[ He doesn't sense the other man approaching because he's a little too preoccupied, trying not to get himself worked up. As such, he jumps very, very faintly at the other man's voice, eyes snapping open and then, naturally, he has to dampen the surge of annoyance that follows in the wake of being startled in the first place. He looks to the side at the newcomer and recognises him immediately. ]
So, he reaches out and plucks the cup from Ulos' hand - with the Force, mind, because getting up to actually take it from his hand would bring them into closer proximity than he'd like to instigate at this moment. Case in point, the murdered peaduck. The cup floats through the air in an elegant arch and he catches it between his flesh fingers easily, setting it down on the ground beside him. ]
I guess everyone's pretty busy doing their own thing.
[ The boy naturally doesn't get to his feet to take the wine, that would be much too easy. Instead he... he... Ulos stares, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, as the cup floats from his hand and right into the other man's, what was his name, something foreign and weird. Anakin. Something Sky, he didn't catch the rest, not like Anakin Sky-something catches the cup elegantly between his fingers and puts it away. Really. ]
And what are you doing, Anakin - [ Something sky-something, something, doesn't matter. ] - besides making things fly?
[ He laughs, the startled kind, and loud. Is Sarica's new toy a priest? Air priest, maybe? Yet, he's never... seen... He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, looking him over. Celibacy never looked that good, you got to be honest. Never before looked that good.
[ Anakin, says Ulos, sounding like they've been best pals for a long time indeed. Anakin, in turn, frowns and leaves the cup of wine as it is, full, untouched. It seems a lost cause now, expecting the man to leave with just that - he doesn't know what else he could want, honestly, but now he's here and unless Anakin feels like walking away, the conversation seems inevitable.
He tries, then, to keep his ground for now. Besides, he was here first, even if the other man seems to have been... elsewhere, first. Much earlier. ]
I'm, uh. [ He waves his hand at the half-floating peaduck. Sets it down on the water and lets it go. ] Trying to meditate.
[ He looks away from Ulos, feeling awkward all the way to his bones. At least the anger's on retreat at the moment, replaced by... nerves? Something like that. He glances down at the wine, wondering if maybe getting a little drunk wouldn't improve this situation by a few degrees but then again, it might not. Instead, he looks towards the water in the pool, watching the surface rippling. ]
[ The boy loses it. Something comes tumbling down from the air, some floating bird, was it flying? Was he... flying it? Meditate, Anakin says and Ulos knows, the priests do that. Has Sarica really gotten his hands on an air priest? Bad boy. No wonder business' closed for everyone else right now, he'd probably fuck his brains out, too, if he had one of those at hand. Mysteries!
Moving slowly forward, he draws closer to the boy who's looking everwhere else than at him and Ulos smells blood in the water, he thinks, at least figuratively and definitely sees some weakness there. Moving up in front of the other man, he stops at what might seem a polite distance, but it just a little bit too close. He can feel his body heat from here, in the chill night, a separate sensation than flames, than burning torches, all around them.
Romantic. ]
Yes, I hear you priests do that. Good thing Sarica knows all sorts of things about priesthood already, huh?
[ Knows how to treat your kind, it means. He reaches up one hand and, very deliberately, simply flicks at the boy's bangs with a finger, soft. ]
[ He gets to his feet somewhat reflexively as the other man steps closer, not entirely uncomfortable looking up at him any longer. Ulos, meanwhile, draws all the way into his personal space - it might be right at the edge, really, but to Anakin, it's all the same. He forces himself not to shift backwards, meeting the other man's gaze with as much polite neutrality as he can muster. The man is a politician of sorts. Be sensible.
Then, Ulos proceeds to touch his hair and Anakin blinks, staring at his hand. Uh. Squaring his shoulders a little, he tries to make sense of what the man just said, pushing the feeling of his fingertips brushing over his forehead firmly out of his mind. You priests, he said. Oh, like the temple priests! He shakes his head, refusing to back away. ]
Before all this business with his runaway lover and the war, half his job was travelling between the temples and legislating for them. [ His hand falls, though he gestures a big loosely with it on the way, all the wine he's drunk tonight making him slow and uncoordinated. He shifts his wine cup to his other hand and takes a long drink, wiping at his beard with the back of his hand before he continues, looking like he's reminiscing old times. ] Boring work, but he's good at it. Sarica can twist any kind of gibberish into something that sounds like law. Any institution can benefit from that...
[ Another, longer drink of his cup and it's suddenly empty, so Ulos looks down at the dregs and then, just tosses it aside, hearing it land on the marble slabs around the pool. Clunk, clunk, clunk it says. He doesn't even look after it, thinking priest boy here can float it back to him if he's concerned. It's got as much brain as a duck, less wings.
Finally, he steps all up in Anakin's face, having to look up to really meet his gaze. Tall and strong and pliant, yes, that's Sarica's type, now he recognises him again, doesn't he? He runs his palm down the side of the boy's face, dropping his hand to his shoulder then, closer to his neck, taking hold.
Pulling forward, they're nose to nose. ]
But enough about that, ask him yourself. I think you should ask me about how well my cock would fit in that mouth of yours.
[ Ulos tells him nothing much - Anakin's stomach clenches, though, all the same, at the thought of Sarica doing business with the temples, maybe finding someone he'd... He shakes his head, pushing the thought away. It isn't particularly hard, either, with Ulos getting completely in his face now, wiping his beard, a few pearls of red still clinging to it here and there. He reeks of it. Anakin has to force his nose not to scrunch up and realises only a split-second later that it's a left-over habit from when he was very, very young.
Never let them see, his mother said. Let them see what they want, not what you are.
He's never forgotten the way she looked when she died but sometimes, he thinks he might've forgotten other things. Equally important things.
He swallows. Ulos' hand feels heavy against his shoulder, too close to his neck. His hand is a little too warm, damp from the heat of the evening. ]
[ He steps away, but they all do, at first. Before they realise what power Ulos wields, what power he wields together with Sarica, how they are as much kings as the royalty of Mergan up north. Efith is a democracy, but just barely. They're kings.
Stepping forward surprisingly swiftly, Ulos follows the boy back and grabs his upper arm, bringing himself chest to chest with him, face to face and he wrings his arm, twisting him down on his level. Go back inside, no, not without his taste.
He's too sweet, Sarica's boy, but they always are, right? They always are.
Smashing their mouths together, he kisses him, pushing his tongue in between his lips and taking that cavity first. Taste, yes. He tastes nice, good, sweet. Whatever he is, it tastes different from the drunken men inside who aren't even allowed to fling their clothes anywhere and get to it, the reason they're really there. Business, Sarica insisted. They all agreed, but they all hate it. They all recognise what it means.
The end of an era.
So Ulos kisses Sarica's boy and has his taste and he'll take it with him when he leaves. ]
[ Ulos... steps right back into his personal space and after that, things happen too quickly and his heart is already racing, mind wild with thoughts about Sarica who's inside the villa, who's dodging these nasty attacks left and right, he ought to be there - and then, Ulos actually grabs his arm and twists, Anakin grunting slightly at the sudden strain on his muscles. He stares at Ulos, wide-eyed, and then the man chooses to - to -
Eyes wide open, he's terrified for all of two seconds.
Then, the anger returns.
He doesn't care about Ulos' tongue in his mouth, aside from forgetting about it as fast as possible. He doesn't care about the other man's proximity, about his beard, about the wine on his breath or the hunger in his eyes. Eyes blazing, he grabs hold of Ulos with the Force, his hand clenching as he reaches right into his chest and cradles his spine, pulling him up, up, until his feet leave the ground and he's hanging in the air.
Snarling wordlessly, he sends him flying towards the pool and dunks him in, hard. The peaducks fly everywhere, clearly astonished. And Anakin remembers only after a good handful of seconds that people must breathe, releasing Ulos from beneath the water and leaving him to come to the surface by himself. ]
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no subject
Taxer Ulos.
[ He tries for a polite smile. It's somewhat strained around the edges, seeing as the few times Anakin's spoken to Sarica throughout the evening, this particular man has been on the front lines, trying to get close, trying to get... well. He's trying not to think about it. Sarica said that he wouldn't and really, that's what matters. He can't make the same mistake again, the one he made with Clovis and Padmé. He's grown beyond that.
So, he reaches out and plucks the cup from Ulos' hand - with the Force, mind, because getting up to actually take it from his hand would bring them into closer proximity than he'd like to instigate at this moment. Case in point, the murdered peaduck. The cup floats through the air in an elegant arch and he catches it between his flesh fingers easily, setting it down on the ground beside him. ]
I guess everyone's pretty busy doing their own thing.
no subject
And what are you doing, Anakin - [ Something sky-something, something, doesn't matter. ] - besides making things fly?
[ He laughs, the startled kind, and loud. Is Sarica's new toy a priest? Air priest, maybe? Yet, he's never... seen... He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, looking him over. Celibacy never looked that good, you got to be honest. Never before looked that good.
Ulos cocks his head. ]
no subject
He tries, then, to keep his ground for now. Besides, he was here first, even if the other man seems to have been... elsewhere, first. Much earlier. ]
I'm, uh. [ He waves his hand at the half-floating peaduck. Sets it down on the water and lets it go. ] Trying to meditate.
[ He looks away from Ulos, feeling awkward all the way to his bones. At least the anger's on retreat at the moment, replaced by... nerves? Something like that. He glances down at the wine, wondering if maybe getting a little drunk wouldn't improve this situation by a few degrees but then again, it might not. Instead, he looks towards the water in the pool, watching the surface rippling. ]
no subject
Moving slowly forward, he draws closer to the boy who's looking everwhere else than at him and Ulos smells blood in the water, he thinks, at least figuratively and definitely sees some weakness there. Moving up in front of the other man, he stops at what might seem a polite distance, but it just a little bit too close. He can feel his body heat from here, in the chill night, a separate sensation than flames, than burning torches, all around them.
Romantic. ]
Yes, I hear you priests do that. Good thing Sarica knows all sorts of things about priesthood already, huh?
[ Knows how to treat your kind, it means. He reaches up one hand and, very deliberately, simply flicks at the boy's bangs with a finger, soft. ]
no subject
Then, Ulos proceeds to touch his hair and Anakin blinks, staring at his hand. Uh. Squaring his shoulders a little, he tries to make sense of what the man just said, pushing the feeling of his fingertips brushing over his forehead firmly out of his mind. You priests, he said. Oh, like the temple priests! He shakes his head, refusing to back away. ]
No, no, I'm not --
[ Wait, what? ]
What do you mean, he knows about priesthood?
no subject
[ Another, longer drink of his cup and it's suddenly empty, so Ulos looks down at the dregs and then, just tosses it aside, hearing it land on the marble slabs around the pool. Clunk, clunk, clunk it says. He doesn't even look after it, thinking priest boy here can float it back to him if he's concerned. It's got as much brain as a duck, less wings.
Finally, he steps all up in Anakin's face, having to look up to really meet his gaze. Tall and strong and pliant, yes, that's Sarica's type, now he recognises him again, doesn't he? He runs his palm down the side of the boy's face, dropping his hand to his shoulder then, closer to his neck, taking hold.
Pulling forward, they're nose to nose. ]
But enough about that, ask him yourself. I think you should ask me about how well my cock would fit in that mouth of yours.
no subject
Never let them see, his mother said. Let them see what they want, not what you are.
He's never forgotten the way she looked when she died but sometimes, he thinks he might've forgotten other things. Equally important things.
He swallows. Ulos' hand feels heavy against his shoulder, too close to his neck. His hand is a little too warm, damp from the heat of the evening. ]
I think we've spoken enough, sir.
[ He takes a step backwards, out of Ulos' grip. ]
Go back inside.
no subject
Stepping forward surprisingly swiftly, Ulos follows the boy back and grabs his upper arm, bringing himself chest to chest with him, face to face and he wrings his arm, twisting him down on his level. Go back inside, no, not without his taste.
He's too sweet, Sarica's boy, but they always are, right? They always are.
Smashing their mouths together, he kisses him, pushing his tongue in between his lips and taking that cavity first. Taste, yes. He tastes nice, good, sweet. Whatever he is, it tastes different from the drunken men inside who aren't even allowed to fling their clothes anywhere and get to it, the reason they're really there. Business, Sarica insisted. They all agreed, but they all hate it. They all recognise what it means.
The end of an era.
So Ulos kisses Sarica's boy and has his taste and he'll take it with him when he leaves. ]
no subject
Eyes wide open, he's terrified for all of two seconds.
Then, the anger returns.
He doesn't care about Ulos' tongue in his mouth, aside from forgetting about it as fast as possible. He doesn't care about the other man's proximity, about his beard, about the wine on his breath or the hunger in his eyes. Eyes blazing, he grabs hold of Ulos with the Force, his hand clenching as he reaches right into his chest and cradles his spine, pulling him up, up, until his feet leave the ground and he's hanging in the air.
Snarling wordlessly, he sends him flying towards the pool and dunks him in, hard. The peaducks fly everywhere, clearly astonished. And Anakin remembers only after a good handful of seconds that people must breathe, releasing Ulos from beneath the water and leaving him to come to the surface by himself. ]