“What are you doing here?!”
Captain Alcibiades of the fucking Glendarrow was very tired and very much in need of sleep, so saying he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the surprise in his bed was an understatement. Of all the surprises he'd had that day, this one had to be the least pleasant one. Caius was supposed to be safe, at home - not here.
“I thought I’d keep you company, dear,” Caius answered. “These beds aren’t exactly comfortable, are they? I must bring the silk sheets next time. Perhaps a few decorations to liven up the place -”
“How did you get onto the ship?” Alcibiades asked, closing the door now. Much as he wanted to oust Caius from the bed - and the cabin and the ship - and put him on the first shuttle back to Volstov, he was too tired to deal with the situation. Quiet resignation had become a standard as of late, whenever dealing with this particular Greylace. “The biometric scanners ought to have kept you out.”
“Oh, that was hardly difficult.” Caius shrugged dismissively. “Are you coming to bed? I shall be very put out if you don’t; I’ve warmed it for you. And I brought your favourite pyjamas.”
Alcibiades’ favourite pyjamas had indeed been laid out on the single chair in the room. What was more, Caius had apparently succeeded in hauling four large suitcases on board in addition to himself without anybody protesting.
Not for the first time, Alcibiades wondered if Caius possessed supernatural abilities that just let him get away with things. Something wholly unrelated to his velikaia abilities - something far more witchy and scary.
Seriously, it was uncanny.
“Well?” Caius demanded.
“You can’t stay,” Alcibiades informed him, knowing full well that Caius would very much be staying. No force in the universe could possibly keep him from getting what he wanted, a fact that Alcibiades had learned, and re-learned, and was now apparently getting the lesson hammered home quite spectacularly.
“Of course I’ll be staying,” Caius said, matter of factly, swinging his legs out of the bed and sitting up. “Al, dearest. Come over here. I’ll help you with your buttons. I don’t understand why they insist on so many buttons, there must be at least three hundred. They are very pretty,” he added as an afterthought.
“Three hundred and four,” Alcibiades said stepping closer and letting Caius help with the buttons. His small and deft fingers would make a quicker job of undoing them, he reasoned.
“Now that’s just plain silly.”
“Of that we are in agreement.”
Caius looked up from under his lashes, his one good eye twinkling with amusement. "I do so love it when you agree with me, dear. Tomorrow we'll see about decorating."
Alcibiades' jacket fell open, the buttons nimbly undone. He shrugged out of it and let it fall to the floor, ignoring the little tsk-noises Caius was making. "I thought we'd agreed you'd stay in Volstov," he said.
"I thought we'd agreed I'd come when you needed me," Caius replied. His hands had done a quick job of the rest of Alcibiades' clothing, and were now nudging him into bed. "I'll give you a head massage. You look like you need it. Honestly, Al, would you actually take care of yourself if I weren't around?"
"Of course," he grunted. Caius had already applied his fingers to his skull and was massaging gently. "Maybe," he amended. He was already feeling a smidgen more relaxed. "Tomorrow we'll see about getting you proper papers and permissions," he said.
It was as much of an admission as Caius was going to get, and he knew it if the satisfied noises were anything to go by.
"And after that, decorating," Caius told him, his voice warm and soft.
Alcibiades could fall asleep like this. He didn't reply, just let out a little sigh and a grunt in the affirmative. If Caius wanted to decorate, he wasn't going to stop him.
Caius let his hands drop to Alcibiades' shoulders and squeezed gently. "I knew you'd see reason."