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“Truth or dare?” Eli echoes, startled. It is, to say the least, one of the last ways he would have expected their daily briefing to begin. Truth be told, he would have sooner expected the Admiral to ask him to desert the Empire and run away with him than for an explanation of a game Eli would frankly rather forget even exists. “It’s—well—it’s a game, mostly one that’s played in turns at parties. If I were to ask you truth or dare, then depending on which you pick, I would either get to ask you a question or dare you to do something. If you refused to answer honestly or to complete the dare, you’d lose.”
“Very well,” Thrawn says thoughtfully, watching him in that attentive way that always seems to send Eli’s heart stumbling around in his chest. “I choose to accept a dare from you, Commander.”
For a moment, Eli thinks about pointing out that they are not actually playing the stars-damned game, because he certainly hadn’t signed up for this when he joined the Imperial Navy. But Thrawn’s hands are folded neatly on his desk in anticipation, and when it comes right down to it, Eil just doesn’t have the heart to do it.
Apparently they are playing truth or dare. Eli makes a mental note to track down whoever was foolish enough to mention it in Thrawn’s hearing. He’s pretty sure they could use a few hours on scrub duty.
Though actually, come to think of it, maybe Eli can still find a way to turn this to his advantage. Thrawn’s never been exactly forthcoming about himself, after all, and Eli has always been curious just how far his reticence goes.
A plan of action begins to weave itself in his mind. Eli thinks—hopes—that Thrawn would be proud.
He sits back casually in his chair, datapad forgotten for the time being on Thrawn’s desk. “Just so you know,” he says, watching Thrawn’s face closely for a reaction, “when it’s really obvious that someone doesn’t want to pick truth, it’s not unheard of to dare them to answer a question.”
Thrawn doesn’t so much as blink, just frowns in that way that means he’s fascinated. “Ah. So it is a game of strategy, then.”
“No, not rea—” Eli stops, thinks. Considers all the ways Thrawn could possibly find to turn such a game to his advantage. Contemplates arguing that it’s politics, actually, and nothing to do with battle tactics. Sighs, because he suddenly has a very bad feeling about this. “Yeah, I guess.”
One day, Eli tells himself, he’s going to figure out how he gets himself into these situations.
(The answer, he knows, will simply be Thrawn. Eli’s so gone that he’d almost find it charming if the Admiral wasn’t so much of a bastard about it.)
(Who’s he kidding. He finds it a little charming anyway.)
“Excellent.” Thrawn smiles, sharp and content. “What else might be typically demanded as a dare, Commander?”
Eli winces. “Something socially awkward or humiliating, usually. Singing, dancing. Revealing the history on your datapad. A kiss.”
He regrets that last the instant Thrawn’s eyes latch onto his automatic blush, so hot and so sudden Eli feels like the entire ship might go up in flames. Actually, he regrets it even as he’s saying it, slow horror rising in his gut as if he’s watching an explosion from somewhere too far out to render assistance.
He thinks it’s entirely possible, in point of fact, that he’s spent his entire life until this very moment regretting it in advance, and he’s certain he’s about to regret it until the moment he literally dies of embarrassment.
Because somehow, he’s absolutely certain that Thrawn has managed to read his mind—to read in those two words every heated fantasy Eli has ever had of these meetings going very, very differently, of fervent but careful declarations of want and that smart mouth firm against his.
Thrawn watches him for a moment, considering. “It distresses you to consider demanding a kiss,” he finally says, his voice curious.
Eli shrugs, shoulders moving beneath his burning face, and wonders if Thrawn would approve his request for a transfer. “Yeah, well,” he says instead, grasping for the first true thing he can find; he’s sure Thrawn will see through anything less. “When there’s someone I want to kiss, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if they only kissed me to win a game.”
Thrawn nods, slow and sure, as if the galaxy has suddenly been made clear to him. “I see. Then to be safe, I will instead select truth to begin. The truth is, Eli, that I do in fact wish to kiss you,” he says seriously, and then, before Eli can even begin to pick his jaw up off the floor: “And now, if you please, I will choose dare.”
