Sure, it had all started with an innocent and proper goal, he’d been quick to tell himself.
It wasn’t every day the last (and most unusual) of the Empire’s Grand Admirals took command and it was only proper for the ship’s captain to keep an eye on him.
It had nothing to do with Pellaeon discovering a not-very-professional interest in the Grand Admiral’s lips and the things he could probably do with them.
Or his sudden fascination with the Grand Admiral’s hands, long fingers fiddling with a pen or scratching a Ysalamir’s fur.
Or, the Force take him, his sudden awareness of seeing how well that uniform fit and how well it accentuated certain parts of Thrawn.
He’d honestly spent more time than was healthy on fantasizing about Thrawn in all sorts of situations.
Situations that had absolutely nothing to do with their mission, but everything to do with this sudden…infatuation or whatever it was.
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