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Reverie

Summary:

MR-SN has a different sort of dream than usual.

A sequel of sorts to Part I of Caliburn67's "What Happens in the Captain's Quarters stays in the Captain's Quarters."

Notes:

I guess *this* is the first RWD fanfic I'm writing. Was I possessed? Am I just so sick and my brain so liquefied that I couldn't let this concept go until it was written down? Unclear. Blame Cal for putting this idea in my head lol.
Rated M for suggestive themes. And if you didn't know that going in... go read Cal's fic first. I mean, read it first anyway, then this one will make a little more sense.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Someone knocked at his door, three light taps in quick succession. The sound of metal on wood echoed through the room.

"Come in," MR-SN called from his seat at his desk. He could have reached out with his mind, identified his guest and beckoned them inside through telepathy. But that hardly seemed necessary. He knew exactly who was waiting on the other side of that door – he'd called him here, after all.

MR-SN kept his gaze trained on the stack of papers on his desk. At the edge of his vision, he saw the door creak open and a silver shape slip inside. They closed the door behind them with a quiet click and remained standing next to it, still at first but starting to fidget after a long moment. MR-SN didn't look up just yet, despite the fact that he hadn't been truly focused on his work for some time now. He didn't intend to ignore his guest entirely – quite the opposite, in fact. But the silence added drama, a few extra seconds of tension, and he had to admit he enjoyed the feeling of someone patiently waiting for him. He made a show of finishing his work, gathering the pens and loose pages and carefully putting them away, before he finally looked up.

Standing before him, framed by the dark wood walls of the captain's quarters, was VR-LA. He held the end of his scarf in his hands, fiddling with its slightly fraying hem, picking at the unraveling threads. He was anxious; “anxious” seemed to be the wizard's default state of being, at least since joining the crew of the Per Aspera. But there was something else, a certain glow in his gold eyes, that MR-SN couldn't quite place. While he couldn’t define it for sure, he found himself fascinated, curious to discover exactly what was behind it. A smile crossed his face as he appraised him, not his usual wide grin, but something more subtle. With a sweep of his hand he gestured to the open space beside his desk, issuing a silent command. 

It seemed to take VR-LA a moment to process this, but when he did his eyes widened, and he hurried across the room to stand where MR-SN had directed. He met his captain's eyes, then glanced away, then back again.

MR-SN started to lean toward him, but paused, a sobering thought passing through his mind. He closed his eyes, resting his hands on the edge of the desk, putting a deliberate serious tone into his words. "VR-LA... I know I called you in here today. I know you agreed to be here. But, I want to be perfectly clear. What I'm asking of you... Well, I have no desire to take advantage of you. You are under no obligation to stay, especially if you become uncomfortable at any point. No explanation necessary, you may simply leave." He opened his eyes and looked up at the wizard, hoping his seriousness had translated to his gaze. "Do you understand?"

VR-LA nodded, his voice wavering as he murmured, "I understand." He was definitely still nervous – he'd managed to unwind a single long thread from the edge of his scarf, maybe two inches long, and had it partly twisted around his fingers. But there was that spark in his eyes, what MR-SN finally recognized as anticipation, reverence, and perhaps something more. He couldn't help but smile at the thought, more so when VR-LA started fidgeting just a bit faster.

"Good... Good. In that case..." MR-SN felt some of the tension in his shoulders relax. He leaned sideways in his chair, resting his chin on one hand, projecting a sense of casual authority, one he was well practiced in. Allowing his restraint to ease, bit by bit, he spoke again, his voice soft and thick like honey. "Get down for me, please."

Clearly VR-LA had been waiting for this moment as well. In an instant he let go of his scarf, shaking himself free of the loosened thread, and dropped down to the ground, tucking his legs beneath him and folding his hands together just as he had before. He shifted a bit, adjusting to a slightly more comfortable position, then with wide eyes looked up at his captain.

Gods, what a sight he was. The chrome of VR-LA's plating studded with the myriad stars of the Astral Sea, sparkling like precious stones, the ever-shifting auroras painting streaks of color across his face. His bright golden eyes, twin suns flickering with ethereal light and a thinly veiled devotion, catching stray motes of starlight and shifting them into the embers of a smoldering flame. MR-SN felt himself let out a shaky sigh, his powercore skipping a beat as he gazed down at him. The wizard was clearly enthralled, those burning eyes not once leaving his captain's face. And MR-SN had the feeling that if he'd seen his own face, he'd look just the same. 

Bracing himself against the armrest with one hand, he leaned forward out of his chair, narrowing the gap between the two mechanites. He reached out his other hand and carefully cupped the side of VR-LA's face, fingers tucking under his chin, thumb passing idly over his cheek. He could feel the heat radiating off of his faceplate, the slight flutter of his mechanics working overtime to keep his composure. VR-LA pressed into his touch, his eyes falling closed, then springing open a moment later as regained his faculties.

MR-SN hummed with satisfaction at the sight. The thought that he could elicit such a reaction with so little delighted him; he wondered how unraveled the wizard could become with nothing but the touch of a hand, and perhaps a few words of encouragement.

"You're beautiful, darling," he breathed, voice warm and heavy. He let his fingertips brush beneath his chin, and he felt VR-LA shiver in his grasp. "Seeing you kneeled at my feet, waiting for me, so eager to please... I've seen little in the planescape lovelier than this." 

VR-LA was trembling now, fans whirring and mechanics hitching sporadically, but made no attempt to move away. His eyes were narrowed, unfocused, but still blazing with emotion. He seemed to be struggling to keep them open, fighting to keep his gaze from drifting away from MR-SN’s face.

MR-SN tilted his head a bit, the ghost of an idea forming in his mind. "So obedient," he mused, running his hand down the side of his wizard’s neck and knotting his fingers in the soft blue fabric of his scarf. “Tell me… what else are you willing to do ?”

***

MR-SN’s eyes shot open, taking in nothing but darkness. He wasn’t sitting at his desk – he was sprawled out in his hammock, his back twisted uncomfortably, his face pressed into the rough fabric. One arm dangled down to the floor, fingertips just brushing the wooden slats below him. The same arm he’d reached out with in his dream. He wrenched it away without thinking, as though he’d just been burned. Then, careful to avoid losing balance, he pulled himself into a seated position and pressed his palms into his eyes. 

"…shit."

He was even worse off than he’d thought. Never had one of his dreams been so… distinct . They were nearly always abstract, images of landscapes and creatures beyond mortal ken, suggestions of names and instructions conveyed without words. There was the occasional nightmare, moments from memories or other dreams stitched together with the threads of his own anxieties. But that? That was something new altogether.

For a moment, MR-SN didn’t move. He held his face in his hands, willing the rapid faltering rhythm of his powercore to ease, crushing down the tongues of flame smoldering in his chest. He could not let himself dwell on such inane ideas. Inane, and reckless, and dangerous. Following such a ridiculous fantasy was a very good way to get people hurt, not to mention to be hurt himself. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that this whole journey, the entire quest of the Per Aspera and its crew, was built on following the strange and implausible details his dreams revealed to him. 

No, this was different. He wouldn’t allow it. 

MR-SN steadied himself, then hopped down from his hammock, crossing the room in long strides and coming to a halt before the wide bay of windows on the back wall. Normally he’d spend a few quiet moments gazing out at the Astral Sea, tracing the paths of the constellations, pondering the heroes of legend enshrined in the infinite sky, wondering whether he’d ever find himself among them one day. But right now, he refused to bother with such fanciful notions. He briefly considered leaping into the dark still water – perhaps it would help clear his mind, or even rid him of that damned dream entirely. But he pushed this thought away as well. Instead, he took hold of the heavy drapes flanking the windows and drew them closed with a snap of fabric. The room fell dark, and MR-SN had to squint to see through the sudden gloom. But it was one less distraction.

He turned on his heel and beelined for his desk. But rather than standing next to it or – gods forbid – taking a seat, he walked right past it, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper as he went. He started pacing back and forth across the room, scrawling out notes before he could forget them.

Need extra chairs for meetings. Two or three, just to be safe. But that might raise questions... Ah, I'll take stock of all the mundane supplies on the ship. I'm sure K-LB will have plenty of suggestions there. What else, what else. Group meetings, whenever possible. It won't hurt for everyone to be on the same page. The common room will be fine for that. Hmm…

MR-SN turned the pen between his fingers, not thinking of the stray blots of ink dripping onto the floor as he went. He added two words at the bottom of the list: STOP FLIRTING. A pause; he scratched a line through STOP and wrote CUT DOWN ON just above it. Habits took time to break, he wasn't perfect.

Somewhere beyond his quarters, he sensed someone beginning to stir, the faintest whisper of conscious thought brushing against his mind. He didn't reach farther to see who it was. It didn't matter – soon enough, the whole crew would be roused from stasis, preparing for the next steps of their journey. And they'd be looking to their captain for guidance. MR-SN sighed, letting out a hiss of steam. He was fine. Everything was fine. He wouldn't let such a foolish reverie get in his way. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it right. He dropped his list back onto the desk and grabbed his cape from its place hanging by the door. Fastening the brilliant green fabric around his shoulders, he steeled his nerves one more time, then strode out onto the deck of the Per Aspera. 

He left his feelings behind in the captain's quarters, and there they'd remain.

Notes:

You know I'm Very Ace because I couldn't write more than 10 words at a time before getting flustered myself lol
Was this whole thing out of character? Probably. But to be fair, I'm both sick and very out of practice with writing. We can chalk it up to dream logic or something.
Also, Dream MR-SN may be exploiting a pretty clear power imbalance, but at least he asked for clear consent first. He’s not a *total* asshole about it lol