ukan | IC CONTACT

"Yeah what do you think of him?" An honest question, while he keeps teasing Alec's skin. It's rare that they have the same affections for people, and he isn't sure if Alec is doing it just for his sake. He hasn't seen them together yet; he can only hope it's more than just appeasing him.

While it's true that in a way, Alec being here at all is appeasing Lark - he certainly wouldn't be here alone - it's also true that if he didn't want to be here, didn't want to do this, he wouldn't. He's put his foot down before. That he can do it again is precious to him.

He shrugs, shifting ever so slightly closer in the bed to keep Lark's hand on him, to give him better reach.

"He likes you. He's always prepared to be insulted, but also to be talked out of it if you're paying attention. I don't know how much tea I can take on the regular -" Which is its own joke; Alec could drink antifreeze daily if he decided it was necessary. "- but there have been worse people on this ship."

He smiles a bit at that 'tea' bit. It's delicious and he knows how Alec really is with tasty things.

"It's important to me that you get along, but if it wasn't genuine I'd rather you two fought. I don't want you to get along just for me, and I know he won't. So he must actually like you."

"Well, I am incredibly charming when I want to be," Alec points out, and it's only half a joke.

"What surprises me more is that you genuinely like him. What caught your eye?"

"His showmanship," Lark smirks, meaning it though. "It reminded me of you. So I knew how to respond to it, and then he responded to me reacting appropriately. It's gone from there. He's not like you underneath--he's more like me. So it worked out in an even way."

Alec gives him the flattest, stillest look.

"I am not that fickle. Is that the you part?"

"Oh, you don't have showmanship?" Lark scoffs, leaning down to kiss him. "Who was it that entered a drag show? Who was it who took over on 'pole night' at the Caberet?"

Alec accepts the kiss, but gives him the same poker faced look on the other side of it.

"Poppy Cox."

The name never, ever fails to make Lark laugh. Although this time he smothers it against Alec's neck. "Poppy Cox, who loves to blue balls me backstage. She's a bitch."

This is where Alec gives in to his grin, too, and laughs at the summary. He's not wrong.

"You loved it," he accuses in return. "And I'm still not convinced you didn't arrange for the entire thing to happen. It is not a coincidence that we just happened to be in town for the national pole dancing competition."

"I have never given you any reason to believe that," he murmurs, kissing Alec in the slow, self-denying way he had in Vegas. "It was pure coincidence. Why would I look at pole dancing competitions when you had never been on one before then?"

"Because," he returns, punctuating it with another kiss, as slow. "I've -" Another kiss, bringing himself up onto his elbows. "Met -" And another, pushing up higher on the bed again. "You. And I know that either you plan these sorts of things, or you take an opportunity when you see it."

"But have you met you?" Lark smirks, wanting to chase Alec with another kiss and restraining himself the moment before he touches him. "I can't plan anything around you."

Alec has learned the look of Lark testing himself by now. He stays right where he is, stays close, right where he might close the distance himself at any moment but he doesn't, smiling.

"But you love the challenge of trying."

"Because sometimes I'm right," he returns, enjoying this immensely. "Just like I know if I kiss you again, you'll blue balls me as much as you did in Vegas, and I'll take it out on the Barge. Think of the innocent passengers."

"But what happens if you kiss me twice?" he posits, tracing one finger almost playfully along the point of Lark's shoulder.

"And do you really want me thinking of anyone outside this room when it happens?"

"Like you'd think of anyone but me," he scoffs, and kisses him just to prove he can without losing his head.

"Mm," Alec agrees but then he's being kissed, and he knows exactly what kind of challenge that is.

He's shifted himself back up beside Lark by this point, and here is where he presses himself inch by inch, bit by bit up against Lark's side, sliding one arm around him to hold him close. Here is where he rubs one foot along his leg until he can slide it between them, and cinch them closer still, all in the same slow breath.

"I'm going to regret starting this, aren't I?" he murmurs against Alec's mouth, already running his fingers down Alec's back with a gentle hint his nails might do more.

It's the kind of threat that makes Alec smile, although he's usually amused by threats of all stripes. Just now he shrugs, and presses his knee slowly higher along the inside of Lark's thigh.

"I keep waiting for you to admit it," he teases. "But you insist that you never have."

"I have to keep practicing," he insists, kissing Alec's jaw, urging him to lift his head a bit so Lark can kiss his throat. "Remember that time at the opera? When we tried this at intermission and I gave in, caved like a boy at prom... we missed the whole second act... those expensive tickets, such a shame..."

"Didn't I win those tickets," he returns, relenting and opening up access to his neck only after making Lark linger a moment or three in front of his decision to do so. "Playing poker?" he continues with a low but encouraging sound in his throat.

"You know I still don't know why prom matters," he reminds him, sliding one hand in between them, down at the same pace as he snugs that knee finally right between Lark's legs where he wants it.

He hisses through his teeth and for a few seconds his grip on Alec's hip is bruising as he fights for and regains control of himself.

"I'd take you to prom but," kissing his collarbone now. "I'd stand out and probably get arrested. Maybe the Admiral will throw one."

Lark hisses. Alec grins. There has never been any shortage of evidence for how much each of them wants the other, how strongly and enthusiastically Lark responds to his touch, but it feels good all the same to know that he has that kind of effect. That someone wants him this much.

It makes him take his time rubbing ever so slightly back and forth right where he was when Lark's grip first went tight, eyes half closed as he focuses on Lark's breath against his skin.

"Or maybe he'll throw another Halloween party," he suggests, knowing exactly what he's doing.

The thought of it shakes his control again, because the memory of that night--the whole of it, not just the heels and the fishnets--has a safe space in his mind.

"October's so far away though," he mumbles, kissing his way back up Alec's neck. If he tries to kiss any lower he'll really end up struggling for control; best to regroup.

God help him, if Pagan calls him right now he'll scream (he'll love the challenge).

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