grasped his skull in their hold a moment earlier instead teasing an affectionate, bloody path up the curve of his consort's spine. ]
The biggest obstacle that stood in my way was finding the opportunity to speak with him. But, then, I saw my chance to make one. [ He gives those words time to hang between them, thick with conspiracy once more. ]
Saul and I protected the western face of the Precentor's Palace â and I with the force of a mere 30 men to hold off an invasion of thousands. [ He can't help the addition; despite the stain of his once-loyalist affiliation, his tone swells with pride, sweet with the knowledge that he had faced his brothers with so many disadvantages and outmatched them anyway. ] The Palace was flanked by mountains, you see, leaving those western entrances by far the most vulnerable in the face of any assault. Each day, the courtyard beyond became a charnel house, littered with the uncounted corpses of our kin â half those remains so mangled it would be an unmatched generosity to refer to them as cadavers.
[ He pauses, and when he breaths in, he can nearly taste the stench of that death within his mouth again. His tongue flicks through his teeth, licking over his lips as he recalls itâbut the story must go on. ]
Every day, we fought off some new assault. And then, one day, it was Eidolon who brought his forces to bear on us. I didn't see him among the Astartes that warred that day, but that was for the better. [ The statement comes as something more a mundane statement of fact, but then his voice lifts again with grand excitement as he explains, ] Instead, I saw old Chaplain Charmosian commanding the field! He stood proud atop one of the land raiders that had ferried his men in, his great blade bobbing and weaving like the baton of a maestro conducting a grand concerto!
[ His smile grows wider, and so do his eyes, as if manic with the memory of that battle. ]
At once, I knew what I had to do. I had to claim Charmosian's life â and when I did, I would take his helmet from his corpse as a simple trophy. With any luck at all, its vox would still be open to the private channel where he answered to Eidolon's command.
[Beneath those enamel claws that part his skin, Eridanus shivers. The imagery of bloody war, with mangled bodies pulped beneath munitions and cleaved in two by blades is eerily familiar; and despite their wars having been realms and millennia apart, Eridanus almost feels as if he's at home on the field once more. It has been less than a year since he's seen a battlefront, and yet, a part of him craves it with his consort's weaved tale.
Gazing out upon the ramparts, the scent of gunpowder and magic in the air, the screams of projectiles and bloodied menâall of it shivers through him with sick nostalgia.
Eridanus cranes himself over the grinning mask of his consort, efforts made to give Lucius the room to gesticulate easily overcome by his own desire to peer into the murky pools of bloodshot eyesâgold rimming the abyss of pupils blown wide. His own expression is intoxicated, a flush finding its way to his pallid expression as he hangs on those words as if the man's tale were some grand foreplay.]
You placed the helm upon your skull to lure him in.
[The words are breathless as they leave him, and like a concubine attending to her master, Eridanus lays himself across the expanse of Lucius' scar-pebbled chest. His own clawed fingers toy at the tight, waxen planes of his Eternal's visageâand when he draws his next breath, it's with the pink of his tongue gliding over his lip in anticipation.]
The man was eager for glory and you served it to him on a platter with your own betrayal.
sorry that Lucius will not shut up about himself and how great he is
I did indeed â but you're getting ahead of the story, my sweet Archmage.
[ And Lucius does mean sweet. Beneath the fawning attention, even the set of his shoulders seems to swell with pride. He tips his head into those hands so greedily worshiping the planes of his face, and despite the way Eridanus lies astride him now, when Lucius inclines his chin upward, it's as though he gazes down from the impossible height of the Corpse-Emperor himself. ]
I haven't even spoken to you of my glorious triumph over Chaplain Charmosian. [ But, of course, Lucius forgives him for his enthusiasm. It's a duel ten-thousand years old; the galaxy itself has long moved on from that old battle. It rests murky even in Lucius' own mind, words forgotten and details obscured as if they lay behind a field of black smog.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't recall it. He remembers the way it had felt, and he remembers its final sword-stroke, when a precise movement of his arm had sent Charmosian's skull twirling through the air and into his hand. ]
He was one of the Legion's finest â but he was no match for me, at half his age. [ Lucius laughs, and for a moment, it has all the boyish delight he had felt as a mere child of 150 years old. ] My men held the chapel behind me, and I led from the front, just as all great heroes of the Emperor's Children did before me. I crossed fields of interlacing bolter-fire and the blades of my lesser brothers, culling the weak from my father's Legion with my every step.
[ That is certainly how he reconciles his self-proclaimed heroism with all the traitors he himself killed! Anyway, ]
And then I came to Chaplain Charmosian, proud atop the tank that had brought him to our battlefield. We hardly exchanged wordsâ [ though he's sure whatever it is he said, it was very cool ] âas I took that stage alongside him, and then our blades were upon each other.
Charmosian favored the greatsword, a huge and heavy thing that would have knocked me to my back of I had tried to bear the weight of its swings. [ There is an itching in his limbs as he recalls the duel itself; Eridanus can surely feel it, in the way it renders fingers restless against his waist. ] Effective enough in cutting down the rank and file, but not a master in the art of the duel. [ Smug pride curls his lipless mouth. ] A single strike from Charmosian likely would have been enough to cleave my torso clean in two, and he and I both knew it â so I took care not to be there when his blade cleaved through the air, deflecting its weight or sidestepping its mighty swing.
I could taste his irritation, [ he licks his lips ] so I made no move to riposte. Instead, I allowed Charmosian to do the work for me. I waited for that inevitable moment when frustration would cause him to overreach, and when it came, I took both his arms from the elbow down.
[ And that he does remember well. Is there anything more pathetic than the sight of a swordsman rendered impotent with the loss of his hands? Just the memory of it is enough to make him laugh under his breath, and he tuts his tongue as if in scolding disappointment at that long-dead brother. ]
I gave him no chance for a valedictory, and no chance for dignity. In another stroke of my arm, his head spun from his shoulders â and right into my grip. I held it aloft for all my brothers to see, my friends and my foes, and that was the moment in which each and every one of them knew the battle was decided.
[ He lets the painted image linger for the space of a heartbeat, and then the space of another, and then Lucius ducks his face still closer to Eridanus' hovered in front of his own. ]
With Eidolon's men set into retreat, it would seem only fair that I could keep that one small memento of the victory I had assured us, wouldn't you say?
it's nothing you ever have to apologize for honestly I did this to myself, anyways, cw: horny
[For as venerating as Eridanus' gaze is, as if he truly were some supplicant, prostrating within a gilded temple before the figure of his godâhe still splays himself across Lucius' broad front the same as if it were a throne especially made for him. Affectionate in his touches of the man's waxen skull, his daggered fingers trace the eons-old latticed scars. Lucius spins a grand tale of his triumph over his legion-brother and thoughts fill his mind of just which of these phantom scars was the one he carved into his handsome visage that day. Was it buried beneath new victories? Or would he be able to pick out a corner, an edge of it, just to press an adoring kiss to its length?
He shifts, again, against the over-large torso that brings his Eternal's form one step closer to the glory of his true flesh. Though it is not to lounge over him with the lazy sprawl of a concubine. With the climax of the story growing nearer, he can feel the way excitement buzzes through his veins. Just as restless as the energy that drums talons along his waist, Eridanus swings his leg over Lucius' hips and pulls himself to sitting upon them. His gaze clouds with lust, as his claws drag red lines down the muscular curve of his consort's chest.]
Of course, my Eternal... did you keep your prize?
[He asks, anticipation reaching his breathless voice as he wonders if that skull rests amongst the prizes that litter Lucius' room upon the Diadem. There had been too many trophies to pick through before, and they had all blended together; but now he wonders just what sort of stories led to each one. He wonders just what it would feel like to see Lucius dance through the battlefield spreading bloody carnage in his elegant performance.]
I did â sans the head inside it, anyway. Saul wouldn't have stood for it. [ He chuckles with the thought. Of course, what Saul would accept hadn't mattered in the long run, but it had made it easier for Lucius to convince him he had earned this one small pleasure. ] What I did next was as simple as waiting until I was alone within the chapel once more. I pried the communicator from within Charmosian's helm â and lo and behold, in the moment he had died, its vox channel had sat open to Eidolon himself!
[ Lucius allows himself a moment to look very pleased with his own clevernessâand to appreciate the weight of Eridanus atop his hips. ]
Of course, the good Lord Commander thought I merely wished to taunt him. [ Again, he laughs, the sound low in the air around them. ] I suppose I can't blame him. Perhaps that's all he would think to do, had our positions been reversed!
It took a bit of convincing, but even he had to understand he would benefit either way. Either I handed him the glory he so dearly craved, or he would have the most perfect opportunity to take my head he would ever see. He agreed we would meet once night fell. [ For a second, Lucius' humor seems to ebb away; the scarred mask of his face pinches. ] Under darkness, I crawled through filth and rotting carrion as though I were nothing more than a lowly rat â and after being asked to suffer such indignity to meet with him, do you know how it is that he greeted me?
[ Of course, Eridanus doesn't. Lucius still allows him a moment to contemplate the question, however, before he declares, ] He called me a traitor twice over.
[ He doesn't recall the words he and Charmosian had exchanged any longer, but that particular insult remains clear within in his mind. It had irritated him at the timeâbut, he suspects, the true reason he can hear it just as it was spoken some eleven millennia later is the humor he had come to regard it in as he gained favor above his once-superior. ]
Rich, isn't it? He was engaged in the greatest treachery imaginable within the Imperium, but between us, I was the scoundrel for my poor choice in friends. [ He huffs with laughter. ] He would have left me on the soil of Isstvan III to die an ignoble death in my infancy, and all it took for me to change his mind was the means to a victory that would see him standing the highest of all our kin. Too bad for him that the fool couldn't grasp such glory even after I placed it in his hands myself!
[ The punchline, such as it were, is enough to have Lucius cackling with sudden humor, his shoulders spasming beneath the weight of Eridanus sprawled along his chest. ]
But now I'm getting ahead of myself! I told him I would give his men an uncontested entrance to the Precentor's Palace. Eidolon could lead the charge himself as its defenses were at last breached, and with no warning of his arrival, our brothers would be utterly unprepared to meet his assault.
[As Lucius continues his tale once more, Eridanus finds himself settling lower. Like some sprawling domesticated pet, he crosses his arms over the expanse of his Eternal's chest and settles his chin atop them with eyes bewitched by legend. He can only imagine behind the thin veil of closed eyelids, what it may have been like to hold that helm within his two hands, and triumph resting on his shoulders. A triumph short lived, but motivating nonetheless.
But to slide that helm over his head, to imagine the words exchanged. He wonders what this Eidolon's voice sounded like, even when it deemed his beloved an ill-fit traitor. The anger that sours Lucius' expression is savored by Eridanus like bitter drink, it burns his throat and settles hotly in his stomach. Anger is not an emotion he sees of his Eternal very often, and when the danger of it isn't directed towards him, even he finds indulgence in gazing upon it.
Still, he's attentive as the story unfolds. As Lucius breaches their meeting ground and makes his deal with his true traitor-brother. Eridanus rises, then, and with his gauntlets splayed across the scarified muscle of Lucius' chest, he eagerly hangs on for the answer to his next question.]
So then, how did he blunder such an opportunity?
[The words are hitched in his throat, breathless with excitement. His tail whips through the air behind him, wagging in his enjoyment. He manages, just barely, to calm himself into lowering against his consort's front once moreâthough poised nearly nose to nose with him.]
Why, I often wonder the same thing, [ Lucius returns, the words nearly sung in jest. Truly, how could Eidolon have been so foolish! But he knows the mechanics of it, and the mechanics were all he promised to tell; again, dark enamel plays the length of Eridanus' spine as Lucius draws air through his sharpened teeth. ]
The plan that was agreed upon was this: Horus would marshal his Sons and drive an attack against another of the Palace's cardinal walls. The furor of it would draw the attention of its defenders away from the west. While they were so absorbed in warding off that assault, Eidolon and his men would make an entrance through the breech I guarded â once I made sure it had only me to protect it. Three dozen or so heads for me to take, alone...
[ Even as close as Eridanus has pulled their eyes, his tongue lolls between his teeth again, hungry with the thought of that struggle. Never once had he doubted in his ability to end the lives against that mob alone; still, it had been quite the experience, defending himself from so many blades wielded against him on all sides. More than any human enemy, it had felt like being locked in battle against the Megarachnid on Murder once more, in that struggle that had nearly ended his life centuries before he could become the blight the galaxy knew him as today.
A pity, that none of those men had been as swift or as unfaltering as their xenos foes. ]
Simple enough for a swordsman as skilled as I, wouldn't you say? [ Like the punchline to a joke, he exhales those words in a breath of laughter. ] The first handful were dead before the rest of our brothers could understand that I had killed them. The rest threw themselves to me, but no matter how many of them came at once â compared Lucius the swordsman, their clumsy bladework was little more than the imaginary play of a Chemosian child fantasizing of growing up into a grand duelist.
[ There had been someone else there, too, butâwell, that subplot hardly mattered anymore, and Eridanus couldn't give the payoff nearly the appreciation it deserved without hearing a whole other story first. ]
By the time Eidolon and his men arrived, my face was a mask of blood, and not a single drop of it dripped from a gash made by any other sword but my own. Just as we agreed, I allowed him entry to the palace, where he would flank our struggling kin...
[ Lucius trails off as though his story were about to crescendo to some new and glorious turn of eventsâbut then he shrugs, the brightness of his expression suddenly diminishing with his disinterest. ]
I didn't accompany him, so I cannot tell you precisely what occurred from there. Still, I know enough to say my dear friend Saul Tarvitz had doubled back, evidently in the hopes of finding me. Too much of a dullard to realize I had decided to move onto more fruitful lands, I suppose he was worried for my life.
[ He doesn't mention the way he had Saul had fought long enough for the pair of them to be found, and though he speaks of the concern of what may be the last man he had ever called a friend, his voice is flat. ]
In any case, Eidolon, that fool â he was so preoccupied with thoughts of glory and claiming the most heads that he threw out good sense. [ Lucius rolls his eyes. ] As the good Lord Commander flanked our loyalist kin, Tarvitz gathered what men had been left scattered and unmoored by the disorder. Eidolon allowed his flanking force to be flanked, and by perhaps a mere two dozen marines!
[ He scoffs, and it's hard to say which irritates him more: Eidolon's failure, or Saul's success. ]
The damage had been more than done by then, but can you imagine the humiliation of being driven out by the same men you had set fleeing like vermin from a flaming field? That he couldn't finish the task, that he suffered so many unnecessary losses in what should have been a foolproof operation â well, you can imagine it was quite the stain on the story of his great victory.
[Keen to the changes in Lucius' expressionâsubtle or unsubtle as they areâEridanus' excitement for the tale at hand dims and like a lounging cat basking in the sun, he lowers himself to quiet repose upon the expanse of that monstrous, scarred chest. He watches the way his consort's lipless maw twists around the words, how laughter reverberates beneath him, and how disgust pulls a grimace across Lucius' waxen mask. His gaze searches every crease and ridge of the face before him, and with the ridge of his own opaline maw settling atop the backs of his hands, Eridanus resigns himself to what he assumes to be the great climax of the story.
Except, for as much as he was expecting an utter blunder, he isn't expecting it to be so incredibly stupid. So much so that for the few moments of relaxation he had found himself in, he is once again pulling himself up to sitting upon Lucius' overlarge chest.]
And this man is a military officer? [He finds that incredibly hard to believe, and that incredulity is heard quite literally in the tone he takes when he asks the question. More so, his brow furrows along with the twist of his lips into a poutâas if the story has ended in nothing but disappointment.
But... no, it couldn't. After all, this is a story that his Eternal stars in! So of course, there is room for triumph and glory awaiting. Perhaps the climax is not yet here.]
What did you do? Surely you rescued this plan, since the Lord Commander failed so miserably?
I asked the same thing myself, once we were back aboard the Andronius! [ That response seems to restore a measure of Lucius' good moodâor perhaps they simple are turning toward a punchline Lucius enjoys. Either way, a grin splits across his face again, sharp and feral.
Still, the next words from his mouth aren't quite so exciting, so he settles back against the pillows beneath his body with a click of his tongue. The tips of his claws tap against stony skin, and his overlong tongue licks across his teeth. ]
It's as I said, Eridanus: Eidolon's damage was already done. He merely completed his task... falteringly, rather than making it the decisive triumph it ought to have been. The loyalist resistance still lay broken by the end of it, and that was enough for the Warmaster to call his forces back to their ships â where we all watched as whatever stragglers still stubbornly clung to life were rewarded for their valor by his fleet's world-ending munitions.
[ If Lucius were to speak of regrets, that he couldn't see the light leave Saul's eyes for himself is the only one. But that isn't the topic at hand, and instead, Lucius' lips light with a smile. This is it: the true point of this little anecdote. ]
And when Fulgrim's loyal sons came to stand in front of their primarch once more â well, you already know which one was praised for his cleverness and credited for cutting that conflict short, don't you?
[ Eridanus doesn't really need to answer, because of course the answer is him. He chuckles, the sound low and rich, as he recalls not Fulgrim's praise, but the envy of his brothers who had coveted it in his stead. ]
The next time I saw Lord Commander Eidolon, [ Lucius goes on, without pause, ] he had been tasked with escorting me to Bile's apothecarion. Imagine how he seethed, Eridanus! He had been upstaged by a twice-damned traitor â a pernicious stain on the III Legion's honor he would have left to die with the rest, had the decision been his to make. Of course, [ and his tone suddenly shift sly, ] he hadn't seemed so put out by our bargain when he thought the accolades would be his instead.
[ Lucius' arms pull around Eridanus' waist, drawing him upward. His head leans forward, eyes glittering. ]
That was the moment we both knew, soon, I would rise above him in the eyes of our gene-father.
[The climax isn't one he expects. There is no riotous claim to victory had by Lucius' own hand, nor utter decimation wrought by anything more than the finality of a battle won. In some ways, it's poeticâwar is not always like the ballads say, with grand heroes and epic monologues. Sometimes it is nothing more than beasts heeling to greater beasts, made to submit with the end of life itself. So, in a sense, this ending is also more satisfying than he had imagined.
As Eridanus is pulled up, closer to that grinning waxen mask boasting its confidence and pride, his own visage cracks with a fond smile. In the end, what he knew to be true was just thatâLucius rose above all the rest, and proved himself to be the king among fools. Now, if only he could see himself as greater than that pestiferous gene-father he goes on about, then he and Eridanus would truly be in agreement.]
Once more your glory is known. How the eyes of your brothers opened to that truth that day is a most glorious tale, my beloved. [He traces the scarified ridges of Lucius' visage with reverent glee, his claws nicking the deadened skin with the haste and carelessness of his excitement. Behind him, his tufted tail whips through the air, and within the thin space between their faces, his eyes gleam ecstatic.] What great honor was awarded to you? Surely you received some prize for your triumph?
Surely you know the favor of a king is its own prize. [ At least, that is what Lucius remembers. His claws continue to smooth up and down Eridanus' spine, and his head leans back, as though his consort's over-eager claws were the touch of a seasoned masseur instead. ] Fulgrim's eyes were upon me, and that meant the rest of the Legion followed. My lesser brothers vied for my company, and officers more senior than I opened their ranks to me, offering me privileges and luxuries beyond my grasp as a novice captain.
Of course, [ the words are a half-sigh, and with the same idleness, Lucius catches the base of Eridanus' wagging tail within the crook of his thumb and tugs, ] I snubbed them. You know me well enough, Eridanus, to understand that command is nothing more than a means to an end for me. Besides... A larger bed might be more comfortable, but the First Captain's seething face was priceless!
[Once more Eridanus' smile sours just a fraction at the mention of that insipid father of his. Perhaps, for the barest of moments, his distaste shows in the way his claws silently bear down just a bit harderâuntil welts become the pinpricks of daggers' tips that bead fresh blood within waxen divots. Sharp or simply cruel, when Lucius takes hold of his tail, it's as though he knew of the resentment in his heart, and Eridanus yelps his surprise.
Though the sweet taste of pain doesn't simmer his irritation, it does remind him of his place and so, he resigns himself to leaning down and nuzzling his face into the muscular curve of Lucius' neck. He will continue to bite his tongue for centuries and millennia to come, but that will never douse the flames of his dislike for a man who holds a tighter grip on his Eternal's affections than he does.]
That anyone ever thought less of you is a offense worthy of death, my beloved, [Eridanus mutters bitterly against waxen skin, his claws instead tracing the scars along his consort's chest once more,] I am most pleased to hear that you made those lesser men aware of your greatness.
Oh? I'll be sure to inform Eidolon of that, the next time he calls together the Phoenix Conclave.
[ His idleâpeacefulâsmile widens with his humor, and while his pet's fanaticism is sweet, there is a sense in which even Lucius doesn't see it as merited. After all, as with any other victory, his rise to prominence and power among the III Legion's ranks would have tasted far less sweet unearned.
Beneath Eridanus, the great shape of his body shifts. Lucius turns over in their bed once more, carrying Eridanus' weight with him, and as he settles again, it's his turn to pick affectionately over the newly-returned opal that decorates his consort's face below him. ]
Or perhaps I'll grant you the privilege of doing so yourself, given that you will surely be there at my side.
[Even if it weren't what he wanted, Eridanus is easily rolled to his back as their positions are reversed. It's always moments such as these where he wonders if Lucius isn't much more perceptive than he lets on. Of course, his consort is a man who encompasses many talents, so he wouldn't put it past him; but still, the way he easily melts the frigid heart within his chest is yet another reason for which Eridanus finds himself increasingly enamored with the beast above him.
He leans his face into those adoring touches, his jewels admired just as well as the scars of the visage before him had been. Eridanus allows his eyes to flutter closed, and were he capable of rumbling his pleasure, he certainly would.]
I would be more than happy to propagate your greatness, [he states, matter-of-factly, with his lips twisting into an uncharacteristically boyish moue,] and if he says anything otherwise, I will be even happier to end his sorry existence in a pillar of hellfire.
[ Lucius' voice buoys through the still air of their bedroom, and he laughs, bright like the too-harsh light of a lethal sun. He sees the boyish pout set into his consort's lips even as his head lolls in contentment, and unseen to Eridanus' closed eyes, Lucius' grin pulls into an expression of mischief. ]
Eridanus, [ he purrs, his lips ducked close enough for his breath to tickle along the sensitive length of one overlong ear, ] your age is showing.
[ His split tongue dances from his lips. Blessed with its preternatural dexterity, one fork curls around the angular cusp of that ear before his lips; the other seeks with probing interest, teasing at the opening of its canal. ]
[Whatever protest Eridanus might give to those teasing words, dies in his throat in favor of the wanting noise that wells up from his chest. His breath catches in his lungs, overlong ear flicking away from the teasing touch of breath and a prehensile tongue that seeks the sensitive inner shell of it. He feels his blood rush through his limbs, coloring his face, his neck, and pooling hotly in his belly. Pinned as he is, his wagging tail cannot even display his eager excitement.]
Lucius... [He whimpers, with claws digging into the scarified flesh beneath them, as if he could anchor himself into Lucius' body and keep a hold on his crumbling composure.
He can't, though it isn't so much a bad thing between them. Eridanus draws in a shaking breath, and then he turns his head, pressing his mouth against his lover's. His own tongue unfurls past the thicket of fangs guarding it, greeting Lucius' own just as eagerly as the wanton moans elicited from him would expect. One day, he thinks, they'll kiss before the starsâand that thought alone, is one he cannot wait for.]
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Lord Commander Eidolon, [ he begins, the words an intoxicated sigh from his thin lips, ] led the Emperor's Children loyal to our primarch in purging those of us deemed Imperial loyalists. First, the Warmaster himself granted us the honor of bringing the Emperor's wrath to a civilization fallen beyond redemption â and knowing no better, we jumped for a taste of that glory. Then, in the moment we had purged Isstvan III's Choral City of life in His name...
[ Lucius trails off, and he laughs at the irony left behind in implication. ]
Well, when an orbital bombing failed to kill those of us marked for death, the primarch of the World Eaters decided he would take our skulls with his own two hands. [ His lips split wider with grim humor. ] You see, dear Archmage, our little loyalist resistance was doomed from the start. All we could hope to accomplish against the combined fury of our kinsmen and the three primarchs that stood along with them was the killing of time. We would die as martyrs, nobly sacrificing ourselves so news of Horus' betrayal had time to reach the Emperor's ears!
[ Again, he laughs, the whole story nothing more than a grand farce in the face of ten-thousand years of hindsight. Suddenly, the space between them feels far too small; there is no room for Lucius to move in the sweeping gestures such comedy deserves. He draws back, cool air flooding the space between their chests in the place of body heat, simply so that Lucius may move. ]
Oh, but we did waste their time. We barricaded ourselves within the very same Precentor's Palace we had taken just minutes before we were to be cast aside, and we held it. Imagine the frustration of the poor Warmaster, unable to stomp out this little knot of loyalists for no reason other than the space we huddled in! Why, imagine how a commander would be lauded, all the glory and accolades that would be heaped upon his shoulders, if only he found a way inside and stomped out our pathetic band of survivors before we could muster against him...
[ His voice drops low, conspiratorial and suggestive, and as his gleaming eyes regard Eridanus below him, he clearly expects him to have caught onto the turn this story is about to take. ]
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Places unfamiliar to him, names and faces and factionsâit's all too difficult visualize in his mind. He has felt it many times before, the frustration that comes with the disparity of their years, but never as strongly as this. For Lucius, it was eons past, and yet for Eridanus, it feels as if it is the vast, unreachable future.
But then he catches itâwhat Lucius alludes to, and suddenly despite a grip that would part the skin of his scalp, Eridanus sits up without a second thought. Side-sitting and abutting Lucius' overlarge, lounging form, he hovers his face over the tightly grinning mask of his consort.]
You conspired with Eidolon, then?
[He asks, breathless in his excitement. Though frustrated with his own lack of knowledge, he would be lying to say that Lucius was not a gifted storyteller. One moment confused, and the next besotted, Eridanus' gaze gleams in his excitement.]
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[ With Eridanus sidled up against him, Lucius' own hand lifts, those dark claws that had grasped his skull in their hold a moment earlier instead teasing an affectionate, bloody path up the curve of his consort's spine. ]
The biggest obstacle that stood in my way was finding the opportunity to speak with him. But, then, I saw my chance to make one. [ He gives those words time to hang between them, thick with conspiracy once more. ]
Saul and I protected the western face of the Precentor's Palace â and I with the force of a mere 30 men to hold off an invasion of thousands. [ He can't help the addition; despite the stain of his once-loyalist affiliation, his tone swells with pride, sweet with the knowledge that he had faced his brothers with so many disadvantages and outmatched them anyway. ] The Palace was flanked by mountains, you see, leaving those western entrances by far the most vulnerable in the face of any assault. Each day, the courtyard beyond became a charnel house, littered with the uncounted corpses of our kin â half those remains so mangled it would be an unmatched generosity to refer to them as cadavers.
[ He pauses, and when he breaths in, he can nearly taste the stench of that death within his mouth again. His tongue flicks through his teeth, licking over his lips as he recalls itâbut the story must go on. ]
Every day, we fought off some new assault. And then, one day, it was Eidolon who brought his forces to bear on us. I didn't see him among the Astartes that warred that day, but that was for the better. [ The statement comes as something more a mundane statement of fact, but then his voice lifts again with grand excitement as he explains, ] Instead, I saw old Chaplain Charmosian commanding the field! He stood proud atop one of the land raiders that had ferried his men in, his great blade bobbing and weaving like the baton of a maestro conducting a grand concerto!
[ His smile grows wider, and so do his eyes, as if manic with the memory of that battle. ]
At once, I knew what I had to do. I had to claim Charmosian's life â and when I did, I would take his helmet from his corpse as a simple trophy. With any luck at all, its vox would still be open to the private channel where he answered to Eidolon's command.
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Gazing out upon the ramparts, the scent of gunpowder and magic in the air, the screams of projectiles and bloodied menâall of it shivers through him with sick nostalgia.
Eridanus cranes himself over the grinning mask of his consort, efforts made to give Lucius the room to gesticulate easily overcome by his own desire to peer into the murky pools of bloodshot eyesâgold rimming the abyss of pupils blown wide. His own expression is intoxicated, a flush finding its way to his pallid expression as he hangs on those words as if the man's tale were some grand foreplay.]
You placed the helm upon your skull to lure him in.
[The words are breathless as they leave him, and like a concubine attending to her master, Eridanus lays himself across the expanse of Lucius' scar-pebbled chest. His own clawed fingers toy at the tight, waxen planes of his Eternal's visageâand when he draws his next breath, it's with the pink of his tongue gliding over his lip in anticipation.]
The man was eager for glory and you served it to him on a platter with your own betrayal.
sorry that Lucius will not shut up about himself and how great he is
[ And Lucius does mean sweet. Beneath the fawning attention, even the set of his shoulders seems to swell with pride. He tips his head into those hands so greedily worshiping the planes of his face, and despite the way Eridanus lies astride him now, when Lucius inclines his chin upward, it's as though he gazes down from the impossible height of the Corpse-Emperor himself. ]
I haven't even spoken to you of my glorious triumph over Chaplain Charmosian. [ But, of course, Lucius forgives him for his enthusiasm. It's a duel ten-thousand years old; the galaxy itself has long moved on from that old battle. It rests murky even in Lucius' own mind, words forgotten and details obscured as if they lay behind a field of black smog.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't recall it. He remembers the way it had felt, and he remembers its final sword-stroke, when a precise movement of his arm had sent Charmosian's skull twirling through the air and into his hand. ]
He was one of the Legion's finest â but he was no match for me, at half his age. [ Lucius laughs, and for a moment, it has all the boyish delight he had felt as a mere child of 150 years old. ] My men held the chapel behind me, and I led from the front, just as all great heroes of the Emperor's Children did before me. I crossed fields of interlacing bolter-fire and the blades of my lesser brothers, culling the weak from my father's Legion with my every step.
[ That is certainly how he reconciles his self-proclaimed heroism with all the traitors he himself killed! Anyway, ]
And then I came to Chaplain Charmosian, proud atop the tank that had brought him to our battlefield. We hardly exchanged wordsâ [ though he's sure whatever it is he said, it was very cool ] âas I took that stage alongside him, and then our blades were upon each other.
Charmosian favored the greatsword, a huge and heavy thing that would have knocked me to my back of I had tried to bear the weight of its swings. [ There is an itching in his limbs as he recalls the duel itself; Eridanus can surely feel it, in the way it renders fingers restless against his waist. ] Effective enough in cutting down the rank and file, but not a master in the art of the duel. [ Smug pride curls his lipless mouth. ] A single strike from Charmosian likely would have been enough to cleave my torso clean in two, and he and I both knew it â so I took care not to be there when his blade cleaved through the air, deflecting its weight or sidestepping its mighty swing.
I could taste his irritation, [ he licks his lips ] so I made no move to riposte. Instead, I allowed Charmosian to do the work for me. I waited for that inevitable moment when frustration would cause him to overreach, and when it came, I took both his arms from the elbow down.
[ And that he does remember well. Is there anything more pathetic than the sight of a swordsman rendered impotent with the loss of his hands? Just the memory of it is enough to make him laugh under his breath, and he tuts his tongue as if in scolding disappointment at that long-dead brother. ]
I gave him no chance for a valedictory, and no chance for dignity. In another stroke of my arm, his head spun from his shoulders â and right into my grip. I held it aloft for all my brothers to see, my friends and my foes, and that was the moment in which each and every one of them knew the battle was decided.
[ He lets the painted image linger for the space of a heartbeat, and then the space of another, and then Lucius ducks his face still closer to Eridanus' hovered in front of his own. ]
With Eidolon's men set into retreat, it would seem only fair that I could keep that one small memento of the victory I had assured us, wouldn't you say?
it's nothing you ever have to apologize for honestly I did this to myself, anyways, cw: horny
He shifts, again, against the over-large torso that brings his Eternal's form one step closer to the glory of his true flesh. Though it is not to lounge over him with the lazy sprawl of a concubine. With the climax of the story growing nearer, he can feel the way excitement buzzes through his veins. Just as restless as the energy that drums talons along his waist, Eridanus swings his leg over Lucius' hips and pulls himself to sitting upon them. His gaze clouds with lust, as his claws drag red lines down the muscular curve of his consort's chest.]
Of course, my Eternal... did you keep your prize?
[He asks, anticipation reaching his breathless voice as he wonders if that skull rests amongst the prizes that litter Lucius' room upon the Diadem. There had been too many trophies to pick through before, and they had all blended together; but now he wonders just what sort of stories led to each one. He wonders just what it would feel like to see Lucius dance through the battlefield spreading bloody carnage in his elegant performance.]
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[ Lucius allows himself a moment to look very pleased with his own clevernessâand to appreciate the weight of Eridanus atop his hips. ]
Of course, the good Lord Commander thought I merely wished to taunt him. [ Again, he laughs, the sound low in the air around them. ] I suppose I can't blame him. Perhaps that's all he would think to do, had our positions been reversed!
It took a bit of convincing, but even he had to understand he would benefit either way. Either I handed him the glory he so dearly craved, or he would have the most perfect opportunity to take my head he would ever see. He agreed we would meet once night fell. [ For a second, Lucius' humor seems to ebb away; the scarred mask of his face pinches. ] Under darkness, I crawled through filth and rotting carrion as though I were nothing more than a lowly rat â and after being asked to suffer such indignity to meet with him, do you know how it is that he greeted me?
[ Of course, Eridanus doesn't. Lucius still allows him a moment to contemplate the question, however, before he declares, ] He called me a traitor twice over.
[ He doesn't recall the words he and Charmosian had exchanged any longer, but that particular insult remains clear within in his mind. It had irritated him at the timeâbut, he suspects, the true reason he can hear it just as it was spoken some eleven millennia later is the humor he had come to regard it in as he gained favor above his once-superior. ]
Rich, isn't it? He was engaged in the greatest treachery imaginable within the Imperium, but between us, I was the scoundrel for my poor choice in friends. [ He huffs with laughter. ] He would have left me on the soil of Isstvan III to die an ignoble death in my infancy, and all it took for me to change his mind was the means to a victory that would see him standing the highest of all our kin. Too bad for him that the fool couldn't grasp such glory even after I placed it in his hands myself!
[ The punchline, such as it were, is enough to have Lucius cackling with sudden humor, his shoulders spasming beneath the weight of Eridanus sprawled along his chest. ]
But now I'm getting ahead of myself! I told him I would give his men an uncontested entrance to the Precentor's Palace. Eidolon could lead the charge himself as its defenses were at last breached, and with no warning of his arrival, our brothers would be utterly unprepared to meet his assault.
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But to slide that helm over his head, to imagine the words exchanged. He wonders what this Eidolon's voice sounded like, even when it deemed his beloved an ill-fit traitor. The anger that sours Lucius' expression is savored by Eridanus like bitter drink, it burns his throat and settles hotly in his stomach. Anger is not an emotion he sees of his Eternal very often, and when the danger of it isn't directed towards him, even he finds indulgence in gazing upon it.
Still, he's attentive as the story unfolds. As Lucius breaches their meeting ground and makes his deal with his true traitor-brother. Eridanus rises, then, and with his gauntlets splayed across the scarified muscle of Lucius' chest, he eagerly hangs on for the answer to his next question.]
So then, how did he blunder such an opportunity?
[The words are hitched in his throat, breathless with excitement. His tail whips through the air behind him, wagging in his enjoyment. He manages, just barely, to calm himself into lowering against his consort's front once moreâthough poised nearly nose to nose with him.]
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The plan that was agreed upon was this: Horus would marshal his Sons and drive an attack against another of the Palace's cardinal walls. The furor of it would draw the attention of its defenders away from the west. While they were so absorbed in warding off that assault, Eidolon and his men would make an entrance through the breech I guarded â once I made sure it had only me to protect it. Three dozen or so heads for me to take, alone...
[ Even as close as Eridanus has pulled their eyes, his tongue lolls between his teeth again, hungry with the thought of that struggle. Never once had he doubted in his ability to end the lives against that mob alone; still, it had been quite the experience, defending himself from so many blades wielded against him on all sides. More than any human enemy, it had felt like being locked in battle against the Megarachnid on Murder once more, in that struggle that had nearly ended his life centuries before he could become the blight the galaxy knew him as today.
A pity, that none of those men had been as swift or as unfaltering as their xenos foes. ]
Simple enough for a swordsman as skilled as I, wouldn't you say? [ Like the punchline to a joke, he exhales those words in a breath of laughter. ] The first handful were dead before the rest of our brothers could understand that I had killed them. The rest threw themselves to me, but no matter how many of them came at once â compared Lucius the swordsman, their clumsy bladework was little more than the imaginary play of a Chemosian child fantasizing of growing up into a grand duelist.
[ There had been someone else there, too, butâwell, that subplot hardly mattered anymore, and Eridanus couldn't give the payoff nearly the appreciation it deserved without hearing a whole other story first. ]
By the time Eidolon and his men arrived, my face was a mask of blood, and not a single drop of it dripped from a gash made by any other sword but my own. Just as we agreed, I allowed him entry to the palace, where he would flank our struggling kin...
[ Lucius trails off as though his story were about to crescendo to some new and glorious turn of eventsâbut then he shrugs, the brightness of his expression suddenly diminishing with his disinterest. ]
I didn't accompany him, so I cannot tell you precisely what occurred from there. Still, I know enough to say my dear friend Saul Tarvitz had doubled back, evidently in the hopes of finding me. Too much of a dullard to realize I had decided to move onto more fruitful lands, I suppose he was worried for my life.
[ He doesn't mention the way he had Saul had fought long enough for the pair of them to be found, and though he speaks of the concern of what may be the last man he had ever called a friend, his voice is flat. ]
In any case, Eidolon, that fool â he was so preoccupied with thoughts of glory and claiming the most heads that he threw out good sense. [ Lucius rolls his eyes. ] As the good Lord Commander flanked our loyalist kin, Tarvitz gathered what men had been left scattered and unmoored by the disorder. Eidolon allowed his flanking force to be flanked, and by perhaps a mere two dozen marines!
[ He scoffs, and it's hard to say which irritates him more: Eidolon's failure, or Saul's success. ]
The damage had been more than done by then, but can you imagine the humiliation of being driven out by the same men you had set fleeing like vermin from a flaming field? That he couldn't finish the task, that he suffered so many unnecessary losses in what should have been a foolproof operation â well, you can imagine it was quite the stain on the story of his great victory.
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Except, for as much as he was expecting an utter blunder, he isn't expecting it to be so incredibly stupid. So much so that for the few moments of relaxation he had found himself in, he is once again pulling himself up to sitting upon Lucius' overlarge chest.]
And this man is a military officer? [He finds that incredibly hard to believe, and that incredulity is heard quite literally in the tone he takes when he asks the question. More so, his brow furrows along with the twist of his lips into a poutâas if the story has ended in nothing but disappointment.
But... no, it couldn't. After all, this is a story that his Eternal stars in! So of course, there is room for triumph and glory awaiting. Perhaps the climax is not yet here.]
What did you do? Surely you rescued this plan, since the Lord Commander failed so miserably?
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Still, the next words from his mouth aren't quite so exciting, so he settles back against the pillows beneath his body with a click of his tongue. The tips of his claws tap against stony skin, and his overlong tongue licks across his teeth. ]
It's as I said, Eridanus: Eidolon's damage was already done. He merely completed his task... falteringly, rather than making it the decisive triumph it ought to have been. The loyalist resistance still lay broken by the end of it, and that was enough for the Warmaster to call his forces back to their ships â where we all watched as whatever stragglers still stubbornly clung to life were rewarded for their valor by his fleet's world-ending munitions.
[ If Lucius were to speak of regrets, that he couldn't see the light leave Saul's eyes for himself is the only one. But that isn't the topic at hand, and instead, Lucius' lips light with a smile. This is it: the true point of this little anecdote. ]
And when Fulgrim's loyal sons came to stand in front of their primarch once more â well, you already know which one was praised for his cleverness and credited for cutting that conflict short, don't you?
[ Eridanus doesn't really need to answer, because of course the answer is him. He chuckles, the sound low and rich, as he recalls not Fulgrim's praise, but the envy of his brothers who had coveted it in his stead. ]
The next time I saw Lord Commander Eidolon, [ Lucius goes on, without pause, ] he had been tasked with escorting me to Bile's apothecarion. Imagine how he seethed, Eridanus! He had been upstaged by a twice-damned traitor â a pernicious stain on the III Legion's honor he would have left to die with the rest, had the decision been his to make. Of course, [ and his tone suddenly shift sly, ] he hadn't seemed so put out by our bargain when he thought the accolades would be his instead.
[ Lucius' arms pull around Eridanus' waist, drawing him upward. His head leans forward, eyes glittering. ]
That was the moment we both knew, soon, I would rise above him in the eyes of our gene-father.
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As Eridanus is pulled up, closer to that grinning waxen mask boasting its confidence and pride, his own visage cracks with a fond smile. In the end, what he knew to be true was just thatâLucius rose above all the rest, and proved himself to be the king among fools. Now, if only he could see himself as greater than that pestiferous gene-father he goes on about, then he and Eridanus would truly be in agreement.]
Once more your glory is known. How the eyes of your brothers opened to that truth that day is a most glorious tale, my beloved. [He traces the scarified ridges of Lucius' visage with reverent glee, his claws nicking the deadened skin with the haste and carelessness of his excitement. Behind him, his tufted tail whips through the air, and within the thin space between their faces, his eyes gleam ecstatic.] What great honor was awarded to you? Surely you received some prize for your triumph?
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Of course, [ the words are a half-sigh, and with the same idleness, Lucius catches the base of Eridanus' wagging tail within the crook of his thumb and tugs, ] I snubbed them. You know me well enough, Eridanus, to understand that command is nothing more than a means to an end for me. Besides... A larger bed might be more comfortable, but the First Captain's seething face was priceless!
[ A short laugh punctuates the words. ]
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Though the sweet taste of pain doesn't simmer his irritation, it does remind him of his place and so, he resigns himself to leaning down and nuzzling his face into the muscular curve of Lucius' neck. He will continue to bite his tongue for centuries and millennia to come, but that will never douse the flames of his dislike for a man who holds a tighter grip on his Eternal's affections than he does.]
That anyone ever thought less of you is a offense worthy of death, my beloved, [Eridanus mutters bitterly against waxen skin, his claws instead tracing the scars along his consort's chest once more,] I am most pleased to hear that you made those lesser men aware of your greatness.
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[ His idleâpeacefulâsmile widens with his humor, and while his pet's fanaticism is sweet, there is a sense in which even Lucius doesn't see it as merited. After all, as with any other victory, his rise to prominence and power among the III Legion's ranks would have tasted far less sweet unearned.
Beneath Eridanus, the great shape of his body shifts. Lucius turns over in their bed once more, carrying Eridanus' weight with him, and as he settles again, it's his turn to pick affectionately over the newly-returned opal that decorates his consort's face below him. ]
Or perhaps I'll grant you the privilege of doing so yourself, given that you will surely be there at my side.
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He leans his face into those adoring touches, his jewels admired just as well as the scars of the visage before him had been. Eridanus allows his eyes to flutter closed, and were he capable of rumbling his pleasure, he certainly would.]
I would be more than happy to propagate your greatness, [he states, matter-of-factly, with his lips twisting into an uncharacteristically boyish moue,] and if he says anything otherwise, I will be even happier to end his sorry existence in a pillar of hellfire.
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[ Lucius' voice buoys through the still air of their bedroom, and he laughs, bright like the too-harsh light of a lethal sun. He sees the boyish pout set into his consort's lips even as his head lolls in contentment, and unseen to Eridanus' closed eyes, Lucius' grin pulls into an expression of mischief. ]
Eridanus, [ he purrs, his lips ducked close enough for his breath to tickle along the sensitive length of one overlong ear, ] your age is showing.
[ His split tongue dances from his lips. Blessed with its preternatural dexterity, one fork curls around the angular cusp of that ear before his lips; the other seeks with probing interest, teasing at the opening of its canal. ]
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Lucius... [He whimpers, with claws digging into the scarified flesh beneath them, as if he could anchor himself into Lucius' body and keep a hold on his crumbling composure.
He can't, though it isn't so much a bad thing between them. Eridanus draws in a shaking breath, and then he turns his head, pressing his mouth against his lover's. His own tongue unfurls past the thicket of fangs guarding it, greeting Lucius' own just as eagerly as the wanton moans elicited from him would expect. One day, he thinks, they'll kiss before the starsâand that thought alone, is one he cannot wait for.]