@charmingbrute
As soon as he'd stepped across that threshold, Safiri was no longer the Warrior of Light. He wasn't the Eikon Slayer, the Liberator of Doma or the Hero of Eorzea (though Maru was inclined to let him keep the title of Stealer of Pants).
He was just Safiri.
And every single time the man was free of his armour, regardless of the state of him, Maru would wind his arms around him, press his nose into Firi's neck and just hold on for a long moment. Sometimes his lover's arms would wind around him in return. Sometimes they'd remain at his sides. Sometimes he'd feel the Hyur lean into the embrace and press his nose into soft white hair.
None of that changed even when Maru refused to be left behind again. Even though the Miqo'te was right by his side come hell or high water, the ritual remained the same.
He worried about it being overbearing. He worried that Firi wanted to strip away his armour under his own power but by the gods did Maru need to touch him. He needed to feel Firi's warmth and strength beneath his hands every moment of every damn day to know he was still there, still whole.
And he was again, though Maru cupped his cheeks and pulled him down to press his lips to a shallow scrape across the brunet's cheekbone.
He wasn't allowed to part from the Hyur afterwards either, because Safiri's hands rose to mirror the grip and their lips met in a gentle kiss. A thankyou, an assurance, an apology all rolled into one.
Maru pressed closer, made a soft noise into the kiss and had to remind himself that Firi was not a tree to be climbed as soon as his armour was off. Restraint was not entirely his forté when it came to Safiri though and he deepened the kiss, sliding a hand into short brunet hair as he did.
Barely out of his armour (and Maru was still in his gear) and the Miqo'te couldn't get enough of him.
Firi was his.
He might have to share the man with the rest of the world but there, with the closed door between them and the world beyond, Safiri was his. And he was going to make the most of every second they had together.
Breaking the kiss for air, the temptation was there to go in for another but in a remarkable display of self control, Maru held himself back, lowered his hands to Firi's chest and pressed gently.
"I want you," he admitted softly, despite it being nothing really out of the ordinary. "But more than that, I want you to stop apologising. You've nothing - nothing - to apologise for.
"I chose this. I chose you."
