hey, i’m liking your photos at 2am because i want to make out. i’m texting you at noon because i want to make out. i woke up today because i (we don’t need words)
obviously there's no way i could do anything but gregor/by a la alternative approaches. This is post CVA. i'm still accepting prompts here.
Also admittedly I did what I often refer to as "started too early" when writing this, but I just enjoyed it so much you can have everything too early. 2200 words, rated M.
---
Gregor was still, of course. He was standing in the spaceport gate, various guards and security fanned out around him, the quiet mumble of logistics happening. He usually benefited from paying attention to it, but it was even harder than usual. His heart hammered. His fingers twitched behind his back. He breathed, trying to center himself, envisioning himself as the lodestone of the Empire. The serenade of hissing and clunking and hydraulics met his ears as the shuttle landed. More guards and security and attendants. He was as steady as ever.
Habit, by now, that the more turmoil he felt the less he would show. Nausea twisted in his stomach, his thoughts wandering. The holo was always so unflattering to By (Ambassador Vorrutyer), taking all the color out of his face, softening the angle of his jaw. It failed to display the glitter of chaos in his eye. It flattened his dark curls. Not to mention that, obviously, nothing of anything could ever be spoken of via holo. Too many hands and too many dangers. Not to mention that when he'd sent By to Jackson's Whole he'd sent him with the Cordonah Jewel he'd cared about. Lapis Lazuli. Rish.
It wasn't fair to have By half-tangled up with him (and Laisa), if he wanted a person he could actually get married to, maybe have children. Maybe have a normal relationship. Maybe be able to tell someone. Maybe be able to walk through the front door and kiss. Gregor wasn't stupid. He read the reports and what they said about By and Rish. If that was what By wanted, Gregor could make that happen.
Maybe just see if this is what you want, he'd said to By, before he'd sent him to the Whole, and Ivan and his new wife (!) to Ylla, and Alys and Simon just away.
It hadn't been so hard, actually, now that By had taught him about what he was, how it worked, given him all those fantasies to draw upon. He had voyeured at Vorsades, sometimes, when he needed something real. Taking up kickboxing had helped. The armsmen had to try to make it look like they weren't letting him win, these days.
The shuttleport door opened. There was an assortment of flunkies and staff and then shining between them was Ambassador Byerly Vorrutyer. His By.
By was grinning his smug Vorrutyer grin. By was radiant, face sharp, eyes glittering, curls dark and framing his face. He was wearing a green suit - Dress Greens But Make It Vorrutyer - with a checkered pocketsquare and his tie splashing color down his front. He was thinner than when he'd left - not as thin as when he'd gotten out of the hospital, certainly, but lean.
Gregor wanted to grab his tie and pull him close and make his lips bleed with how hard he kissed him.
And no Lapis Lazuli?
No, there were Jacksonians getting off the shuttle - one next to By, the new ambassador, Pidge's husband, in fact, who caught Gregor's eye and gave him a nod of great respect - but Lapis Lazuli was very distinctive and she was nowhere to be found.
Gregor tended not to believe in hope. He was a believer in preparation and contingency plans and training. He had a belief in politics and military strategy and patience. He could do blackmail or diplomacy or favors. He tended to leave hope for other people.
Oh god, he hoped.
As if By had not missed a beat he and the ambassador next to him took several lanky steps towards Gregor and knelt, easy and practiced. A mean little voice under Gregor's ear said pull his hair. God he would have liked to, taken those long curls in his fingers, watch By's mouth open, his eyes roll back into his head, the choked noise he'd make. Gregor ignored that voice and that vision.
"Welcome back, Ambassador Vorrutyer," he said, instead.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," By said, and oh, that voice, the smooth promise of it. He almost wished Laisa was here, just to say something less stiff. "It is a great pleasure to be back."
Gregor made a gesture and By and the Jacksonian stood. He looked at the stranger, and By said, "May I introduce Mateo Gave Leonardo ve Paloma Arqua. As I went to establish relationships on Jackson's Whole, so House Cordonah has gifted the Imperium with one of their family to do the same."
The reports, Gregor remembered, had all been professionally awestruck that Byerly Vorrutyer, of all people, could stand up a capable diplomatic arm on such a mercenary planet. Idiots, Gregor had wanted to snap at them, Don't you know what this man is capable of?! He hadn't, of course.
"A pleasure," he paused, "Ambassador ve Paloma Arqua. My men can have you settled comfortably within the Imperial Residence, or should you so choose we are happy to provide housing within the city." It was always interesting what ambassadors chose.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," said the ambassador, leaving Gregor with By in the shuttleport amidst all the guards. The armsmen all knew, of course. By the time By had left more of the Residence had known.
"Come, Ambassador," Gregor said.
"Always by your leave, Sire," By said, and winked at him.
He thought it was possible he had never hoped like this.
------
Gregor had gotten to separating his meetings into various groups of terrible: some syncopating, some who liked the sound of their own voice, some who were trying to do treason but they were too bad at it for him to take action, some who were truly out to enrich their coffers at the expense of the people, etc, etc. It was useful to know going into the meetings, and Alrick and the rest of the secretaries had taken to color-coding his meetings based on what they thought each meeting might be.
He was going to need a new color for having to sit, nodding in agreement, listening to By in his perfect green suit talking in great and elaborate detail just how well Barrayaran interests were represented in the Whole. Being the Emperor involved all sorts of creative and elaborate tortures. He was spared from all the terrible normal ones like hunger or being unhoused and in exchange they had come up with the various fresh hells his life entailed occasionally. This was surely one, By explaining the results of his six years on the Whole, and all the while a unique and wonderful and terrible symphony of invasive thoughts in Gregor's head commented on By's face, his shoulders, his long fingers, his wonderful lips, his sublime eyes. Gregor noticed By had gotten his weaker hand fixed and the scar on his wrist wiped away.
Naturally everyone had lots of questions for By. Gregor did not ask any of his most pressing questions, like why are you still dressed, or did you miss me, or what happened to Rish, or can I have you back now? Do you want me back now? Will you return to the hassle that was me? Us?
After an insurmountable number of hours there was quiet, and some of the meeting attendees left, and others were filing out. Gregor kept their bodies carefully apart, but he walked closer. He was aware he was hoping, knew hope was stupid, and said, "Do you already have housing in the city, Ambassador Vorrutyer? Will you be staying at Vorrutyer House?"
"If I could ask a boon of you, Your Majesty," By said, "That I might stay in the Residence until my housing situation is sorted." He glanced down at his lectern, pages and pages of notes in script so nightmarish only By could read. "Only for me, so I so sincerely hope that will not be a burden."
Only for me rang Gregor's head. No anyone else. Only for him.
"Of course, Ambassador," Gregor's mouth said, which was good, and he was grateful that his body and mind could move independently when it served the whole. The faint ringing in his ears continued. And would continue, Gregor was sure, through the dinner with Ambassador ve Paloma Arqua, and a celebratory reception for him, and By would be there, laughing, lean and beautiful and sharp and staying in the Residence.
-----
He had been in bed, Laisa warm and mumbling and sleeping in his arms, when his wristcomm beeped. Three beeps. Not an emergency.
Who was calling him at 0200 that wasn’t an emergency?
He was asleep before he got an answer.
—
The next day at lunch his wristcomm beeped again. He was listening, for some definition of listening, to Count Vorbohn discuss budget shortfalls in the Vorbarr Sultana Municipal Guard. Gregor had previously gone over the Guard budget with Guy, who had run ImpSec Komarr and thus was quite aware of how Solstice Municipal Guard had gone. Guy had had a lot of questions he thought Gregor should ask. Now, sure Solstice and Vorbarr Sultana were different; still, but it was good to have guidelines. Count Vorbohn had not given Gregor answers he thought were satisfactory; he would review the whole conversation with Guy later.
He looked down at the lights on the wristcomm and Count Vorbohn stopped talking. Three beeps again, not an emergency.
“Excuse me,” he said, politely, and went into the little private office behind the conference room, “Vorbarra.”
“Sire,” came Mannick’s voice in his earpiece, responsible for his line, “It’s the outlet.”
Guy had rather crudely called By this very early in their relationship, even before By had known it was him. The codename stuck.
“Oh,” Gregor said. He opened the door back to the main room, “I’m sorry, Count Vorbohn, but I have to take this. If you need more time, please reschedule with my man.” He didn’t really need to listen to Vorbohn beg to fuck with the budget anymore.
He closed the door again and went back to the wristcomm.
“Put him through.” The sound of the line connecting. “Yes?”
“Just sending you a message because I’m thinking about you.” By was too smart to say his name, but Gregor knew his voice in his ear, and …… he knew that voice, breathy with want, deep inhales and exhales, a little gasp. “Thinking very hard about you. So hard. Harder than I’ve been in six years.”
“It’s the middle of the day,” Gregor said.
“Yes. And I’m thinking about you in the middle of the day. Very deeply. Very deeply. So deep I can taste it.”
He wanted to say By, hard and hot, a hiss in his teeth. No, unwise. He didn’t.
He said, “You’re acting unwisely and there might be consequences.”
“Hgn,” By said, a moan, “I would hope you swear that by your name.”
Gregor hung up on him. He could feel his heart rabbit-fast in his chest and his skin tight under his undershirt. Oh, how could he have forgotten the boiling heat. Oh, he loved Laisa, and she did not make him feel like this.
No. He steadied himself against it, just as he could do against anything else. First there was the meeting about airspace appropriation guidelines. After that there was going to be a long, painful meeting about veteran healthcare. When he was done with that there was a presentation about the decision to begin a committee on whether they should try to start on ocean purification efforts.
But By was staying in the palace, and Gregor was patient. He didn’t need hope.
—
What Gregor had had put in the notes about the meeting was there had been a rousing and spirited debate about the ocean purification committee. The tidy group of executives had obviously not expected a fight from anyone about anything. Thus they had been wildly unprepared for the ecologists - Gregor was delighted to see only one of them was wearing anything termed by the etiquette guides as ‘suitable for the Imperial Presence’ - and the shouting match that followed. A hat had been thrown.
He also made a note to reach out to retired Admiral Jole about the whole thing. Cordelia always passed along some fun new Sergyar facts from him in her messages.
“Alrick,” he said, “Can you invite Ambassador Vorrutyer to my kickboxing session?”
Alrick’s eyebrows lifted. He knew, of course. He said, “Yes, sire. Still in the exercise facility?”
Actually he wanted it in their bedroom with all their equipment. That seemed out of the question. Too far away, and what if something came up while he was in the middle of flogging By? He restrained that. Thought for a moment.
“Yes.” There were benches. And mirrors. That matter assigned, he enlisted Mannick to loop the cameras, and to tell By that, and then he went to dinner.
–
When By met his eyes in the gym that night he walked immediately to the bench, sat down in the middle of it, and took his shirt off. His chest was unblemished and pale, a canvas for Gregor’s teeth and nails and tools. Like his wrist, his stomach and arms were entirely free of the scars left by his actions years ago.
In their first meetings he hadn’t had to speak and he certainly didn’t need to now.
posting extremely-draft backstory about minor characters in alternative approaches: alexander brecca (the armsman by meets at the end of the
Today's alternative approaches posting: extremely-draft backstory of armsman brecca, who we meet in the latter half of the story. I have no idea why it's in the wrong font?
other fun brecca facts: he has a great relationship with his mom and talks to her almost every day. his mother owns a pottery shop; his dad works in insurance.
🧭 What was the key choice or decision you had to make for this story? If you had chosen differently, what would the story have turned into?
The key question for me is: Who is the Chief of ImpSec?
Here's the thing: Illyan is going to get a lot more involved in this, a lot faster, if he was running the show. If Illyan is ImpSec Chief and it comes to his attention that Gregor is doing bdsm with Ges Vorrutyer's nephew, he's going to get annoying about it very quickly. Even if Laisa is OK with it! And obviously he doesn't necessarily have the power to get Gregor to stop, but the amount of interceding and passive-aggressive commentary that would be generated from Simon would just be enormous. He could assign By to some job off-planet to get him out of Vorbarr Sultana! And Gregor would be furious, of course, and maybe he would even demand Simon resign? God, you think there's offscreen drama in this version of the story. The amount of Gregor vs Simon conflict in a pre-Memory version of this story is absolutely unreal.
So, this story only works if Guy is ImpSec Chief, because Guy (i think) is probably going to be a lot more traditional in approach to his job. He does not have personal issues with Ges. He does not have the same twisted family vibe around Gregor than Simon does. He has not been paying attention to Gregor since he was five years old, and you know what, probably before that too! Guy is probably going to say this is a bad idea, but clearly Gregor is into it, and Gregor's his boss, so he's .... against his better judgement, going to do his job and support his boss in his wants!
To say nothing, by the way, of what Aral would be doing if Aral heard/saw this evolving. (Could Simon even keep it from him? Could Aral sniff it out? Would Simon tell him?) Whatever post-TWA repairing of Gregor and Aral's relationship has occurred? One can imagine it all just entirely fucking unraveling. It would be so sad honestly! Aral would NOT handle this appropriately. Would Aral just make him feel so bad and so self-hatred that Gregor ends the relationship himself? Is that Aral's goal? God this is bad.
Cordelia would also not like these vibes. I think, though, seeing how emotionally meaningful this is for Gregor, she would try to accept it. She would, however, make sure Gregor had a safeword.
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