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"Can you explain why you want that?"

Caine looks at her with mute frustration. Jupiter sighs and leans up to press a fond kiss to his lips.

"I'm worried that this is about worth?" she says after a moment, slowly, like she's finding the words as she goes. "That you don't think you're worthy of being on the same level as me. And enjoying the words 'Your Majesty' aside, that's going to.. make for a really difficult relationship."

He wraps his arms around her, seeking closeness while he's failing to articulate what she wants to hear. It's still hard to process that she really does see him as being on the same level with her. It goes against a lifetime of ingrained hierarchies.

"I enjoy the Your Majesty thing and I think I'd enjoy the telling you what to do in bed thing," she continues, cheek resting on his shoulder, "but only if I know you want to do it because you enjoy it. Not because you think it's the only way I'll like you or want you. Not if you do it because you don't think it could be different, that things are just supposed to be that way."

Oh. Oh.

Caine needs a moment to process that, because the idea that she can't enjoy it if she doesn't know for sure he enjoys it is honestly so new that maybe she's right to question him. He presses his nose against her hair and inhales deeply.

"I like sitting at your feet," he murmurs finally. "It makes me feel.. calm..."

Jupiter makes an encouraging sound. Her hand is on his side, just resting there, and he suspects she is keeping still so she doesn't distract him.

"Like nothing is.. expected of me in that moment?" he struggles, biting down on the urge to apologise for presuming. He already knows how that will go. "That if you want me to do something you will tell me, and if you don't, I can just.. be."

He feels her smile against the side of his neck, and then she shifts to kiss the raised mark on his skin there. He shivers a little.

"I'm pleased that you really thought about it," she says, and he knows that she means 'I'm pleased you didn't just tell me what you think I want to hear'.

"Your majesty knows how much I like to please her," he breathes into her ear, smiling when she shivers. If pleasing her means thinking really hard about what he likes and why, then he will do so.

"Very well then.. you may sit at my feet."

He kisses her cheek before he lets himself slide off the sofa. There's a plush rug on the wooden floor that he may or may not have put there in hopes that he would occasionally be sitting on it, and he shifts a bit, trying to find a position that allows for maximum contact and comfort.

Jupiter spreads her knees so he can lean against the sofa between her legs, and he tips back his head, looking at her upside-down to check she is comfortable.

It makes her smile, and puts her datapad aside for a moment to bend forward and press a kiss to his forehead. He feels a fond hand trailing through his hair for a moment as she goes back to her reading, and his eyes slide shut.

He is engrossed in his own reading a little while later when she shifts behind him, and he looks up at her, checking if she needs anything. Her cup is still mostly full though, and all she does is shift her legs until her knees are hooked over his shoulders, her lower legs pressed into his chest, her ankles casually crossed.

The pressure, the warm weight of it, does something with him. Claimed. Anchored. Safe. He's never felt so completely hers as he does now, and he drops his datapad on the rug, melting under her touch.

"All right?" she asks

Words are a little beyond him right now, his brain idling in a blissfully content state. He cups one of her tiny, delicate feet in his hand, a warm contact he knows she likes, and hopes she understands.

"Caine? Use your words, please."

His lips quirk up into a small smile, because he should have known to expect that. He tilts his head back to rest on her thighs, until he can see her face from his upside-down position. She's looking at him with the eyebrows that mean she's still expecting an answer, and he makes a vague gesture with his free hand.

"Yours," he finally manages. "So good.."

Her smile is luminous, and her free hand settles on his head, rubbing little circles into his scalp. A low, content rumble escapes from deep in his throat as he floats.

Hers.