"I've come to the conclusion that Darlene would probably not regret it if
we hooked up while...slightly impaired," Elijah says, clinically. "Beyond
that, I know I'm not an attractive person."
This is, curiously, a long-held belief that has never once butted up
against his ego. He's a genius. He was one of the world's richest men. He
never once needed to compound that with being physically appealing. While
he had decided he was going to be a talented lover so that the sex workers
he engaged wouldn't have reason to go telling tales, that was for the sake
of reputational management, nothing more.
Here, without any of the resources that once drew people in, he knows Rhys
is an outlier.
"Do you remember when I first arrived on board and was compelled to sing
about how I prefer sex with robots to humans? You are literally the only
person on board who wouldn't find that...terminally offputting."
He's not embarrassed by it, just....aware. At the very most, in a trashy
romance novel context, he's the second-string rich asshole who gets ditched
for the muscular stablehand two chapters in.
"Well you still need to leave your room and smile at people if you want them to try."
Rhys explains gently.
"People don't just message total strangers to proposition them." Unless they're extremely result oriented, "Go hang out in the lounge, get a couple of drinks. Look available."
Rhys wraps his arm around Elijah's back, drawing him in tight as they kiss. When it ends he doesn't let Elijah go, keeping the other man close.
"I don't want to turn us into two people who talk about all of our feelings." He tells Elijah's mouth, "But I really needed someone to give a damn about me today. Thank you."
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"I've come to the conclusion that Darlene would probably not regret it if we hooked up while...slightly impaired," Elijah says, clinically. "Beyond that, I know I'm not an attractive person."
This is, curiously, a long-held belief that has never once butted up against his ego. He's a genius. He was one of the world's richest men. He never once needed to compound that with being physically appealing. While he had decided he was going to be a talented lover so that the sex workers he engaged wouldn't have reason to go telling tales, that was for the sake of reputational management, nothing more.
Here, without any of the resources that once drew people in, he knows Rhys is an outlier.
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Rhys says, just, bare faced in his disbelief.
"You're like, trashy romance novel cover dude unattainable hot."
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"Do you remember when I first arrived on board and was compelled to sing about how I prefer sex with robots to humans? You are literally the only person on board who wouldn't find that...terminally offputting."
He's not embarrassed by it, just....aware. At the very most, in a trashy romance novel context, he's the second-string rich asshole who gets ditched for the muscular stablehand two chapters in.
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Counterpoint: He's the kinky billionaire who takes you up in his jet and gets his robot maids to undress you.
"And again, you're stunning. Even if that was a deal breaker for long term commitment, people would still want to go to bed with you."
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He would fully admit that that had currency when he had a private jet and robot maids. Here? Enh.
"I've been here for over a year, and they...haven't," he says mildly. "Which doesn't exactly endorse your theory."
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Rhys explains gently.
"People don't just message total strangers to proposition them." Unless they're extremely result oriented, "Go hang out in the lounge, get a couple of drinks. Look available."
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Elijah gives him a look that can best be described as 'polite bewilderment'.
"I...don't particularly want to."
Why go to all the trouble of making himself look available just to prove what he already knows?
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But...
"Just to clarify, you don't want to be with anyone else, or you just don't want to have to go flirt?"
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"I...don't have a particularly high libido," he says, feeling like he's in the process of being slowly skinned alive. "I enjoy being with you."
With all the occasionally kinky practice that entails.
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"Thank you. That's-- that's really nice. I like it too."
Even if he also wants to be roughed up by a ghost a bit.
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'Nice' feels like damnation with faint praise, but he decides that's just him being oversensitive and moves on.
"Further to that, if there's anything you want us to do that's....new, or...different," he says, cautiously. "You know we can discuss that."
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Rhys answers, letting the suggestion hang in the open. Before moving on to the question that really underlines the conversation for him:
"Elijah, are you still all right with us doing this? With-- me doing this?"
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Elijah lets the question just hang between them, briefly.
"I didn't think I would care. Or that I'd need any sort of...adjustment period. Both those things are true, but with that said...yes. I'm alright."
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"That's good. If there's something we should do-- that I can do that'll make it easier for you-- you'll talk to me about it, right?"
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"Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you."
Deep breath. Is this what vulnerability feels like? He's not sure he's into it.
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Kiss now please.
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Kiss now, yes. Fair is fair. Elijah cards a hand through his hair, gently cradling the back of his head.
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"I don't want to turn us into two people who talk about all of our feelings." He tells Elijah's mouth, "But I really needed someone to give a damn about me today. Thank you."
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"It's my pleasure," Elijah murmurs, keeping in close. "You'll stay here tonight?"
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"Is anyone here entirely in one piece, emotionally speaking?" Elijah kisses his throat lightly. "I'm doing more than putting up, Rhys."
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"You have at least as much putting up to do with me," Elijah points out, and runs his hand lightly down his side.