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Feb. 1st, 2026 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iniquiticityges + aral + simon, escobar
"Admiral," Aral said, evenly.
"Good evening, Aral," Ges said, taking the few steps into the room. He slid behind Aral, putting his hands on Aral's waist in a way that set off every alarm in Simon's brain. Then he looked over Aral's shoulder at his desk, their bodies pressed together, Aral's hands trapped between them. "What are you working on?"
"Of course you are," Ges replied, his voice low and dangerous. He gave Aral's ear a kiss that turned Simon's stomach.
Simon cleared his throat. Vorrutyer released Aral - Simon saw the minute relaxation, could match every inch of his body language with all the way he'd moved before - and turned to face him.
"My spy, Admiral. Lieutenant Simon Illyan," Aral said.
"Simon Illyan," Ges repeated, tasting it on his tongue, to which certainly they all heard worthless prole trash, "What great high and great fall did you take to be assigned this punishment detail?" He took a step closer to Simon, his eyes narrowed, studying.
"I report to the Emperor directly, sir," Simon said.
Ges did not respond to this. He held Simon's gaze in serpentine coils, constricting Simon's chest. "Ah!" he said, with sudden enlightenment, and then lifted one hand and flicked Simon square in the forehead. "You're the last recorder. Or did any others make it, and I forgot?" A wide, white smile, cruel, stretched across his mouth.
"I am not aware of your privilege of the project, sir," Simon replied, which was true.
Ges Vorrutyer's eyes did not look away from him. "I presume," he said, still in the snakelike voice that gave Simon the suggestion of fangs, "That the Emperor or his familiar has some magical way to get you to disgorge whatever you keep in there, that they have refused to share. There's no reason to make you into this if you can lie."
"He can't be fast-penta'd, if that's what you're asking," Aral waited a beat, "Sir."
Ges sighed, and gave Simon's shoulder a deeply unfriendly squeeze. "No, I suppose not. Ah, well. All things in time. Patience is a great virtue of yours, isn't it, Aral?"
"Never as much as I'd like, sir."
"I would assume your reports are very thorough, Lieutenant," Ges said.
"I hope so, sir," he replied, as blandly as he could manage.
Ges turned away from him back to Aral, who had folded his arms across his chest and was affecting as much boredom as he could manage. Simon knew better; the chip compared the tense muscle in his neck and the clench of his jaw. Ges was taller and slightly heavier than Aral, and when he crowded Aral's space again, trapped him against the flimsy-strewn desk. Aral refused, Simon notice, to move his hands from where they saved space between him and Ges; his back bent, and then alarmingly, as Ges leaned forward over him.
Ges' wristcomm beeped.
"I could leave it open," Ges said into Aral's mouth, in a throaty whisper, and then Simon heard the wet noise of a deep kiss. He was nauseatingly grateful that Vorrutyer's back hid the details.
The wristcomm beeped again, at the second severity setting. Simon heard Aral gasp.
With a heavy sigh Ges stood straight up, revealed handkerchief from his pocket and daintily wiped his mouth.
"I'm being so patient, Aral," Vorrutyer teased, putting the handkerchief away, and pressing the recieved button. He didn't even bother to acknowledge Simon when he left.
Simon's hand, unconsciously, went to his stunner. Aral stood, somewhat surprised, as the door to the room opened without any kind of fanfare at all. He stood, deliberately, hands folding behind his back, at ease.
Ges Vorrutyer closed the door behind him and smiled at Aral, ignoring Simon entirely. He knew Ges, of course - the chip offered up a handful conversations about him, briefings, flashes of his face in hallways. His.... time, with Aral.
"Admiral," Aral said, evenly.
"Good evening, Aral," Ges said, taking the few steps into the room. He slid behind Aral, putting his hands on Aral's waist in a way that set off every alarm in Simon's brain. Then he looked over Aral's shoulder at his desk, their bodies pressed together, Aral's hands trapped between them. "What are you working on?"
"Contingency plans, as per my assignment, sir," Aral replied, with cool annoyance Simon could match from a handful of other conversations. Simon was quietly in awe about how he could even pretend calm in such a helpless position with such a monster.
"Of course you are," Ges replied, his voice low and dangerous. He gave Aral's ear a kiss that turned Simon's stomach.
Simon cleared his throat. Vorrutyer released Aral - Simon saw the minute relaxation, could match every inch of his body language with all the way he'd moved before - and turned to face him.
"My spy, Admiral. Lieutenant Simon Illyan," Aral said.
"Simon Illyan," Ges repeated, tasting it on his tongue, to which certainly they all heard worthless prole trash, "What great high and great fall did you take to be assigned this punishment detail?" He took a step closer to Simon, his eyes narrowed, studying.
"I report to the Emperor directly, sir," Simon said.
Ges did not respond to this. He held Simon's gaze in serpentine coils, constricting Simon's chest. "Ah!" he said, with sudden enlightenment, and then lifted one hand and flicked Simon square in the forehead. "You're the last recorder. Or did any others make it, and I forgot?" A wide, white smile, cruel, stretched across his mouth.
"I am not aware of your privilege of the project, sir," Simon replied, which was true.
Ges Vorrutyer's eyes did not look away from him. "I presume," he said, still in the snakelike voice that gave Simon the suggestion of fangs, "That the Emperor or his familiar has some magical way to get you to disgorge whatever you keep in there, that they have refused to share. There's no reason to make you into this if you can lie."
"He can't be fast-penta'd, if that's what you're asking," Aral waited a beat, "Sir."
Ges sighed, and gave Simon's shoulder a deeply unfriendly squeeze. "No, I suppose not. Ah, well. All things in time. Patience is a great virtue of yours, isn't it, Aral?"
"Never as much as I'd like, sir."
"I would assume your reports are very thorough, Lieutenant," Ges said.
"I hope so, sir," he replied, as blandly as he could manage.
Ges turned away from him back to Aral, who had folded his arms across his chest and was affecting as much boredom as he could manage. Simon knew better; the chip compared the tense muscle in his neck and the clench of his jaw. Ges was taller and slightly heavier than Aral, and when he crowded Aral's space again, trapped him against the flimsy-strewn desk. Aral refused, Simon notice, to move his hands from where they saved space between him and Ges; his back bent, and then alarmingly, as Ges leaned forward over him.
Ges' wristcomm beeped.
"I could leave it open," Ges said into Aral's mouth, in a throaty whisper, and then Simon heard the wet noise of a deep kiss. He was nauseatingly grateful that Vorrutyer's back hid the details.
The wristcomm beeped again, at the second severity setting. Simon heard Aral gasp.
With a heavy sigh Ges stood straight up, revealed handkerchief from his pocket and daintily wiped his mouth.
"I'm being so patient, Aral," Vorrutyer teased, putting the handkerchief away, and pressing the recieved button. He didn't even bother to acknowledge Simon when he left.