#mylesagen

[blackkatmagic]

for the game! Identity Porn and agen kolar :)

happy new year to you and yours, hope 2025 is kind to you!

This is a targeted attack against me personally, how dare.

heaven-hued

[blackkatmagic]

I wish you'd write a fic in which for once Myles is the one who gets to give Jaster grey hair! I feel for him lol.

“I cannot believe you,” Jaster says, muffled where his face is buried in his hands. “One week of leave and this—this—this is how you come back?”

Myles weighs whether he should be ashamed of himself, considers that last time Jaster got himself kidnapped because he pissed off a culty group of guardians around an ancient shrine, and promptly decides he regrets nothing. “I was only the Sith Emperor for three days before true love’s kiss broke the spell, it was fine.”

“Fine,” Jaster repeats, pained, and raises his head, leveling an incredulous look at Myles. There’s possibly more grey in his hair than there was a week ago. Myles should likely feel bad about that. He doesn’t. “Fine. Myles, you conquered a planet.”

“It was a small planet,” Myles defends. “Practically a moon.”

“You raised a fleet of Sith ghosts.”

“Revan was a lot politer than the stories say,” Myles says mildly, and only partially for the way Jaster practically twitches at that, his desire to shake Myles down for every single detail warring with his need to yell. With great amusement, Myles watches his jaw twitch, the vein in is forehead throb, and doesn’t grin, but—it takes more self-control than anything has in a very long time.

“You,” Jaster manages after a long moment of struggling with himself, “raised a fleet of Sith ghosts, took over a planet, threatened the Republic into handing over a Jedi, and then married him.”

Said Jedi, leaning back against the wall and looking entirely unbothered by this whole thing, raises a brow but doesn’t comment.

“That’s slightly out of order,” Myles says, and it’s kind of a defense. “We met before the Sith…incident. On my first night of leave. And Agen realized what was going on and broke the spell eventually.”

Jaster closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Myles is intimately familiar with that expression and the headache it’s meant to ward off, mostly because his beloved Mand’alor inflicts it on him frequently, and he tries hard not to let his smile slip into a smirk.

“But not before, of course, you gave every corner of the holonet enough material to sustain the one-credit romance novel industry for the next decade.”

“I've been informed that some of the offerings that have already come out are surprisingly decent,” Agen says, and Myles is going to kiss his husband square on the mouth.

As soon as they’re out of the office, maybe. If he tries it right now, Jaster's head might explode, and that would defeat the purpose of torturing him with this for the rest of his natural life.

Jaster stares, blank-faced, at Agen, like he expected nothing but still had his hopes crushed regardless.

Myles doesn’t laugh in his Mand’alor’s face, because it’s much more fun to laugh behind his back. “Revan said he’d visit after the honeymoon,” he says, perfectly mild. “And Agen knows that Jedi you were making eyes at—”

“Mace Windu, my lineage brother,” Agen puts in dutifully.

“I was not making eyes at him,” Jaster says, all deep offense and indignation, like Myles can't see him grab for a stylus and scribble the name down on the edge of a pad. “And I am not giving you time off for a honeymoon. In fact, I don’t think I'm ever going to give you so much as a single solitary day off ever again, if this is what happened after one week of vacation—”

Myles rolls his eyes. “I'm taking my husband back to our rooms,” he says, pointed, right over top of Jaster. “And you are not going to bother us for at least three days, or I’ll tell Arla that you chased off her first girlfriend.”

Jaster's face leeches of color. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try it and see,” Myles says, unwavering, and steps back. when he offers an arm, Agen takes it delicately, practically radiating amusement, and Myles smirks back at him, then turns precisely and leads him out the door.

The last thing he hears from inside is Jaster's long, despairing, heartfelt groan.

[On AO3]