Trust is a strange thing. Who would have thought that someday you’d trust your life completely to strangers while only Maker knows how many droids are around? Yet here you are.

Dirty and exhausted but at least sated, you lean against a trunk, your eyes refusing to stay open for even a second longer. The air is filled with silent crackling and a delicious smell of grilled nuna meat while the fire warms your aching limbs and dries your sodden clothes. You know they will keep an eye on you and make sure that nobody’s going to harm you. The whole scene has something of a campfire romanticism about it… or could have if you weren’t on the run.

Only one week ago you lived your best life at a farm on Saleucami in your self-imposed solitude, but then the Seppies arrived, conquered the whole area and kept you prisoner for reasons they might think coherent. Every day new droids arrived, farms were occupied, barricades were erected in no time and peace was history. Then, two days ago, and while you were still railing about your fate, the door that once locked you in shattered in a vast explosion, and you found yourself staring into a glowing blue T-visor, its owner staring back at you with his head tilted and, as you found out later that day, just as surprised.

Your life didn’t end then, obviously. Instead four Republic Commandos, each of them his own heavily armed fortress, in shiny silver-white katarn armor, took you with them once their mission was accomplished. And that’s what you do now. You are on your way to a RV, for an OR with LAAT/i coming to pick them up and bring them back to the NU first and 000 later. That you do know by now what those cryptic acronyms mean is due to the fact that somehow and as strange and unlikely as it seems you became friends.

Niner, Fi, Atin and… Darman. Four clones, looking exactly alike and yet not at all, decided to act against all their reservations about civilians in general and nat borns in particular to rescue you from this planet. In those hours on the run while the sound of blasterfire and clashes became quieter the further you got from the battlefield, you got to know each other. You told them your name and learned that they hardly met women except the few instructors on Kamino and that they, despite being clones with the only purpose in life to be sacrificed in war, are kind and funny and… softies. And of course incredibly handsome. Especially Darman. You still have a hard time not to blush whenever you look at them and they look back at you with something curious and intense in their brown eyes, but he… Dar, makes your heart beat faster. Ughh… it’s embarrassing. If only you knew it’s also the other way round.

“Do you think she’s asleep?” Niner asks quietly as he eventually finishes his meal.

Having something other than the ration bars between his teeth is awesome and makes him soft. Usually he would not waste any time and give his brothers two or three hours of rest before letting them trot off to the RV, but as it is now you're here with them by a cozy fire and the idea of spending the night at the edge of the forest suddenly has something appealing. They are all tired after days without sleep and need some rest too.

Darman turns his head and let his gaze roam over your body. He lost count of how many times he's looked at you in the last two days, studying your features and becoming entranced by you in the privacy of his helmet. The way you move, the way you sound, the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh... Your breath is even and shallow and your hand rests slackly on the grass between you and him. If only he could touch you. Unfortunately he isn’t wearing his helmet now which is why Niner gets to see how transfixed he is by you.

“I think so, yes.”

Prying his gaze away from you, Darman swallows. The smirk that’s evident on Niner’s face makes it hard for him to speak further, but still he’s able to add: “The last two days must have been debilitating for her. Even we are stretched to our limits.”

"Before we set off tomorrow morning, we’ll give her a shot with painkillers and stimulants. It’s going to help her make it to the ship.”

“Don’t you think Dar is the only stimulant she needs?” Fi asks, his smirk even wider than the one on Niner’s face.

His cheeks immediately start to burn with heat, and he’s just happy that if anyone would ask he could claim it’s because of the fire.

“Di’kut!” Darman curses and Niner gives them both a knowing glance.

Actually, Dar wants to be vexed with Fi - but he can’t. After all, his brother just hinted that you might be interested in him. Didn’t he? He could ask him, but then again that would be too obvious. And so he remains silent and only listens to the conversation between the others, his gaze fixed on the fire.

But fierfek, he’s so aware of your presence next to him. No, he doesn’t even have to watch to know how your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, or how your curves are apparent under the fabric of your tunic. He knows how the others are eying you too from time to time, and somehow that’s making his blood boil.

There was this one night on Kamino when Kal’buir told them about the things that happen behind closed doors… in private quarters. Okay, truthfully he didn’t really tell, just kind of hinted. It was still enough to have their fantasy running wild. But until now, until this moment when you lie so soft next to him, he had never allowed himself to think about the idea that it could be him behind those closed doors. The newfound desire confuses him. Suddenly, just sitting next to you isn't enough. He needs to feel you even if it’s only a tentative touch of fingertips.

And so, after a few hesitant moments, driven by the fluttering feeling inside his stomach, he finally dares and ever so slowly, moves his hand over the ground towards you, careful that the others don’t see. But Niner is watching holomaps on his datapad anyway and Fi is busy with dismantling and cleaning his DC-17. Atin is on guard, sitting in a forked branch somewhere above them. So nothing to worry about.

Just… a little further. His eyes still focused on the fiery glow, Darman’s fingertips finally, finally, brush against yours. He stops breathing, stops moving, and just lingers in that moment of sensation when he feels your silky skin. So different from his own calloused hands. Maybe he shouldn’t have touched you. But it’s too late and he knows that he’s too weak to pry his fingers away from you. Instead, he lets them glide gently over yours.

A strange feeling surges warm through him just under his skin, it settles down inside him just right and he feels a spark of heat at the base of his spine as he turns his face and gazes down at both of your hands, barely touching, yours so small compared to his.

“Don’t wake her,” Niner suddenly says and raises a brow.

He has never seen his brother like this before. A sort of unfocused expression on his face, nervous and amazed. As if he’s surrendering to his instincts. Not the trained ones. The deeper, inherent human instincts which the Kaminoans didn’t take away from them. He watches how his hand twitches but Darman decides against breaking the touch.

“Don’t mind him, Niner,” Atin now interposes from his tree. “From what I see, Dar is on a mission T.”

Niner and Fi look upwards to where he’s sitting, both sharing that same look of incomprehension. “Mission T?”

“T for tentative.”

At that Fi starts laughing and tells Atin how proud he is of his brother that he finally shares his sense of humor and that he obviously did learn from him. Niner doesn’t say anything. And Darman… he goes red and tries to control his breathing while he interlaces his fingers with yours. They fit perfectly into each other. Ohh, he’s getting turned on.

“Dar?” Niner tilts his head and watches him closely. “What are you up to?”

Darman huffs. That’s a tricky question. It started as a fascination the moment he saw you imprisoned in that room. It turned into curiosity…then affection. The wish to be near you was getting stronger with every hour, the need to feel you almost unbearable by now. What is he up to? If only he knew. It’s not that he would be able to give in whatever he longs for anyway. Only tomorrow he’s going to never see you again. But… Why does it hurt so much? The desire, the truth, the inevitable way things will go from here.

“You know what Kal told us. People can get really close and attached to each other when under fire,” Niner says.

“How can I forget?” Darman responds with a huff. “But this… I don’t feel as if it’s just because of being in the line of fire. It’s…”

“Ohhh! Now he’s telling us that he loves her,” Fi mocks him. But then he falls silent, very very silent as he watches Dar. When he resumes speaking, his voice is as low and sincere as Dar has rarely heard it before.

“Fierfek. You really do.”

Dar swallows. Even if he wanted to answer, he couldn't, his tongue is firmly locked into place in his suddenly very dry mouth.

It is then that your fingers curl gently around his, unconsciously, as you sleep. And three pairs of dark brown eyes and a blue visor focus on the tender touch. How does love feel? Neither of them truly knows. They never had the time to think about it. They are supposed to never find out.

“Yes. I think I do.”

Darman kneels in front of you with an injector in his gloved hand just as the sun rises the next morning. He’s wearing his armor and his helmet hides his face from you. The blue glow of his T-visor reflects on your skin. Your bare skin. It doesn’t matter that it is just your arm he’s looking at… he’s feeling nervous again and something else he better shouldn’t be thinking about… not again. Carefully, he brushes his thumb over the crook of your arm, wondering how that delicate skin of yours would feel on his. Focus!

“This is going to hurt a little,” he warns you softly. “But the pain will subside and the stimulants will help you feel better after a moment.”

As he gives you the shot, he can’t see how you stare at his helmet, your bottom lip caught between your teeth and your cheeks prickling with warmth. He can’t see how you close your eyes for a split second as you work up the courage to speak. But he does hear when you whisper: “You’re the only stimulant I need. Fi was right.”

With bated breath you wait for his reaction. Seconds pass in which he remains silent and at that moment all you can think of is how much you want him. Then, in slow motion, he turns his head upwards and you wish you could see his eyes instead of the visor. But then again you’d probably faint.

“You… heard that?” For a second Darman wonders if it’s possible to die from embarrassment. “I… we… thought you were asleep.”

His fingers gently curl around your arm once more, his thumb slowly drawing circles on the puncture and all of a sudden you become aware of your erratic pulse and rising body temperature. You wonder if the pictures from the thermal scanners on his HUD already blinded him, because you feel like you’re set ablaze.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you whisper.

You bend down so that your temple almost touches the spot where the curve of his helmet hides his own. The empty injector drops to the ground, his trembling fingers no longer able to hold the tiny widget. Darman only hopes that none of his brothers is checking his vitals right now.

“But what I’ve heard made me think that I am asleep… and dreaming.”

A dream. Yeah. That’s what this is. His life isn’t meant for endearment let alone love. And still he’s willing to share that little tenderness he’s able to give. Even if it’s just the tentative touch of fingertips… again. You nuzzle your face against his cheek, your lips brushing over the cold and unyielding katarn and he’s all but overwhelmed by the desire to feel you on his skin. He hesitates for a few seconds more, so unsure of what to do, almost afraid. The armor is getting too tight and clingy. He’s barely able to breathe. And then, he slowly raises his hands and undoes the sealing of his helmet.

Time stops, until Darman finally lifts his helmet just enough to expose the lower half of his face. Your gaze drops instantly, focused on tan skin, dusted with dark hair. Lips, soft and inexperienced. Suddenly he’s so close that you can even smell his scent. Warm and masculine. Your hands move on their own accord to clutch Darman's upper arms and you wonder if he’s expecting you to...

Something unspoken lingers in the air between the two of you. He can feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage and Dar isn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold out before he’s going to combust. Ever so gently he leans towards you, his lips almost touching yours….

And then, finally, he kisses you.

Ohhhh… What a kiss! Barely more than a tentative touch of lips against lips, shy and awkward, and oh so sweet. Sweeter than any uj’alayi he ever had. You exhale softly… and Darman swallows your breath, eager to take you in… completely. Instinctively, he opens his mouth just enough to touch your lips tenderly with the tip of his tongue, pleading for more. As you sigh in response, he slips his tongue between your teeth and deepens the kiss.

It almost breaks his heart when Niner comes a step closer to find his brother, lost in you and a delicate moment like that.

“Dar, we need to strike out.” His voice is so quiet, it’s barely audible through the vocoder.

Yet it is loud enough for Dar to hear, and not a second later, his helmet snaps into place and covers all of his face again, the seal closing with a low hiss. While you look at him still mystified, Darman turns around with an affirmative nod. Nobody is able to see how he’s catching his bottom lip between his teeth in reminiscence of the most sensual experience in his life, hoping to find your taste on it just for a while longer. Niner switches the audio to the internal comm inside their helmet, for no one else to hear outside.

“I am sorry, vod.”