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“Man, I wonder if they have massage bots on board,” Jace laughed.

Khoth went very still and Jace wondered why. The Osiris had all the answers suddenly.

The activities you are engaging in are already establishing a bond of the type that leads to a mating, the Osiris answered. To massage you would be to take another step in that process.

Mating… wait, what? Don’t Thaf’ell date? Jace blinked.

Do you merely wish to date him? The Osiris asked. For my understanding of your thoughts on this matter--

No, I don’t want to just date him, Jace admitted. But Khoth has already had a lot to absorb and now you’re telling me that I suggested we--

Khoth’s hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed it. It was Jace’s turn to freeze. “Hmmm, you do appear tense. I think you do need a massage.”

“I’ll find that massage bot and--

“We do not need a machine,” Khoth murmured, his voice lowering and his eyes hooding. “Now, Jace, lay down on your front.”

Firsts

As Jace proceeded to turn onto his stomach, Khoth found himself saying, “Perhaps you should take off your shirt.”

Jace froze in mid-turn. He could almost feel Jace blinking as he always did when Khoth did something unexpected, or amusing. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. He would hate if his attempts at seduction were funny to Jace rather than romantic. He hadn’t done research into human mating rituals. He wondered if he should have before embarking on this course. But it was too late now. He was committed.

It would be illogical for him to claim that these acts weren’t romantic. And despite what difficulties having a relationship with the Pilot, his superior, and a different species would bring… he had no doubts about doing this. Some would, undoubtedly, think he was trying to fill the hole of family and belonging by starting this romantic attachment with Jace.

But, though that was more logical than what he was feeling, he was certain it was not so. From the moment he had met the Pilot some part of him had known that their paths were intertwined. He had, after all, ignored what was best for the Alliance when he saved Jace’s life that first time. That it had ended up being the absolute perfect thing to save the Alliance was, well, luck as the humans would say. The Thaf’ell would call it daq. Where logic, reason and consequences had no place. Daq was the reason that some believed in gods or some sort of higher power. Daq had led him to Jace.

“Oh, yeah, good idea. Shirt off and turn over. I can do that,” Jace finally answered and got up on his knees so as to accomplish this first task.

Jace reached down for the hem of his shirt and, uncharacteristically, was clumsy as he brought it up over his head… and it got stuck.

“What the Hell?” Jace hissed as he struggled to get the clingy shirt off his head. He blindly wiggled right then left then right again. “Ah, really?! Really, shirt, you’re doing this to me now?! Et tu, Brute?!”

Khoth watched as Jace pulled at the shirt that just seemed to stretch rather than come off. But his eyes slid from Jace’s covered head to the rest of him as if they had a mind of their own.

Jace’s chest was bare. His skin was a golden color with his nipples darker like coffee. He was muscular yet lithe. There was more softness about him compared Khoth’s own chest. He found his fingers itching to touch that softness and see if it felt like he imagined.

“I think I’m having trouble breathing,” Jace let out a bark of laughter. “The shirt is trying to kill me!”

“Let me help you,” Khoth said as he couldn’t bear to watch Jace wrestle with the shirt anymore. He knew it wasn’t actually causing Jace trouble breathing.

Khoth took a firm hold of the shirt and pulled. It popped off Jace’s head. Jace blinked again as if he were a mole-creature emerging from its den. His bronze-colored hair stuck up in all directions and he looked rather bewildered.

“You remind me of a frun,” Khoth chuckled.

“What is a frun?” Jace quickly reached up to fix his hair. He merely managed to smoosh it against his head but it was still messy. This only had him looking more like a frun.

“It would likely be compared to a small earth-dwelling rodent that--”

“You think I look like a--a rodent?” Jace’s voice rose, half in amusement and half in horror.

“N-no, well, yes, but they are very endearing with their big eyes filled with confusion and hair sticking up every place and--”

“Khoth, you are digging yourself deeper here,” Jace warned though he looked more amused than horrified now.

“I am not digging. I am merely sitting here with your shirt.” Khoth realized that he was running his fingers over Jace’s shirt as if it was the young man’s skin.

Jace saw what he was doing. The young man met Khoth’s gaze and gave him a half smile even as he flushed. Fruns did not blush. Not all pink and sweet. It was so endearing.