garrulously | duv wants to be in the room where it happens

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duv wants to be in the room where it happens

Captain Ivan Xav Vorpatril is here, according to his superior officers, because he’s Ops and he knows Duv Galeni. He’s helping ease the transition of the new Imperial Counselor, working as the liaison between Galeni and Solstice’s Ops outpost officially — which means, in actuality, he’s there to smooth upset Barrayarans and Komarrans alike. The ruffled feathers he expected, and the thinly veiled threats are traditional, but on Komarr it actually has a chance of degrading into violence.

It boils down to a lot of parties and a lot of paperwork, one of which Ivan takes to easily and the other probably reminds Imperial Counselor of time spent on Earth over a decade ago. But Ivan does his job to average standards in everything but the social aspect of it. There his skills and talents don’t go wanting. With women and men, after Ivan’s enlightening experience at Count Dono Vorrutyer’s skilled hand. Again.

This night, however, has him staring at Duv Galeni over a glass of wine. He’s, what? Forty something and still unwed despite his new high-ranking position. Ivan thinks about what he told Miles — that he didn’t think Duv Galeni was one of those men, interested in other men. Well he’d been wrong about himself back then, hadn’t he? And either they’d somehow gotten a much stronger wine than Ivan had thought, or he’s seriously considering flirting with Duv Galeni just to see.

He’s on Komarr, Ivan reasons with himself, it’s not going to be as public of a scandal as if they’d been doing this on Barrayar. Imperial Counselor Galeni or no. Finishing off his glass, Ivan turns up the grin and hands it off to a server before making his way to Duv.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Nailed it.

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So the plan is this: get Duv out of his office for an afternoon, and actually manage to do something with it. He's had it penciled in as office remodel so Duv can expect something instead of accusing Ivan of springing it on him. It'll help, he's sure, both Duv and whoever else is coming in to speak with him.

A boring light grey for the walls to match the dark wood of the desk and chair Duv already has -- Ivan leaves those -- and a new bookshelf for his book discs. A couch, of course, and then non-overhead lighting that cast a more welcoming light over the area as well as better for reading on the couch. Two chairs in front of the desk, and Ivan thinks it finally looks like something you could invite people into.

He's about to start hanging the photographs from the Solstice historical society he had prints made out of what is supposed to be nice, historical scenes from both pre-Barrayar and post-Barrayar Komarr -- non-offensive, of course, he checked -- when he hears the door open.

Right, ok, time to defend his choices.

"Good afternoon, Duv."

When Ivan had claimed an entire afternoon for 'remodeling,' Duv had thought he was joking. One look at Ivan's face had quickly told him that no, this was not a joke and yes, he had better find some reason or another to be out of the office that day.

So Duv schedules an Imperial tour of one of the terraforming facilities. It's been on his agenda since he touched down and officially took the office and now was as good a time as any to make his appearance. Without any real warning, of course. He wanted to see a typical workday with as little notice as possible to get a better feel for how they actually ran things on their current budget. With all the money the Imperium pours into the project and the hope of Komarr's future riding on it, this isn't going to be pushed off to the wayside.

Which means his afternoon is thoroughly filled with tours and meetings keeping him safely out of Ivan's hair. Duv doesn't even have time to return to the office by the end of it all and he hauls himself to bed with the dreadful thought of how many reports he needs to write up of his impressions and findings.

When Duv heads into his office, his mind is already compiling his to-do list for the day and his hand instinctively goes towards the light switch to flip the overhead light on. Except there's another light already on in the room. And there's a person--no, Ivan--inside.

He blinks and stares. It hardly looks like his office anymore and he's not entirely sure how he feels about the change.

After a long pause he manages, "You changed the lights."

That's it? It's better than 'No this is awful, please change it back', but it isn't exactly a 'thank you Ivan for saving my office from looking terrible and putting a good foot forward for first impressions'. He pauses, one of the framed photographs in his hands.

"The overhead still works," Ivan offers, looking slightly like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He waits a second, but then can't help but ask. "So?"

Please at least don't hate it, he thinks, and then wonders when he decided he was going to care about Duv's opinion of his non-Ops related work.

No, he doesn't hate it. But the change is something he's still taking in. Was that...? He spots the Soletta Array model light first and heads for it, peering around the device to get a better look. Where in the devil had he found this?

The photographs catch his eye next and not only because Ivan happens to still be standing by them. He moves closer, almost not seeing the other man, as he's able to place each and every historical location pictured.

And Ivan had done all of this. For him.

Well. For the office of Imperial Counselor, Duv quickly corrects himself mentally. But the look of shock has changed to one of astonishment as he sees each detail that's been put into place with care. Duv can't remember the last time anyone has gone to this much effort for him.

"You did all of this?"

"M'mother believes in making sure that one's best foot is always put forward. For people with public offices, that includes the office itself." And no one is impressed by a boring one that had the air of 'I spend too many hours here and don't really care about it'. "I had help." People to get the things he wanted, someone to paint the walls. Things like that.

The change of expression is encouraging, or so Ivan hopes.

"I know you just mentioned the couch. It's comfortable, though, don't worry." He made sure of that, in case Duv really was going to fall asleep on it in the future.

"I..." He starts and abruptly closes his mouth. That logic is hard to argue with and Duv is seeing more and more why their Emperor sent Ivan along on this assignment.

He traces the edge of a frame holding the Solstice Massacre Memorial. The event doesn't hold any good memories for him, but it was important to remember what had happened and why they were doing this. He never wants to lose sight of that.

"Thank you," he finally says with a small smile. Somehow the words feel inadequate.

Out of all the possible responses, Ivan didn't expect Duv to actually smile at him. It's a nice smile, Ivan realizes, even if it's small, and he can't help but smile back at him -- wider, true, but not any less honest for it. He's glad, at least, that Duv doesn't mind that particular picture. Ivan had debated it, but had decided that it seemed disingenuous not to have it. His mother would have had something to say about being upfront, and Ivan had conceded that she was right about it. It was Komarran history, for better or worse. It was partly why this whole damned thing was so difficult.

Letting out a breath, Ivan gives Duv a short nod. "This time," Ivan jokes, "I am getting paid for it. Hand me that hammer, will you? These aren't going to hang themselves."

Absently he hands Ivan the hammer, still examining the various frames that are both on the wall and waiting to be added. He had an attention to detail that Duv had't realized before. Ivan wouldn't make such a bad fill-in for an ImpSec guard after all.

"Where did you find everything?" he asks. He's finding it hard to pull himself away to his desk full of work. "Do you have plaques for each piece?"

"Thanks," he says before wandering behind Duv's desk to hang up the frame in his hands, turning his back on the other man. "Just a flimsy with the details of each. Should I have gotten plaques?"

Ivan hadn't thought about that, mostly because he didn't think they needed them. He's not the historian here, however, so he'll gladly defer to Duv if he thinks so -- it is his office, after all. Even if it's one Ivan is trying to make less hellish and more enjoyable to be trapped in since the other man insists on working late still.

"Simple ones with date and location could be useful." The rest he would know himself and could easily fill in with interested guests. His gaze follows Ivan's movements before sighing and resigning himself to his desk.

He'd have to take another look around when he needed a moment to think, but for now he needs to start tackling his to-do list. He'd rather it not grow any longer while he stands around, ogling his new office space... and partially the man who's putting the finishing touches on it.

Is this a historian thing? Ivan's pretty sure it is. "I'll look into it," he says and doesn't argue -- he'll get someone to do that and leave them for Duv to put up wherever he wished. It takes him a little longer than he would have liked to finish hanging the rest, sneaking half-looks at Duv when he's working; it looks like he'd actually managed to get some sleep, which Ivan finds reassuring. But there's something studious about his academic intensity that Ivan doesn't remember finding attractive the last time the worked together. Or over the course of their friendship -- although that had been very specifically conducted to avoid situations where it came up.

Catching himself staring, Ivan blinks, coughs slightly, and goes back to straightening the last frame. "That's the last of them. You can switch 'em around if you don't like where they are."

He can feel Ivan's eyes on him and he's not sure if the man is trying to watch him or catch a glimpse of what he's working on. Either way, Duv doesn't dare look away from his comconsole screen. His time out yesterday afternoon had left his messages more than slight mess and he's busy dealing with the ones labeled 'high priority' by his assistant when Ivan announces his task completed.

Which Duv would have thought was a good thing if he hadn't immediately frowned at the thought of Ivan leaving his office. That small bit of company had been nice, but surely Ivan had better things to do than redecorate his CO's office.

"Thank you, Captain. I think where they are now will more than suffice," he says, tone carefully neutral, as he glances behind him at Ivan.

He, unfortunately, does. "Sir," Ivan departs with a proper salute at his dismissal -- finding the reluctance to do so concerning but not overly alarming. The next month goes by without much incident; Ivan reminding Duv to go home and the occasional accompanying walk back to the Residence when his security staff needed a break or found their resources stretched by Duv's long hours. He's found himself welcoming Duv's company, even if the other man still doesn't show any sign of recognizing the flirtatious edge in his smiles or turns of phrase.

It's one day, when Duv is out, that Ivan hears the news -- his mother and Simon Illyan are planning a trip Komarr-side on their way to Sergyar and Beta Colony. And of course Simon wants to meet with Duv; and both of them with him. "Busy," says Ivan when his mother calls to ask, pushing down the instinctual fear he always gets at the promise of time alone with his mother, "I've got something to go over with Duv."

He doesn't.

But what he does do is use Duv's office to hide out -- his PA tells him he won't be back the rest of the afternoon, which is good enough for Ivan. And sure, he sits on that couch with an ereader and flimsies to do work. Except it's a very comfortable couch, and it really wouldn't be a terrible thing to just lie down and read over paperwork, right? He's been working late for the past few days, so even if he had to rest his eyes for five minutes no one would blame him.

Which is how he ends up sprawled comfortably over Duv's couch, drooling and snoring slightly, fast asleep.

Time spent with Ivan has been a more than welcomed break. It's not that his staff is overbearing or he dislikes them, but he's known Ivan for years now and there's less of a need to stand on formalities. Well. Until his mind starts drifting and his gaze lingers where it shouldn't when Ivan has his attention drawn away. Ivan is both a good friend and subordinate within his chain of command, a rare combination that he's not about to ruin or put his career at risk.

Besides he's certain Ivan has other prospects far more promising than Duv. People far less busy for one thing.

In fact he did have his entire afternoon booked solid until he heard of Alys and Simon Illyan's arrival. Simon may no longer be ImpSec formally, but Duv would be remiss if he didn't take the opportunity to speak with him. So he requests his PA to reschedule the final things on his list so Duv can double back to his office to retrieve some files and get a personal opinion from the former head of ImpSec when he makes it planetside.

When he sees Ivan Vorpatril sleeping soundly on his couch.

He stares at the younger man as the door to his office slides shut and he's torn between shaking the man and leaving him be. It appears he had been at least attempting to work even if something had gone horribly wrong in the process. The man looks oddly... good even like that, drooling as he is. A thought Duv quickly shoos from his mind.

It's a long moment before he finally clears his throat loudly, hoping the noise would be enough.

Ivan stirs, but only briefly. Enough to turn over onto his side and pull at the fabric of his uniform enough that a thin strip of skin is exposed above his waistline. There's a soft snort as Ivan makes a concentrated effort to wave off the interruption before sticking his arm under a pillow and burying his face further into it.

Maybe, Ivan thinks sleepily, if whoever it was goes away he can go back to his dream. It was a nice dream, too, and he'd like to pick it up from where it left off. Which was somewhere around the part where he was kissing Duv up against a wall. Ivan makes a pleased sound into the pillow at the image as he settles further into the couch.

Okay. Okay, that is more of Ivan than Duv has seen before and the option of letting the man continue to sleep while Duv gets to work on his comconsole has become very appealing. If only so he can glance up every so often and catch a glimpse of him. Except Duv'd never forgive himself for doing it.

He keeps his distance and waits until the light flush that threatened to spread over his cheeks goes away. Deep breath.

"Captain Vorpatril," he says, much louder this time.

Captain just gets him to to snore louder. Well, snore louder and twist again, back onto his back -- uniform riding up further. He's not sure what Duv's doing, calling him Captain Vorpatril in his dream; did he have a thing for that? Ivan's handsome face scrunches up in confusion as his dream-self stumbles over that particular roadblock before going back to what was most important.

Falling silent again, Ivan remains that way unless disturbed, occasionally tossing and turning on the couch that pulls his uniform higher.

He could shake him. It would be easy to walk over, grab him by his damn uniform shirt and shake him awake and off that couch.

Instead Duv sighs, long and heavy. If Ivan is sleeping that hard then he must need it. He stares for a second longer before quickly averting his gaze to march over to his comconsole desk. The thought that Ivan should be preparing himself for a meeting with his mother briefly crosses his mind, but he'd be surprised if the younger man wasn't aware of that fact already.

Duv tries very, very hard to stay focused on his work and pretend that his very attractive subordinate isn't laying on his couch and exposing his stomach to him.

He isn't incorrect at all, and it's a short while later that Ivan's commlink chimes in an obnoxious reminder of that very thing. Ivan groans, tempted to take it off and fling it across the room but instead forcing himself up off the couch. Couch? "Wha--" Is what he says while trying to pull himself back together, thumbing it off.

Ivan blinks into the light, running one hand through his disheveled and mussed hair, squinting as he tries to remember where he is and what he's doing here. He can practically taste the dream in his mouth, and makes a face at the lingering aftertaste of a nap. Nice dream, though, even if he hadn't really had much success with Duv -- Duv. Duv. "Duv--"

The traces of sleep vanish from his eyes as he stares straight at the man who's office he has absolutely been napping in, without permission. He realizes, belatedly, that he probably looks as unprofessional as it's possible to be while still in one's office. Oh God.

Oh thank God. The sound of Ivan's wristcom has Duv breathing a sigh of relief. He no longer has to avoid glancing at that side of the room. Though when his eyes drift over he immediately brings them back to his work on the comconsole. Why the devil does Ivan look good even when waking up from a nap?

Regardless of his personal feelings on the matter, he chooses to ignore Ivan's waking form. He's almost finished at his comconsole desk and then he'll be ready for his meeting with Simon Illyan.

"Captain Vorpatril, I trust you rested well," he says plainly. Might as well give the man a chance to keep his dignity. Ivan had been kind enough to do that after he carried Duv's sleeping body out of the building. An event he still imagined from time to time, much to his dismay.

Ivan latches onto that attempt like a lifeline, straightening out his uniform and combing his hands through his hair in order to get it to look like he hasn't just been drooling into Duv's couch. "Sorry, sir. I needed someplace no one'd find me, although I did bring work with me." He gestures to the flimsies and ereader on the floor around him.

He checks his chrono and sighs -- oh yes, his mother would be arriving shortly. "I don't suppose there's a chance that Simon and m'mother have cancelled their Komarran vacation?"

"Fortunately not, Captain. I had a few issues I wanted to run by Illyan if he was willing." And thankfully the man is. Whatever bad blood had made the former Chief of ImpSec throw him to the far flung corners of the Nexus during his early career had long since vanished. A private council like this was rare.

"Will you be out with Lady Vorpatril then?"

"You don't need to sound so happy about it," Ivan mutters, still unsure of just what his relationship with Simon Illyan is. Stepfather? But even that's not correct, and he doesn't know what Simon would make of that, either. It's just one of many reasons he tends to avoid his mother these days. Even if she has given up hope of him getting married.

As for Duv's question -- "I don't think I can escape it if you're meeting with Simon. You were supposed to be my alibi."

He rolls his eyes lightly and gathers up his flimsies. There's barely any sort of outing or break where he isn't carrying an armful of those these days.

"You can use me as one tomorrow, but you'll have to fend for yourself tonight." He eyes Ivan's own pile of work-related mess. "Do you need help carrying anything back to your office?"

"Really?" Ivan brightens at Duv's offer to cover for him, grinning. "Thanks, Duv, I owe you one." Yes, his mother is that terrifying. Why is that eye-roll worthy? Ivan would like to see him deal with his mother and her... prole lover. Ivan shudders inwardly at the thought. Nope, not doing any better with that.

Ivan looks at the flimsies with a gaze that knows it's still recovering from an unexpected nap and that coordination might be a bit too much to ask for. "Er. I wouldn't mind the help if you've the hands for it."

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