Arik did not move.
The comm rang a third time.
Liam's smile grew despite the fact that Arik still had one hand at his waist and the other tangled loosely near his hair and that the entire chamber smelled like warm temple stone, caramel, saint's breath, and bad decisions delayed by technology.
"That," Liam repeated, "sounds important."
Arik opened his eyes.
The look he gave Liam should have been illegal in several diplomatic jurisdictions.
"It is Noah," he said.
Liam blinked. "You know that from the sound?"
"No. I know that because fate has a tedious sense of humor."
The comm rang again.
Arik exhaled slowly through his nose and lifted one hand from Liam's waist, though the movement seemed to offend him on a spiritual level. He did not step away. He stayed between Liam's knees, close enough that Liam could still feel the heat of him through the thin space left between their bodies.
