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Gentle, hot hands remove the leather straps from his wrist. A constant stream of Cheunh washes over him, only half the words understandable to him. Beloved. Beautiful. Perfect. That smooth voice, so often used to drive him crazy with desire, now soothes him, helps him move out of that quiet place of his mind back into the warm afterglow of their encounter.
It'd started off innocently enough. After that..incident...with the Noghri, Thrawn had wanted to make sure Pellaeon could take over from him. Every night, he'd walk to Thrawn's quarters, sit at the desk with him and get drilled on strategies, the psychology of various alien species (Thrawn had never quite given up on trying to teach Pellaeon to read art), and any developments within the fleet.
Now, as he stretches out on the bed, sated and completely relaxed, he can't recall when these encounters had started to get an undertone of something more.
Maybe it'd been the occasional, accidental brushing of their hands as they reached for the same star map (though did Thrawn ever do things without a specific goal?). Or perhaps it was that night he'd seen a smile on that normally so hard face, when Thrawn talked about the hot springs on his home world. He'd found himself wanting to see that smile again, wanting to let himself get lost in those eyes.
Thrawn's skilled hands are rubbing his wrists now. Red eyes looking at him, making sure he is comfortable. Their play had been intense, as always. It still made Pellaeon blush sometimes, thinking back of what he'd done, just how submissive the Chiss made him. Making him beg to be used, to be taken, to be made fully his. Still whispering terms of endearment, Thrawn kisses his wrists, his hands, every finger. He is always like this, afterwards, kind and caring, and red eyes no longer hiding what he feels inside. Pellaeon sees the love in them, the gentleness and protectiveness Thrawn never shows outside this room.
Their first kiss was something he wasn't bound to forget. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. He'd gone out on a whim and kissed those blue lips, knowing it might cost him his career but pent up after all this underlying tension. He certainly hadn't expected the Grand Admiral to actually growl and pin him against the wall, kissing him back with more passion than Pellaeon had ever suspected him capable of. He'd found out the Admiral was indeed stronger than a human and he'd also found out he quite enjoyed being manhandled by Thrawn.
Thrawn's lips brush his forehead as he's gathered up in strong arms. If anyone had told him Grand Admiral Thrawn took his cuddling very seriously, he'd have laughed. Now though, it's his favourite part of this aftercare. Thrawn lazily strokes his back, humming as he goes ("I do not purr, Gilad"). His body is just slightly warmer than a human's and it keeps the chill of a ship in space away. His heartbeat is a familiar and comforting rhytmn under Pellaeon's ear -- after the incident, even more so.
They'd kept on meeting to discuss strategies, but usually they put their mouths to better use. Pellaeon found out that yes, that command chair would hold two people and yes, there was a being with intense feelings hiding under that always so calm, collected face.
Thrawn's fingers rub circles across his back as his arms tighten around the human. Pellaeon nuzzles the smooth, blue chest. He's relaxed, happy to forget about the complications of command and focus on what they have between the two of them.
It had actually been his friend Maximilian Veers who'd figured it out the fastest. As they had dinner in the mess one night, he'd casually leaned over the table and asked him if the Grand Admiral kept the poker face on during sex and if he was very alien all the way or not. As Pellaeon choked on his soup, Max had given him a far too knowing grin...and two thumbs up.
He strokes Thrawn's stomach absentmindedly as he considers how normal and right this feels, now. Though he never did tell Max the details, he feels at home and at ease in Thrawn's arms. He feels comfortable with how quickly they've fallen into step in all aspects of their relationship -- professional and personal -- now that the tension that was between them is gone. He listens to Thrawn's breathing evening out, rasping slightly as he slips into deeper sleep ("Chiss do not snore, Gilad!").
He can't help but smile, because for such an unlikely pair, they fit together so well.