#oc chuckles

Chuckles didn’t go back to the Starlight.

He didn’t have any idea where his feet were carrying him until he slid onto a stool in the tiny excuse of a cantina the settlement had. As far as he knew, the place had at least three different names, and he’d never been certain which one was the official one. It always seemed to reek of death sticks and sweat, and it attracted mostly miners, leaving smears of dust from their boots across the floor. It wasn’t much, but the camaraderie and feel of the place reminded him of 79s, although the clone bar had definitely been cleaner, even on its worst days.

He wasn’t sure why he’d come here. Throughout his training and the war, he’d had more than enough medical droids warn him against drinking with a concussion, and he’d been stupid enough to ignore that advice only once. The worst hangover of his life combined with the exceptionally loud ass-chewing Crater had given him were enough to ensure he never would make that mistake again. His captain hadn’t normally been one to raise his voice, but he suspected the volume of the reprimand had been part of the punishment. 

Maybe he wanted to be around people, to blend into a crowd. 

Unfortunately, the place was mostly empty. 

Should have guessed that. Could have if my head wasn’t throbbing. 

Only two other patrons were there, tucked into corner booths. Normally, you couldn’t hear the music coming from the rundown player in the corner, but tonight, the notes easily carried across the cantina, cutting through the silence even at their low volume. 

Chuck chose a seat at the far end of the bar, away from the other patrons. He hadn’t gotten a good enough look to determine who they were, but he didn’t want to sit close enough to encourage conversation. Just because he wanted to be around people didn’t mean he actually wanted to interact with them. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone. 

Even with the concussion, he was thinking clearly enough to know he wasn’t ready to go back to the Starlight, to the kids he didn’t have answers for, to the sheets that still smelled like the woman that had just told him killing those kids and the use of inhibitor chips were justified. 

Did she actually say that though?

Chuckles folded his hands and stabbed his thumbs into the crease between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Stop trying to give her an out. 

He’d always been one to try and justify, to rationalize someone’s bad intentions away in favor of some less malicious reasoning. Crater had teased him about his optimism, but if he was honest, the majority of that optimism had died with Crater and most of his squad. 

But this was Endi. She loved kids, or she at least seemed to tolerate them better than most. She loved to teach. She baked the best desserts he’d ever had. Sunlight sparkled in her eyes and her laugh sounded like music. She was gentle and kind and soft and sweet, and the person he believed her to be simply did not match the woman he’d sat next to tonight. The two women were incompatible in every way, and yet they were the same, and no amount of spin or mental contortions would change the fact that she was a danger to Arni and Nita, a danger to him. 

How did I not see it?

His mind was still churning when he felt someone sit down next to him heavily. He ignored them for a moment before he felt a nudge in his shoulder. 

“I expected a better welcome,” Anj croaked. “You’d think I hadn’t almost died today.” 

He huffed mirthlessly as he tried not to stare. Anj’s head was wrapped in a wad of bandages that hid one eye. The other eye still glittered brightly but sported a massive bruise around the socket, and the cut on her cheek had been bandaged. The arm she had injured was in a sling, and he could see that two of her fingers were splinted. Every movement she made felt slow and carefully calculated, and he’d seen enough injured brothers to be able to see what body parts she was favoring or trying to keep away from scrutiny. In his estimate, she had at least a few injured ribs as well, an ankle that was giving her trouble, and she had all of the same muscle soreness he did. 

If she noticed him tallying her injuries, she didn’t comment. Instead, with her good hand, she slid him an unlabeled green bottle across the worn wooden bartop.

 “It was Lu’s. He kept the strongest stuff in town.” She sighed, her voice breaking slightly. “‘S not strong enough for this, though.” 

Chuckles rolled the bottle between his hands, examining the amber liquid inside. He wasn’t certain she wanted him to ask how she got it. So he didn’t.

“I can’t drink this right now.” He tapped his temple. “Concussed.”

She scoffed, taking the bottle back. “More for me then, I suppose.”

A glass of water brushed Chuckles’s knuckles, and he glanced up to see the barkeep standing on the other side of the counter, watching him carefully. He’d never been certain what species they were and figured it would be rude to guess, but they were at least visibly humanoid, a handful of centimeters taller than Chuck with dark skin and even darker eyes. Their shock of pink hair was woven into tight braids that hung down their back to their waist, and silver piercings sparkled from their nose and ears. They went by Mona and normally, they met their patrons with a smile and joke, but tonight, he could see sadness and sympathy in their eyes. 

Word’s gotten around about what happened.

“Thanks Mona,” he rasped. 

“Let me know if you need more. Anything for you, Anj?” 

The Nautolan raised the bottle she was drinking from wordlessly, and Mona took it, sniffing before wrinkling their nose. 

“I’d normally tell you to take outside shit back outside, but that’s Lu’s isn’t it?” 

Anj nodded, her eyes falling to the wooden bartop. 

“His stuff always could take the lining off your stomach,” Mona said softly, their deep voice suddenly more gravelly. “I’m sorry.”

Anj just nodded again, and Chuckles could see her swallow hard, her teeth digging into her lower lip as her thumb rubbed over the bottle. Mona met Chuck’s eyes one more time before slipping out of view. 

“How’s Hells?” Chuckles asked, hoping the news would be good enough to bring Anj up a little.

“She’ll live. Lost a lot of blood, but we… we got her there in time. A few more minutes, and we’d be having a very different conversation.” 

Chuckles fought off a shudder at the possibility that they’d eluded. 

She’s alive. She’s ok.

“She may never walk unaided again though.” The statement was forced out through gritted teeth, and Anj’s voice broke on the end of the last word. 

“But she’ll walk,” Chuckles said softly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she will.” Anj rasped with a soft, pained laugh. “Once she woke up, she was already chattering about what sort of cane she’d want, and how I shouldn’t worry because it will make her that much more interesting.” She took a swig from the bottle, hardly flinching at the harshness of the liquor inside. “Her first thought was to comfort me, as if I was the one that almost lost her leg today. As if I was the one that almost bled out in her arms.” She sniffed. “Like I always say, she’s a kindness I never accounted for in my life.”

“Petal?” Chuckles prompted after a moment.

Anj sighed, dropping her voice low as if someone might hear. “The first time she… she touched my face, it was so gentle. I flinched because of my previous partner, but Helly was slow and patient with me. She never pushed me, but it made me want to let her have more of me.” She paused. “There was a tree on one of the small islands near where I grew up on Glee Anselm. I can’t even remember if the island had a name now, but I remember the tree. It would bloom every spring with these pale pink blossoms, and towards summer, it would drop the petals when the wind would pick up. My sister and I loved to run and dance in them when it happened, and that sensation of the petals grazing my cheek, that’s what Helly made me think of the first time she touched my face. So, she’s Petal to me.” 

“Execute Order 66.”

The memory of the tree in the Jedi temple gardens slammed into Chuckles, and tears leapt into his eyes. He swallowed hard, burying that moment of peace and the violence that had followed. 

“That’s… that’s really beautiful, Anj,” he croaked out. 

“So is she,” the Nautolan replied, seemingly not noticing his turmoil or chalking it up to the day they’d both had. 

They sat in silence for a while. Chuckles had a million questions he wanted to ask Anj, but he wasn’t sure if now was the time. She was clearly grieving, and the day’s events had taken a toll on them both. 

But I need to know. I need to know so I can protect the kids. 

“Why’d he do it?” 

The question was out of his mouth before he could overthink it. The Nautolan didn’t meet his gaze, locking her dark eye on the shelves at the back of the bar as if the half-empty bottles were suddenly the most interesting thing in the universe. 

“What makes you think I know?” Her tone was slow, deliberate, just like his had been when he’d been trying to disentangle himself from Endi an hour before. 

“Hells said something in the mine. That she didn’t think he’d do something. That you both didn’t think it.” 

Anj shrugged, taking a drink before answering. 

“Helly was delirious with pain. She didn’t know what she was saying. Surprised she could even get a coherent sentence strung together.”

“Anjii.” Annoyance flared within Chuckles. He leaned closer, dropping his voice low. “I need you to tell me what you know. I need to keep my kids safe, and I can’t do that if I don’t have all the information. I need to know what you know, otherwise you’re putting Arni and Nita in danger.”

Anj said nothing for a moment, but a muscle in her jaw ticked in anger. Her eye darted around the bar one last time, ensuring no one was listening to them before she lowered her voice. 

“I’ve done a hell of a lot to keep your kids safe, Chuckles. More than you’ll ever know.” Her unbandaged eye finally met his, piercing even in the dim lighting. “And I did it without you having to tell me anything you didn’t want to. Even though you didn’t trust me fully.” 

Chuckles shrank back in his seat, his heart thundering in his chest. Anj’s expression softened as she took his reaction in. His mind raced, rapid thoughts bouncing off the pounding throb behind his eyes.

She knows. We have to get out of here. 

He stood. Anj’s good hand clamped around his forearm. 

“Sit,” she hissed. “If you run now, you’ll only make this worse. There’ll be questions. Now, sit.” 

Chuckles stood still, his mind scrambling to pull a stream of logical thoughts together, but panic overwhelmed him. 

What does she know? Who else knows? How long do we have?

“Sit. Down.” 

He sat. 

Anj watched him for a moment before casting another cautious glance around. She leaned in closer, her voice slightly above a whisper.

“The day we helped move the kids down to the hold, Arni ran back up to get one more thing out of the bunk. Now, I was holding the last armful of knick-knacks, so that struck me as odd, but kids sometimes have things stashed, so I thought nothing of it. They came back a few minutes later with something shoved up under their shirt. I didn’t press, but they stumbled on the last step, and that metallic something clattered out onto the floor. I turned, and they were hurriedly shoving it back out of view.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I’ve seen many weapons in my time, Chuck. Several of the variety they were carrying, although never up close.”

Their lightsaber. She saw their lightsaber.

Chuckles felt like the bottom of his stomach was going to drop out. His mind frantically raced, trying and failing to come up with a believable explanation as to why an eleven-year-old would have a Jedi weapon.

“Anj-”

She raised her hand to cut him off. “I turned away, and as far as they know and as far as I’m concerned, I never saw it. Got it?” 

He nodded, unable to formulate words. 

Her eye was flicking over every centimeter of his face, taking in his reaction, watching him process the new information. Finally, she spoke again. 

“I need you to understand that you can trust me. That there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you and your kids safe. Hells knows too. I couldn’t keep it from her. She knows me too well. But there are people that you’re close to that wouldn’t do the same.”

“I know about Endi,” he said quietly. 

Anj’s mouth drew into a thin line. 

“Ah,” was all she said. 

“I mean, I didn’t know, not until tonight,” he stumbled. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t that. I just… that’s why I’m here. And not at home. I don’t understand what happened, and I don’t have answers.” He scrubbed his hands over his face before tugging gently on his mohawk. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?” 

A look of guilt clouded Anj’s features. She rolled her shoulders, rolling the bottle between her hands. “Thought you’d see it on your own eventually. And I wasn’t sure how to intervene without telling you what I knew. I wasn’t sure how you’d react to me knowing something you didn’t want me to.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, Anj,” he rasped, his throat suddenly tightening on him. “I wanted to. The kids love you and Hells. I just… the last place we were at, I told people. And then those people had to lie for us, and that put them in danger. And I… I didn’t want to do that to you.” 

“You wanted to tell her.”

“I did,” he gritted out. “Almost did tonight. Thank the Maker she told me where she stood first.” 

Anj was quiet for a moment. “There wasn’t much about the war that made it out here. Lots of folks have to just believe what they see on the feeds. That’s all we get out here.” 

“You know better.”

“I do. But I wasn’t always on Lothal.” 

Chuckles paused. “You said you saw… a weapon like Arni’s before.”

Anj nodded, taking another deep pull from the bottle, drawing her lips back from her teeth in a grimace as the liquor burned her insides. “I did. Was in Chaleydonia on Christophsis when the war broke out. The Separatists moved in quick, and then there was a siege and a battle, and I decided I wanted no part of it, so I headed for Lothal. Seemed like it wouldn’t see much action, and my bet paid off. Well, until now, I suppose.” 

“And that was enough? To make you see things differently about the Jedi?”

Anj shrugged again. “I don’t claim to understand the ins and outs of everything that happened politically at that time. But I do know what the Jedi meant to people. Growing up, we were taught that they were peacekeepers. The stuff of legends, really. And regardless of how much of that was true or not, I don’t see how killing off all of them did anyone a lick of good.” She shivered slightly, and her grip tightened around the bottle, now only about half full. Her voice dropped even lower. 

“I’m no fan of the Empire. Wasn’t that big on the Republic either, but they at least felt like they tried at times. The Empire just seems keen to get as much power as they can and quash any naysayers. And all that about the Jedi? I don’t know everything, but I cannot imagine a galaxy that would be better off without Arni and Nita existing.” 

Chuckles’s vision blurred, and his voice cracked. He sniffed hard. “Me either.” 

He felt Anj’s eye on him and turned to meet her gaze. More questions were looming in her expression, and he could guess what they were. 

You can trust her. You know you can. 

He took a deep breath. 

“My chip didn’t work,” he said softly. “I was still in service at the end of the war. I’d gone to the temple to see someone, and that’s when all hell broke loose. I-I saw them, my brothers, killing Jedi, killing children.” His hands were shaking, and he folded them together, clasping tightly to keep the tremors in check. “I found the kids and got them out. At first I thought… I thought it had to be Seppies. That they’d gotten ahold of clone armor and snuck in. There was no universe in which I could fathom them doing that.”

“So the chips were real?”

“I think so. Never got any official confirmation, but when the order was given, there was a sharp pain in my head, like something trying to activate, crazy as that may sound.” His fingers drifted up to graze the place on his scalp where he’d felt that stabbing pressure that day. “I just… they’d never have done that, Anj. Not without something making them.”

“Why didn’t yours work?”

He huffed a laugh. “The only thing I can figure is too many concussions. I’ve come down on that place on my head at least twice. Best guess is I’ve damaged it. So I kept my wits about me by sheer dumb luck.”

Anj chuckled quietly. “So your concussions saved your life. And theirs.” She extended the lip of the bottle towards the rim of his water glass. 

“It’s bad luck to toast with water,” he mumbled. 

“You think we haven’t used up all the bad luck today?”

Chuckles huffed at that, clinking his glass of water against her bottle. “Luck didn’t have much to do with it.”

“Oh, I think we’re luckier than you know,” Anj said softly. 

The Nautolan sighed deeply, clearly still wrestling with how much to tell him. Finally, she gingerly turned, fishing a piece of folded flimsi out of her back pocket and placing it on the bar top. She drummed her fingers on it, still thinking until finally, she let out a long, slow exhale. 

“Judging by the fact that you’re still sitting here and not halfway to hyperspace, I’m going to assume you’ve decided to trust me with your secret. At least, I’m hoping you’re not going to kill me after we leave here.” Her lip was curled into a nervous smirk. 

“Thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. Plus, I think I still like your odds, even with one arm in a sling,” he joked with a pained wink. 

Anj relaxed slightly. “Right. Well, then it’s only fair I put my trust in you.” She tapped the paper. “This was in the breast pocket of the shirt you had on. Hells was still clutching it when they brought her into the med tent.” 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t have anything in that pocket.” 

“It’s from Lu.” 

Chuckles’s blood pounded in his ears as his brain raced back to the moments just before the explosion. He remembered Lu’s expression, the way he’d awkwardly patted Chuck’s chest, just above the pocket. 

“Karking hells,” he swore quietly. 

“I’m going to tell you what I know about Lu,” Anj continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “And then you and I are gonna read this together. I tried. I couldn’t do it. It’s addressed to you. And I just can’t do it.” 

Chuckles nodded slowly. “Alright.” 

Anj studied the bottle between her hands, and he could see she was steeling herself for what she was about to share. He propped his feet on the bar stool and faced forward, occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He knew she’d speak when she was ready, and he didn’t want to stare at her or the folded note sitting next to her elbow. Finally, she spoke, her voice gravelly and grief-stricken. 

“Lu was like you and I,” she rasped tightly. “Has a past he’s running from. His homeworld was one of the first to have the Empire clamp a manacle on it. Entire cities occupied with patrols in the streets, picking people up for silly things like being out past curfew. Lu and a few others didn’t take kindly to that and raised a bit of hell about it. Most of his friends got locked up, but Lu had his twin sister Cilli and her family depending on him, so he managed to get out and ran here. He’s been lying low, sending money home to Cilli and her kids. They were close. Real close. Their parents died young, so they’ve been looking out for one another ever since. Cilli’s second pregnancy was so hard, and her man cut and ran when things got tough, so Lu stepped up.” Anj paused to take another swig from the bottle, wincing slightly. “Someone got a message to Lu yesterday. The Empire found out Cilli was getting credits from him. Not sure how. He was so careful, running the credits through all sorts of different places to make sure it didn’t trace back to him. But someone figured it out, and the Imperials classified that as conspiring with a traitor to the Empire. Apparently they take their treason quite seriously, and they raided the house. With detonators.” 

She paused to let out a shuddering breath. 

“The kids were inside, and they didn’t care. Kids. Gone in an instant. They were closest to the door. As you can imagine, Cilli didn’t take it lying down, not after seeing her babies die. From what it sounds like, she went out with a blaster in her hand and a curse on her lips.” 

Anj’s head was down, her tendrils hiding her face. Chuckles could still hear her quivering exhales. The blood was drained from her knuckles, and it was a wonder the bottle in her hand hadn’t shattered in her grip.

“I commed Lu to give him a heads up about the inspectors yesterday, and when he didn’t answer, I went over to check on him. He’s normally pretty responsive, so it struck me as odd. When I got there, I could tell right away something was wrong. He was quiet, more quiet than usual, but there was a tremor in his hands and an anger I could just feel rolling off of him. I finally pressed enough for him to tell me, and when he started talking, it was like he couldn’t stop the words. I told him to take the week off, to not do anything rash. But the minute I saw him today, I knew he hadn’t listened.” 

Chuckles chewed the inside of his cheek as he turned the information over in his head. He certainly understood that anger that Lu had felt. There had absolutely been days where he’d felt the losses so deeply that he’d considered burning everything down. 

The difference is you didn’t. Because your remaining brothers would have faced the consequences.  

“Anger and grief are a deadly combination,” he murmured bitterly. “Keeps you from thinking clearly. And that’s when you put the other people you care about in danger.” 

Anj’s head snapped up, and her eye pierced into him fiercely. 

“Watch your tongue.”

He glared back at her, taking a sip of his water. “He brought the damn shaft down on us, Anj. He almost killed us too. I get his anger, trust me, I do. But I would never have done something that could have gotten others I cared about hurt.”

“And Lu didn’t either,” she snarled under her breath. 

“How do you figure?” 

She sighed, picking at the edge of one of her bandages. 

“I didn’t know the reason for the inspection until this morning. The new shaft was pushed for by the Empire in order to meet their quotas, so they provided small mining corporations with some of the construction materials as incentives to expand. Every screw and strut and gear in that shaft comes from Imperial factories, and apparently, that means they’re built by the lowest bidder.” She scoffed angrily. “Jerrno got notice from some of his partners that the inspectors were coming to look at the construction of the shaft. Apparently, they’ve been making the rounds, claiming shafts aren’t being constructed properly, but they’re just covering their own asses. The beams we were supplied with can’t hold what they’re spec’ed to. Another mine saw a collapse last month, and the inspectors came out and blamed the corp and their construction processes. But when they tested out a few of the extra beams they had leftover, they found the struts didn’t even come close to being as durable as they were supposed to be.” 

Chuckles nodded slowly as she met his gaze once more, her voice quieter. 

“Lu was the best damn demolitions expert I’ve ever seen. He could blow a mite off a massiff without waking it up. He had no way of knowing about the fucking beams. Teef was filling me in right when Lu walked in.” Her voice broke. “You think what you want, but I believe Lu just wanted to take out the shaft and inspectors, not bring the entire cliff down on us. That collapse was far too uncontrolled for one of his explosions.” 

Her fist tightened around the neck of the bottle, and the muscle in her jaw twitched angrily again.

 “They weren’t even going to tell us about the beams. The inspectors just strolled in this morning without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘fuck you’. They were just gonna tell us it was our fault. Probably still will.” 

She drained the bottle, tossing it into a bin at the back of the bar before she turned to face Chuckles again. 

“Lu didn’t almost kill us, but the Empire sure did.” 

Chuckles let out a long, shuddering breath. All of the anger and resentment he felt leaked out of him, and grief swiftly settled into its place. Of course Lu hadn’t meant to hurt them, not the Lu that had held Nita’s hand or listened to Arni babble on for hours, not the Lu that had quietly showed up with furniture for the kids’ room and watched with a quiet smile as they squealed over it. There was almost a relief for Chuckles, to let the pieces fall into place and find that the Nikto he’d known was the same person he’d always thought he was, the confirmation that Lu was the Lu he’d seemed to be. 

It still felt as though he’d lost two people today, Lu and the Endi he thought he’d known, and he grieved them both. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he wiped at them hurriedly, sniffling hard. 

“I’m so sorry, Anj.” 

“You had no way of knowing,” she croaked. “I just… I know he’s going to get branded as a terrorist, an unhinged and dangerous and cruel man.” 

It’s already happening, Chuckles thought, Endi’s words echoing in his mind. 

“But we know better,” Anj continued. “We knew him.” 

“We did,” Chuckles agreed. Quietly, he reached over for the note. Anj didn’t move. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the paper. 

Chuck,

I can’t give this to Anj or Hells. They’ll know immediately and stop me. So I’m sorry, but it has to be you. I know you may not get my reasoning, and that’s fine, but I know you’ll understand wanting to keep loved ones safe, and the anger that comes with failing at that. Tell Anj I’m sorry, but I can’t let it stand. I’m sure she’ll tell you why, about my sister. All that I had in this galaxy was spilled on Cilli’s front stoop. I can’t stand for it, but I can damn sure fall making my point. 

I don’t know how Arni and Nita came to be yours, but keep them safe at all costs. I’ve taken your name off the roster for today and for the rest of the week. Left a note for Jerrno that I didn’t want your name involved, especially being a clone. I’m confident that’ll be enough, and Anj’ll see that it is.

You and your kids are special, a symbol of hope in a galaxy turned on its head. I hope they have the future I wanted for my kin. See that they do. And see that Arni keeps that laser sword better hidden. 

It’s better this way. I know too many names and too many places, and I can’t have any more blood on my soul. Tell Anj and Hells I’m sorry. I hope they’ll forgive me and know that they were the family I chose. You all were. 

Lu

“That shithead did see,” Anj breathed over Chuckles’s shoulder. “He was right behind me, that day on the ship, but I stepped in front of Arni, trying to hide it better.” She choked out a laugh. “Never reacted, and had a perfect sabacc face about it when I probed later. Karking asshole.” 

“The roster?” Chuckles managed to grit out around the emotions that were overwhelming him.

“I’ll see that it’s handled,” Anj said quietly. “And I’ll testify to whoever that will listen that Lu acted alone, that he’d been nursing anti-Imperial sentiment for a long time, but we never thought it’d get this far.” 

“Anj, I can’t ask that-”

“You’re not askin’. I’m telling you how it’s going to be. Maker alive, Lu wasn’t stupid, but this was impulsive and short-sighted and driven by grief. He planned all these contingencies, but he didn’t really think this through. And now, here we are, picking up the pieces and trying to stay safe while he fucks off into whatever afterlife he believed in.” Chuckles could see her moving through her grief, allowing some anger at her friend to finally show. 

“It won’t even take them long to fix that shaft,” she snorted. “A few months at most, even if we replace all the struts, and we’ll be right back down there. I know I told him to not do anything rash, but if he’d… I’d have…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I’d have at least helped him make sure it counted for something.”

It was then that Chuckles saw it. Anj sat back, her unbandaged eye glistening with unshed tears, and yes, there was grief there, but more than that, there was betrayal. She’d thought Lu would reach out to her, would allow her to help him when he needed her most, and instead, he’d gone alone. 

“He kept you safe by keeping you out of it,” Chuckles rasped, reaching over and gripping her hand. She tried to yank it away, but he held on tightly. “And for that, I’m grateful, Anj. Because I’d have done the same.”

“I doubt that,” she snorted, wiping at her eye with her good hand. “Even as reckless as you are.” 

Chuckles was quiet for a beat before he folded his hands in front of him. “When I was a pilot, I lost a lot of brothers. Pretty much my entire squad once. I got out by the skin of my teeth. A pilot’s death isn’t like a normal soldier. We don’t bleed out slowly on some battlefield. It’s rare we even get a shot at a medic. If a ship’s done, it’s done, and in the middle of a fight, it’s not like you can take it to a hangar for maintenance.” 

He felt Anj watching him, and he pressed on slowly. 

“Sometimes, when your ship’s damaged and there’s no hope of you making it home, you do something reckless. You do what you can to steer your fighter and take out as many of the bad guys as you can. It’s not an official thing we’re trained to do, but many of my brothers did. Of course they knew it wasn’t always guaranteed to do much. Sometimes, you’re just a spec of flame on the side of a much bigger battle station. But the thing is, you hope that at a minimum, someone will see it happen, will see you doing everything you can with the moments that you have left, and you hope that galvanizes them.” He ran his thumb along the edge of his water glass. “I think Lu knew as well as you do that it wouldn’t take them long to rebuild, but I think what he hoped is that we’ll be galvanized by what he did. We’ll see what the Empire did to him and his family, and we’ll see his final act of defiance, and we’ll carry that spirit with us and spread it.” He tugged lightly at his mohawk. “I’ve been hiding for the last year, worried that if I stepped into the fight again, I’d put my kids and those around us at risk. But now… I don’t know.” 

“I don’t know either,” Anj said quietly. “But what I do know is I’m not sure I can let it all stand. Same as Lu. But I haven’t an inkling of where to start.” 

Chuckles took another sip of his water. “Right now, I think the best thing we can do is keep Lu’s memory and message alive,” Chuckles whispered. “Let the anger and the grief pass so that you think clearly. And then you wait.” 

“Wait?”

He nodded. “The opportunities will come. We start small. Maybe someone like Lu or me needs a job, and we help them get one and cover their tracks. Maybe some expensive equipment goes missing.” 

Anj chewed her lip, and he could see her thinking. “Maybe someone with a lot of pull finds out about the construction materials in the mines.” 

“Maybe,” he agreed. Grief was still the main emotion in his system, but Chuckles could feel something sparking in his chest, like a nearly-dead ember being blown upon. He hadn’t felt that spark in over a year, but it felt good, right even. 

Maybe I’m finally on the right path. 

He could feel a similar energy radiating off of Anj. The slump in her shoulders had disappeared, and a hint of her usual smirk was tugging at the corner of her mouth. “For Lu,” she said quietly, holding out her pinky finger on her uninjured hand towards Chuckles. 

He grinned. 

“For Lu,” he promised, locking his pinky with hers. 

“But tonight, we rest.”

“Some of us do,” he corrected her. “I’m not supposed to sleep much.” 

“I don’t know that either of us will do much of that,” Anj said quietly, some of the sadness seeping back in. “But we can still try.”

“We can.” Chuckles pushed his stool back from the bar, standing carefully. He folded the flimsi back up and slid it back to Anj. “You keep this.” 

She nodded wordlessly, taking the note between her calloused fingers and rubbing it gently. “Don’t come ‘round the mine until I tell you it’s safe, got it?” she whispered.

“Yes ma’am.” He gently clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Take care of yourself. And give Hells my love. Let us know if there’s anything we can do.” 

“When she’s better, can you bring the kids around?” Anj asked quietly. Chuckles could hear the emotion she was holding back. “They always make her light up.” 

“You got it,” he said quietly. 

She nodded. 

“‘Night Mona!” Chuckles called over his shoulder. He thought he heard them call a soft response, but he was already out the door.

He wasn’t sure if it was the water or the conversation or his headache finally fading a bit, but a determination had settled into his chest, one that he hadn’t realized had been lying dormant in the year since the war. He wanted to do something, even if he wasn’t sure what that was yet. 

But we’ve got to be safe. I can’t put the kids in danger. 

But what am I teaching them if we just keep running and hiding?

How to survive.

But what if they want more than that? 

His mind was still wrestling with itself, even as he made his way home, his feet carrying him back to the Starlight as if on autopilot. The interior of the ship was dark and quiet, and he could still smell the dinner he’d shared with Arni and Nita hours ago. The familiarity of it all brought a sense of relief, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. He kicked off his boots with a sigh, shutting the hatch behind him. 

Home. But maybe not settled. 

His eyes burned, and he ground the heel of his hand into them, huffing a quiet laugh.

One step at a time. 

A soft shuffling sound broke him out of his haze, an incongruence from his expectations that jarred him just enough to draw his attention. His eyes snapped to the co-pilot seat. 

Arni was sitting in it, wrapped in the heavy blanket from his bunk. They clearly hadn’t anticipated him coming home, but their sharp brown eyes quickly scanned his face, absorbing everything as usual. He was too tired and overwhelmed to try and hide his feelings anymore tonight.  

“Why are you up, kid?” he asked. 

They shrugged. “Woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.” 

“Nita?”

“Out. She was pretty tired.” 

Chuckles nodded, trudging over to the pilot seat and plopping into it. He let his gaze drift out the front viewport to the stars, taking in the mountains and the soft glow of the town, suddenly less welcoming than it had seemed when he’d woken up this morning. 

Maker alive, morning feels like a lifetime ago. When Lu was still here.

It wasn’t all threatening. There was good in the little town still, but there were also threats he’d let slide past his defenses, and now more than ever, he needed to be cautious.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Arni said softly, interrupting his thoughts. 

He sighed heavily. “Me too, kid. I’m sorry I scared you like that.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” they replied, hugging the blanket closer around them. 

“Is that why you can’t sleep?”

They nodded. “When… when we first heard about the explosion, I knew there was a chance you were gone. So I started trying to think of what we’d do, Nita and me.” 

Chuckles’s heart shattered. 

“I figured I could probably keep doing repairs, and maybe Grinz would let me help out at the store for some credits,” they continued. “I just needed to find a way to keep us fed until I was old enough to go into the mines. I think we could have made it work.” They turned to look at him, their eyes shining with tears. They gave him a small smile. “I’m glad we don’t have to though.”

Chuckles slid out of his chair, kneeling in front of Arni and pulling them into a tight hug. 

“I’m so sorry, Arni. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His chest swelled with awe at the young Twi’lek and their selflessness, but the fact that they thought they were alone again, that they’d have to take care of Nita on their own tore at him. He bit back a shuddering sob, rocking Arni back and forth. He felt a damp spot form on his shirt where their face was pressed against his chest, and their fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m right here, kid. I’m alright.” 

“I know. I was just scared.”

“That’s allowed.” 

After a few minutes, they released him, wiping at their nose and eyes. Chuckles shifted back in the pilot’s seat, sniffling back his own emotions. 

“Why didn’t you stay at Endi’s?” Arni asked quietly after a few moments. 

Chuckles turned his head to look at them. They were watching him intently, gathering data from his reaction to the question. And that’s when it dawned on him. 

The wariness. The hesitation. It all makes sense. 

He sighed deeply. 

“You knew, didn’t you? About her and how she felt about… about it all?”

Arni’s eyes dropped to their lap. They nodded. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Another shrug. “You seemed happy. And you deserve to be happy.” They met his gaze. “I thought you knew.” 

Chuckles stared at them for a moment before scrubbing his hands over his face, tugging lightly at his mohawk. 

“Arni, there is no universe where I’d want to be with someone like that. That thinks like that.” He sighed again. “Whoever I’m with, I want it to be someone that I could eventually trust with our secrets. Endi and people that see the galaxy the same way will never fit that category, understand?” His voice cracked, and he did his best to keep the anger and grief he felt at bay.

They thought I’d put someone like that above them.

Arni nodded again, meeting his eyes. “Maybe you can convince her.”

Chuckles huffed at the suggestion. “Nah. I don’t want to be with someone that I have to convince that killing children was a bad idea,” he joked dryly. “Or that putting chips in me and my brothers’ heads was wrong.” He shook his head, releasing a mirthless laugh. “I just can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I’m such a kriffing idiot.” 

“You’re not,” Arni said quietly. “You wanted to see the good in her. And I can’t fault you for that.” They pulled their skinny legs up to their chest, wrapping their arms around their knees. “Being alone is hard. I don’t want you to feel alone, Chuckles.” 

“I’ve got you and Nita. I’ll never be alone.”

“That’s different and you know it,” they countered. “I saw how you looked at Teacher Endi. I’ve never seen you look at anyone else like that.” 

Chuckles blew out a long breath through his mouth. 

Dark curls. Sharp eyes. A twist of a smirk. 

“There was someone else that I looked at like that. A long time ago,” he said quietly. 

“What were they like?” 

He glanced over at Arni. They were watching him intently with wide eyes. 

“Only if you want to talk about them. I’d like to hear,” they added. 

Chuckles nodded, letting his mind drift back to the garages of Coruscant. 

“Her name was Brienna. We called her Bri for short. Well, Bolts mostly. She was a mechanic that worked on our ships. Deep, brown eyes that felt like she knew everything about you from just one glance, dark, wild curls that she always was blowing out of her face. A smile that could light your whole day up just before she ripped you a new asshole. Maker, she was so smart and quick. She was short, but she acted like she was ten meters tall. Took no shit from anyone.” He realized his cheeks were hurting from how big he was smiling. He hadn’t let himself think about Bri in a long time. Not really. But it felt good. 

Arni was smiling too, as if Chuckles’s joy was infectious. “What happened to her?”

The smile on Chuck’s face faded. 

“Not sure. I was going to see her on the day the war ended. We’d been seeing each other in secret, keeping it casual. She didn’t want the other pilots to think I was getting special treatment, so we didn’t tell many people. I’d promised to take her to dinner when the war was over and court her properly. And then… well, you know the rest of that story.” 

“Did you love her?”

Chuckles chewed the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah I did. Was thinking of telling her that night.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Chuckles met Arni’s eyes again. “I’m not. I got you and Nita out of the deal.”

“But you never got to tell her.”

He sighed again, shrugging one shoulder. “That’s true. But I’d like to think she knew. And I almost hope she thinks I died. Better that than her thinking I was a child killer or a mindless drone that offered the Republic up on a silver platter.” 

“That’s still sad.” 

Chuckles tucked his hands behind his head, carefully propping his boots up on the flight console of the ship. 

“It is, but I was lucky that I got to experience love like that, kid. Not many of my brothers did. There were some that tried to make things work, but it was hard. You knew tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and if you found someone to share your life with, there was a good chance you might leave them behind. Not to mention a good portion of the galaxy didn’t see us as people in the first place. I was lucky to have Bri, even if it was brief and didn’t end the way I wanted it to.”

“Do you miss her?” 

Heat crept up to Chuckle’s cheeks, and his eyes stung slightly. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “When I think about her.” He looked over at Arni. “I think you would have liked her.” 

“What if we tried to find her?”

He forced a smile, touched by Arni’s hopefulness and desire to find someone that meant so much to him. But he didn’t share their optimism. 

“It’s a nice thought, but I wouldn’t even know where to start, kiddo.” He reached over and squeezed their shoulder. 

“I’m alright. I’m sure she’s moved on already. And I want her to be happy, you know?”

Arni appeared to contemplate this for a few moments. 

“You should be happy too.”

Chuckles’s smile came more naturally this time. “I will be, kid. It hurts a bit right now, but I will be happy. Don’t you worry.” 

They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the stars together. Finally, Chuckles could hear Arni’s breathing deepen, punctuated by the occasional soft snore. As carefully as he could, he gathered the Twi’lek in his arms and made his way down to the hold, doing his best not to trip over the toys that were scattered around. Nita was still dozing quietly, her trooper doll tucked close to her side. Chuckles tucked Arni back into bed gently, waiting a few minutes for the confirmation that they were still asleep, and when he heard another snore escape them, he smiled, sneaking back to the cockpit. 

It had been a while since he’d slept in the pilot’s chair, but it felt fitting tonight. He considered what he’d do with the sheets that still smelled like Endi as he retrieved the brown bottle of mystery liquor from its hiding place and sat back down heavily in the weathered seat.

Maybe just a little. There isn’t that much of it left anyway.

Sorry, Crate.

The burn of the booze felt nice and familiar, warming his insides and taking some of the edge off of his feelings. He knew he had to come up with a reason to end things with Endi, one that didn’t create suspicion or out him as an enemy of the Empire. He also knew he’d likely have to carry on the charade for a while longer. He’d acted strangely enough tonight that ending things immediately may make her suspicious. 

He hated this. 

“Now’s just not a good time for the kids. Work’s getting to be too much, especially with what just happened, and I don’t think that’s fair to you.”

No, that lets her counter it. 

“I’m not over the last person I was with. I’m not ready to move on yet. I thought I was, but I’m not.”

That could work. 

It wasn’t exactly untrue now that he thought about it. How many times had flashes of Brienna invaded his mind while he was with Endi? How many times had he almost called her the wrong name?

Maybe I was just trying to find someone to fill that space for me. But no one was ever going to be her.

Chuck glanced over at the now-empty co-pilot chair and noticed Arni had left their sketching supplies in it. Leaning over, he picked up a loose piece of flimsi and placed it on the top of their journal before reaching for a pencil. 

He started with her eyes. Those were her most striking feature, in his opinion. He could get the shape right after a few rough attempts, but never could seem to capture the light in them or the sharpness, the way they’d always felt like they were pinning him down. He moved on to her nose, which proved easier, and then her lips. He couldn’t quite get their fullness right or the permanent skeptical quirk her mouth always seemed to have, but what he finally came up with felt somewhat acceptable. The curve of her jaw was easy enough from memory; he’d touched that place on her enough to never forget it, cradling her face when he’d kissed her, running his fingers along it as she slept. 

Her ears were impossible, and he eventually compromised by deciding to cover them with her hair, but even that wasn’t right. The curls were mostly the right shape, but he couldn’t get them to sit right against her face, nor could he add the shine they always seemed to have. As his frustration grew, so did his level of inebriation, and at some point he tossed the paper and pencil aside with a huff, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and grumbling to himself before eventually drifting off to sleep. 

Brienna’s loud cackle and brown eyes haunted his dreams. He could almost feel the rough fabric over her coveralls beneath his fingers, smell the oil and grease on her skin. 

Bri. 

Even with the concussion, Chuckles slept through the night, too overcome by exhaustion to worry about protocol. When he awoke in the morning, the paper and pencils had all been cleared away along with the empty liquor bottle.

The bass of the music in 79s is damn near deafening as you step inside the bar, almost immediately spotting the magenta and grey paint of the 28th Combat Wing’s armor in their favored booth against the wall. What stands out more was the yellow hatch-marked commando armor sitting amongst them. Your teeth immediately find the inside of your cheek, gnawing away to ease your annoyance.

Fucking Gregor. Dammit. 

You’ve been looking forward to this all week, but of course that fucking commando is here. Maker alive, he’s infuriating, but you aren’t about to let him ruin your night out. You have to cash out on all of the booze Chuckles owes you at some point, and he’s so rarely planetside, your opportunities are limited. 

But why did it have to be the night that asshole is also around? 

You’re not sure what exactly about Gregor gets under your skin. Maybe it’s his cocky smirk or his stupid hair or that ridiculous giggle that sounds like an inebriated fathier whinnying. Or maybe it’s the way he seems entirely unbothered by you. No matter what it is, Gregor’s got you figured and loves to dig his finger into that sore spot whenever he gets the chance. He’s already spotted you from across the room, raising an eyebrow as you start heading in his direction. 

Not tonight, asshole. 

You square your shoulders, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. None of them have ever seen you out of your mechanic’s jumpsuit, and you’d picked your favorite (and only) dress for the occasion. It’s a simple, strappy black number, short, but not too short, shimmery, and easy enough to get into and out of should the need arise. After all, you deserve a little bit of attention. And maybe a good lay. If you can find one.

Gregor says nothing as he sips his beer, but his eyes never leave you, raking from your toes to your eyebrows as you nudge Chuckles and slide into the booth next to him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m saving this seat for some greasy mechanic I owe a few drinks to,” Chuckles teases, slipping his arm over the back of the booth behind you. 

“Oh, my apologies. Mind if I keep it warm until she gets here?” you joke back, playfully ruffling his mohawk, which is currently a deep purple color. 

Crater rolls his eyes while Stones leans over, whispering that you look very nice, making you duck your head bashfully. Chuck flags down a waiter droid. 

“What’ll it be, Bolts?” he asks, invoking the nickname he’d given you.”Just don’t break my non-existent bank account.” 

“I’ll have a whiskey, please,” you request. Gregor raises an eyebrow again. 

You feel annoyance tighten your chest. “What?” you ask sharply. 

“Here we go,” mumbles Guin under his breath.

Gregor shrugs. “Just didn’t peg you for the whiskey type.” 

“Oh, do enlighten me as to what type you thought I’d be, Captain.”

“Alright, alright, your seat’s not even warm yet,” Chuck mutters. He leans closer, speaking directly into your ear. “What is your damage with him?” 

You sniff delicately, as if Chuckles has somehow misread the constant bickering between Gregor and you. “Nothin’. I just asked a question.” 

Chuck rolls his eyes before sliding the whiskey in front of you. “Just drink this so you’ve got less of a stick up your ass.” 

You glare at him, but accept the drink anyway, enjoying the slight burn in your throat and the warmth that settles into your belly. 

It doesn’t take too many whiskeys before you feel yourself start to relax, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. You laugh at Chuckles’s terrible jokes, chat with Crater about the last bolo ball game, and even get Sticks to come out of his shell a bit, convincing him to regale you with the stories behind Chuckles’s most ridiculous injuries. The entire time, you notice Gregor’s stealing glances at you, and your confidence grows. 

Let the bastard look.

You lean forward to take another sip of whatever drink Chuckles has ordered for you now. You let your cleavage rest on the table as your tongue wraps around the straw, pulling it between your lips. You glance up in time to see Gregor watching you over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on your breasts, but they quickly flick up to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes at his obvious leering, leaning back into the crook of Chuckles’s shoulder. The pilot seems somewhat surprised, but doesn’t move to pull away. Gregor says nothing, but something in his eyes seems to flare for a moment. 

You’re imagining things. 

As the evening progresses, Crater graciously excuses himself to head back to the barracks and catch up on some reports. As soon as their commanding officer disappears towards the bar to settle his tab, tongues loosen, and suddenly the conversation turns to romantic encounters. Unfortunately, the boys haven’t spent enough time planetside to rack up anything too salacious, so it isn’t long before you become the target of the conversation. 

“C’mon, Bolts. What’s been your wildest night?” 

“A lady never kisses and tells.”

“Who said anything about kissing?” 

“And since when are you a lady?” You elbow Chuck for that comment, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it.

“Oh, come on. There has to have been something that you’d consider memorable.” 

You shrug. “Not lately.” 

“No game or nothing worth writing home about?”

“You guys sure are nosey.” 

“We’ve got to live vicariously through you, Bolts.”

You laugh, growing bolder as the liquor in your stomach warms you. “There was a guy a few weeks back. He did his best, and it was probably better sex than I’d had in a while, but that’s not saying much with the losing streak I’ve had going. Thinking of giving up and just going with the battery-powered lovers from here on out. At least then I get to finish.” 

Stones groans in despair for your lackluster love life and Chuckles cackles loudly. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, Bolts.” 

You shrug. “It’s been a struggle.”

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.” 

Gregor had been quiet for the last little while, but that comment from him draws your attention. And your ire.

“And what would you know about making a woman cum, Captain?” you sneer. 

He grins cheekily. “Plenty.” 

“I bet you couldn’t make a woman orgasm if your life depended on it,” you bite back. 

Chuckles huffs in annoyance next to you. Gregor swirls the whiskey he’s switched to in the light, watching the legs of the liquid trail down the side of the glass. 

“I’ll take that bet.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever really openly antagonized you, and something about the way he’s looking at you sets your blood boiling and a very different sort of blaze licking up your spine. Your eyes lock onto one another, and for reasons you can’t explain, you feel heat pool between your legs. You adjust in the booth, and while the others are guffawing about something else Chuckles said to lighten the mood, Gregor notes the way your thighs rub together. He smirks, and you scowl back as your annoyance battles for control with the sudden tingle that ripples through your nerves. After another few minutes, you excuse yourself, unsure of where you’re heading.

Just need to get away from him for a minute. 

Your feet carry you towards the back of the bar where it’s darker. You pass plenty of bodies pressed together, panting, sweating, and moaning in the dim lighting. Suddenly, you feel a hand in the small of your back, pressing you towards one unoccupied corner that’s far from any prying eyes. You whirl to find Gregor smirking down at you. 

“I-I was looking for the ‘freshers,” you sputter. 

“Now love, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he responds. “I think you were looking for trouble.” 

You regain your bearings, scoffing at him as he backs you into the corner. You feel the heat grow between your legs, and you hate how your panties are sticking to you as he pins you against the wall, one arm braced next to your head as he leans closer, smirking. You can smell his sweat and his drink and his skin, and a sudden shiver rips through you. You jut your chin out defiantly.

“What do you want, Gregor?” you snap. 

“Same thing as you.”

“And what’s that?”

He chuckles before leaning even closer to you, his voice rasping in your ear. “To make you cum.” 

You snort indignantly, but your legs are trembling underneath you.

“The question is,” he continues. “How best to make that happen? Are you one of those lovers that wants to be taken roughly, with me buried deep in that sopping cunt of yours while I hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet? Or do you need me to build you up more slowly, take my time until you fall apart?” His fingers trail up your thigh, slipping under the fabric of your dress before digging into your skin slightly. He presses forward, slotting a knee between your legs, and your breathing quickens. His eyes are watching you as his fingers find the hem of your panties on your hip, and he twists the string of delicate lace around his knuckle. 

“Now this feels like something you were hoping someone would take off of you tonight. That the case, love?” 

You swallow hard. 

“You want me to take these off of you?” 

“No.” 

He pulls his hand away immediately, clearly thinking he’s misread things, but you lock your fingers around his wrist. His eyes find yours in the darkness, the question in them apparent.

“I want you to make me cum with them on.” 

His trademark smirk reappears, his fingers slipping back under your dress, drifting between your legs to press your clit through the thin fabric. He’s more sure of himself now, more certain you want this, and as much as you hate it, you absolutely fucking do. 

“All worked up just from thinking about me? You’re practically soaked,” he murmurs. 

“You talk a lot,” you mutter. 

He chuckles against your ear. “I think you like when I talk.” His fingers find the hem of your panties between your legs, and you feel him push the lacy fabric aside, tracing through your dripping folds. “I think you like hearing all the ways that I think about fucking you, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.” His first finger finds its way inside you, and you gasp, hitching one leg over his hip as your hands fly to his shoulders to find purchase. Gregor’s watching you as your lips part, your head thunking back against the wall as he slips a second finger inside you. 

“That’s it, love. Let go for me. Let me take care of you.” 

“I really don’t like you,” you try to snarl, but it comes out more of a whine. 

He chuckles. “I think you want to dislike me, but that’s becoming more difficult.” 

Your reply dies on your tongue, replaced by a gasp. His fingers are so thick and deliciously calloused. When they finally find that spongy place inside you, you dig your teeth into your lower lip to stifle a moan. He crowds you further against the wall, bearing down on that place inside you. “None of that now. Let me hear you.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I might let you if you’re nicer,” he teases.

You dig your nails into the back of his neck, and he gasps lightly before he nudges the strap of your dress aside with his nose and bites down on the flesh of your shoulder. You groan out his name. 

“Gregor.” 

“That’s right. You like this, don’t you? Being back here where anyone could see you falling apart on my fingers.”

You suddenly become aware of just how exposed you are, and in spite of yourself, it thrills you. Glancing back over at the table, you see the boys are all still seated and chattering away, completely oblivious as to what’s going on. You’re mostly glad they’re not paying attention. 

Mostly. 

Gregor notes where your gaze has drifted. “You want them to watch, hm? I could call the others over. Have them see you finally get what you deserve.” You whimper, clenching around his fingers as he slips a third one in. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You’re filthy, love. Maybe another time. Right now, I want you all to myself.” 

You’re practically riding his palm right now, the man you’ve hated for months, but Maker above, you’re not about to stop. There’s something so deliciously obscene about how you never could have predicted this moment, and yet, here you were, fueled by need and anger and something else you can’t quite place. The music is faint enough back in this corner that you can hear the obscene wet noises coming from between your legs. You’re both sweating, foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces. 

“Gregor, I’m close.” It might be the first time you’ve said his name without a snarl tacked onto the last syllable.

“I know you are, love. Be good for me and soak my hand, yeah?” 

You glare at him with heated eyes, mustering your last bit of defiance. “Make me.” 

He sucks at the place just below your ear. “With pleasure.” With that, he presses against your clit with his thumb, circling slowly with just the perfect amount of pressure. Your mind goes fuzzy, teetering on the brink as he buries his face in your neck, panting against your sweaty skin. Your eyes rove the bar around you once more as Gregor’s thumb presses more firmly against the bundle of nerves between your legs. No one near you is paying any attention to you, mostly focused on their own partners, but a pair of piercing brown eyes draw your attention, and you lock gazes with Crater from across the bar. 

He must have gotten sidetracked or decided to have one more drink away from his men as he closed out his tab, but either way, there he is, seemingly watching you ride Gregor’s fingers. His expression doesn’t change as your eyes find his. He brings his glass to his lips, his gaze unwavering as he surveys you. You’re not even absolutely certain he’s looking at you in this dimly lit mass of bodies, but you think he is, and that’s enough to send you flying towards the edge of your orgasm. You cum hard, your vision whiting out as you topple over the precipice. Gregor presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your scream, and you bite down on his bottom lip as you ride out your high. When the aftershocks have finally subsided, you slump against the wall as Gregor pulls his hand from between your legs. He holds you up, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pants against your skin. 

Glancing back at the bar, you note Crater’s gone. If he was even actually there in the first place. 

“I… still don’t like you,” you mutter between gulps of air.  

He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”

When your breathing finally steadies and your legs become usable again, he stands back, watching you as you straighten your clothes. You try to recompose yourself, smoothing your hair, and he grins. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Looks like I won that bet.” He kisses you on the cheek, which infuriatingly makes your face flush with heat. You glare at him as he turns to leave, but you grab his arm again. In spite of months of derision and grumbled comments, you want more. 

And you want it now.

His expression is puzzled, and you relish in it as you step closer to grip his rock-hard length on the outside of his pants, making him gasp. You whisper directly into his ear, ensuring only he’ll hear. 

“Wait five minutes and then follow me outside. I’ll have a cab waiting.” 

“What for?” 

You kiss him, running your tongue over the inside of his lip before patting his cheek, enjoying the way he groans and the surprised look on his face. 

“Double or nothing. But this time you can't use your hands.”

With that, you turn on your heel, heading back towards the table. Your fingers wander nervously over the fabric of your dress, ensuring there’s no wrinkle or strap out of place that would give away what happened in that dark corner. You pull your hair over one shoulder, hoping it covers the stinging mark where Gregor’s teeth found purchase against your skin. Chuckles glances up as you get closer, his eyes seemingly taking in everything you’d hoped to hide, but his expression doesn’t change. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you try to meet his gaze with a level stare of your own. 

“Everything alright, Bolts?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking I’ll head out. Got a long one tomorrow.” 

“Want me to walk you home?”

“No. I mean, I’m good. But thank you. Don’t want to be a bother.” 

Chuck nods. 

“We all good here then? Don’t need me to settle up anything?” you ask.

Chuckles grins. “All good, but we’re even now, right?”

You smirk. “You wish, bud. You owe me at least two more nights like this before I’d call us even.” 

The pilot rolls his eyes, but you wink before making your way back through the crowd and out the front door of the bar. 

The night air is chilly, or at least it makes you shiver as the breeze hits your sweaty skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, eyeing the area where taxis usually could be flagged down. There’s a large crowd gathered, and apparently, it’s a slow night with the cabs. You shift your weight on your feet nervously, weighing your options. You’d rather not stand in a crowd with Gregor. Your cunt throbs between your legs, still slick from the orgasm the commando wrenched from you, and still craving more. There’s a moment of sharp clarity where you realize what just occurred, what you’ve propositioned. You pause to consider it. 

Yes, you’ve always disliked Gregor for whatever imagined slights you’ve clung to, but you’ve just allowed him to pleasure you better than any lovers in recent memory, perhaps ever. And he followed through on his promise, and has seemingly agreed to do it again, wrenching another orgasm from you. If he was actually a sleamo, you’d have never let him touch you, and now, your mind really tries to pinpoint what it is about him that’s always pissed you off. He’s good looking, and he knows it, and he’s always been able to read you, seemingly finding the most annoying places to press into. Well, until he found a very different sort of place to press against tonight, one that made your legs tremble and your nerves flare with electricity. You still can’t quite put your finger on what it is about him that makes you angry, but you’re definitely certain about the reasons you want him to fuck you now.

It was unexpected, impulsive, almost taboo, and that made it more thrilling. And him being so eager to pull another orgasm from you? Well, that’s new. Even with your shared history, you’ve never met a man so focused on you, and deep down, you like the attention. Even if it is Gregor.

You turn back towards the club, and see the lanky commando just exiting. As much as you’d love to take him back to your apartment and fuck in a real bed, something about it seems too intimate, even with your revelations. In your mind, it’s almost some sort of concession, admitting that you’ve enjoyed him enough to be vulnerable, to allow him into your space. And that’s not something you’re ready for, at least not yet. You just want a release. Well, more than the one he’s already given you, and you’re not feeling patient enough to wait for a cab. You lock eyes with him, jerking your head towards one of the alleys. 

He seems to take your cue, following behind you as you stride in between the two buildings, picking your way around a few couples that seemed to have the same idea. You’re pretty sure one of them is that ARC with the tattoo on his temple from the 501st, but it’s hard to tell with the way he’s bent over the woman he’s fucking against the wall. As you walk past, she moans out “Fives,” and confirms your suspicions. A sharp thrill of anticipation snakes through you. 

Gregor might fuck you like that in a minute. 

You think he might grab your hand to lead you through the alley, but he allows you to lead, hovering just half a step behind you without touching you. And that almost seems to make the space between you fizzle with anticipation. As soon as you get far enough past the other pairs to give yourselves a semblance of privacy, you finally feel warm hands snake around your waist. Gregor spins you, pinning you against the wall. You hiss as the cool bricks scrape against your bare shoulder blades, but it’s more from surprise than anything else. 

“What do you want, love?” Gregor asks, hands already wandering your body. The lighting out here is only a little better than inside 79s, but the shadows work in his favor, sharpening his features and somehow making his eyes more piercing. 

Karking hells, he’s hot.

“I want you to fuck me hard against this wall until I cum as many times as I need to,” you gasp, arching into his touch as he squeezes your breast over your dress. 

The corner of his mouth lifts into a triumphant smirk, one that would normally make you snarl at him, but he’s already got you unraveling. “Yeah? I think I can do that. Just gotta help me get ready.” He guides your hand between his legs, and you feel his cock through his pants again. He’s softened a little in the last few minutes since you’d separated, and while you could probably get him hard again just by stroking him, you want to turn the tables and get him back on his heels a bit. 

You want to wipe that smirk off of his stupidly handsome face. You want him to whimper for you.

Pushing him away from you, you squat down, carefully balancing on your toes, and start working to free his cock from his pants. Luckily, he’d opted to not wear any armor above his knees tonight, and it only takes a moment to fish out your prize. He’s long, and so thick and warm in your grasp. You feel your mouth watering already at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

“Oh, Maker, Bolts. Is that what you want?” he asks, and you feel his cock twitch against your palm. 

You say nothing, glaring up at him before you slip him past your lips. You groan as you taste him, tracing his shaft and flicking at the head of his cock with your tongue. Gregor’s mouth falls open slightly, and he gives you exactly what you’d hoped for, a whine high in his throat. You take him deeper, relishing in the way he stretches your jaw, even as his head brushes the back of your throat. With watering eyes, you drag your tongue along the bottom of him, pulling back enough to wrap your fingers around his length, twisting as you take him again. Gregor hisses out a curse between clenched teeth, and you hum, smirking around your mouthful. The commando stares down at you, clinging to what’s left of his composure. 

“Now love, I thought the rule was no hands?” he scolds breathlessly, reaching down to grab both of your wrists. He pins them against the wall with one of his massive hands, stepping closer and thrusting gently into your mouth. Your head rests against the wall, and all you can do is open your jaw wider to accommodate him as he presses even closer. He keeps your hands pinned against the wall, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Squeeze if it’s too much, but I’m not going to go easy. Not with the way you’ve run that mouth at me.” He’s teasing, and you raise an eyebrow, grazing him with your teeth. He reaches down, gripping your jaw firmly. 

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he grits out darkly, and you shiver at how the hoarse, lighthearted rasp of his voice has turned to a deep gravel that promises to ruin you. Without further preamble, Gregor snaps his hips into you until you choke. He watches you for a moment, and when you don’t squeeze his hand, he starts fucking your mouth without abandon. You focus on breathing through your nose as he drives his cock into your throat, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, trying to find the place that’ll make him come undone. Tears stream from your eyes, surely ruining your makeup, and rivulets of saliva slide over your lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. Gregor’s too far gone to note your efforts with your tongue, swearing under his breath as he uses you. 

And as much as you dislike him, you love this.

Even if you’ll never admit it. 

You can feel your pulse between your legs, and your pussy is begging for some sort of stimulation. You flex your wrists experimentally to see if you’ll be allowed one hand to touch yourself with, but Gregor tightens his grip. 

“That greedy little cunt is going to have to wait,” he rasps, glancing down at your pleading eyes with the smuggest expression imaginable. “I’m going to get my credits worth out of your mouth first.” With that, he pushes to the back of your throat, burying your nose in the dark curls at his base, and he holds you there. Your vision blurs with tears, and he’s cut off your air, but fuck you love it. 

You feel his thumb trace your hand, reminding you that you can squeeze anytime to have him release you, but tapping out at this point would mean letting him win, and you’re not about to do that. 

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as a thick string of spit connects the two of you. You gasp and choke as you try to catch your breath, but Gregor is already pulling you to your feet, spinning you to face the wall and pushing your dress up and your panties to the side. Your knees protest as pins and needles snake down your calves where the blood flow was cut off in your squatting position, but you don’t have time to complain as Gregor kicks your feet apart, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“You ready to cum on my cock, love?” 

Your voice feels rough as you reply. “We’ll see if you can make me.” 

Gregor pulls the strap of your dress off your shoulder, freeing your breast, which he immediately grabs, pinching your nipple. In spite of yourself, your head falls back against his shoulder as you try to press the tender flesh into his palm. He squeezes roughly as he takes your earlobe in his teeth, chuckling. 

“Oh, I’ll make sure you can still feel me all day tomorrow. And that you’ll be back for more.”

The snarled retort is on the tip of your tongue when he sheathes himself fully in you in one stroke, and it’s strangled by the high-pitched gasp that rips out of you. Gregor crowds you against the wall, practically lifting you up on your toes with every thrust. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you’re certain of that with how he’s stretching you out, carving out his place inside of you with every snap of his hips. Your breasts press against the cool, rough brick, and normally, you’d complain that it was uncomfortable, but Gregor’s cock hits a place inside you that makes you cry out loudly, and the pleasure overshadows the pain. 

“Shhh, love,” Gregor coos in your ear. “Gonna attract an audience. Unless that’s what you want?”

“Thought y-you liked hearing me,” you gasp.

“Inside was louder. Out here, everyone can hear you mewling.”

You place your palms against the wall, digging your teeth into your lip to try and keep your moans locked inside you. Gregor shifts his grip on your hips, reaching up to splay his massive palm against your breast, his other hand trailing between your legs. You regain enough brainpower to swat it away. 

“No hands,” you snarl.

He huffs a laugh, redoubling his efforts. “Fine then. We’ll be here longer, so you’ll really have to stay quiet.” He purposefully bottoms out, and you moan before you can stop yourself. “You’re so loud, Bolts,” he teases, bearing down on the place inside of you that’s making your legs tremble beneath you. “I suppose I can help with that.” 

His hand slides over your mouth, and you think he’s just going to muffle your screams, but instead, he slides three fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You whine, and he chuckles, driving into you. You want to make a comment about how loud his hips are slapping against your ass, how the wet sounds of your cunt are echoing down the alley, how Gregor’s panting and grunting in your ear, and you certainly would if the pads of his fingers weren’t pressing against your tongue. You realize those are the same fingers that touched you earlier, that found the place his cock has now discovered, and you can still taste traces of your orgasm on his callouses. He hooks the corner of your lip, pulling the corner of your mouth down enough to allow a trail of saliva to slither over his knuckles. 

“Sloppy little thing,” he mutters, and you moan. The brick scratches against your chest and palms as he pushes you harder against the wall, using it to pin you in place as he takes you roughly. You feel eyes on you, and turning your head as much as you can manage, you find the gaze of the woman that Fives is fucking. The ARC trooper is on his knees now, his face hidden under her skirt, one of her legs draped over his pauldron. The woman’s braced against the wall, her sharp purple eyes watching you with interest as her fingers snake through Fives’s curls. It’s hard for you to tell in the dark, but you’re almost certain Fives is stroking himself as he lavishes her cunt with attention, his arm moving in a repetitive motion as he groans quietly. The woman winks at you, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips before Fives pulls a moan from her.

“Knew you’d like an audience,” Gregor rasps. “Now, let’s give them a show.” His hand leaves your breast, disappearing for a moment before he brings it down in a stinging slap across your ass. Your eyes roll back into your head as the pain courses through your veins, blossoming to pleasure under Gregor’s warm palm. He lands another blow to your other cheek, and this time, you can’t help but scream around his digits. Your cunt spasms around his cock, and you know you’re close, so close. 

“Your pussy’s going to choke me, love,” Gregor moans. “Better finish you off before you milk me dry.” 

“T-tfhh eeee,” you mumble around his fingers. 

You know he’s grinning behind you. 

“What was that?” 

You bite his finger gently, and he yanks his hand loose, spanking you again. 

“Touch m-me,” you demand once you regain your breath. 

“Now, you said no hands was the rule. And I intend to comply.” 

“I know what the fuck I said,” you snap. 

He readjusts, and somehow, he hits the perfect place. Your eyes cross and you think your legs might give out. You moan, your forehead resting against the brick as you try to not move, hoping he’ll strike the same place again. 

“Ask nicely,” Gregor whispers mockingly. 

Your resolve and animosity crumbles to ash as he strokes the same place inside you again.

“Please,” you beg. “I’m so close. Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Oh, I love hearing you beg like that,” Gregor groans. You expect him to tease you more, dangling you over the edge as you whine and thrash helplessly, but he relents, slipping his hand between your legs and easily finding your clit, which he presses against with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Say ‘thank you, Gregor,’ and I’ll let you cum.” 

Fuck, you despise this man. He’s embedded himself under your skin for no discernible reason, and yet, you’ve let him touch you and pleasure you and fuck you, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to scrub this night from your mind. You’re going to want this again, no matter how much you push against it, and knowing that Gregor’s a willing participant, even if you’re ready to scream every curse you can think of at him right now, well, that makes it even easier to allow it to happen again. 

If he’ll just let you finish. 

He slows the roll of his hips, and you groan in frustration. Your desperation is clouding your mind at this point, and as you feel the finish line of your orgasm slipping away, you become frantic. He’s dangled you long enough, and after months and months of not having anything but your toys to sate you, you’ll allow yourself this small humiliation in order to get what you want. 

“Please. Please, let me cum. I’ll say anything you want.” 

He snickers, snapping his hips again, and you’re immediately back on the edge, tingling with anticipation as your entire body thrums with pleasure. You hate how easily he’s got you figured, how quickly he shoves you back to the precipice, and how smug he’s going to be about it. 

You’ll be mad later. Right now, you can’t be bothered to care.

He leans closer, and you know what he’s waiting for. 

 “Thank you for fucking me like this, Gregor.” 

His fingers press harder against your clit just as the tip of his cock slams into the spot no one else has ever come close to reaching. You claw at the wall in front of you as your vision whites out once more, and you feel him pull out of you, expending ropes of his seed across the curves of your ass. 

He doesn’t let you fall, his hands flying to your waist and his weight pinning you in place against the wall as your knees threaten to crumble underneath you. His hold is much gentler than it was a moment ago, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as he recovers. 

“That was fun,” he pants, and you can practically hear his mouth curling into a grin, but somehow, it’s not as smug as you thought it’d be. “We should do it again some time.”

“Not if you’re going to make a mess of me before sending me home,” you mutter, glancing around for something to wipe the quickly-cooling spend off of you. 

“Allow me.” 

You feel fabric wipe across your ass, and turning, you see Gregor tucking the soiled edge of his shirt back into his pants along with his cock. He shrugs when you raise an eyebrow. 

“I imagine that wouldn’t be very comfortable in the cab home.”

“You imagine correctly.”

You stand there staring at one another for a moment awkwardly in the now-empty alley, Fives and his companion having finished their encounter and disappeared. This entire thing was unexpected to say the least, and neither of you know what comes next. You break into nervous laughter, straightening your panties and dress. 

“I like your smile. Don’t get to see it very often.” 

In spite of yourself, heat flushes across your face. You reach up to fix your hair, and a warm hand cups your cheek. You lock eyes with Gregor, and he’s staring at you so gently you almost forget how much you dislike him. 

Almost.

“Don’t you even think of kissing me.” 

“We already kissed.”

He has a point, but of course you won’t give any more ground. “I’d hardly call that a kiss.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough.” He reaches out, brushing some of your hair back into place. It’s surprising, and fuck, your treacherous heart clenches just a bit at the tenderness of the gesture. It’s not because you’ve suddenly developed feelings for him, but you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like that, so gentle and warm.  

It hasn’t been that long. And you’re not that desperate for affection. Just for a good fuck. 

And this was a good fuck.

You survey him for another moment as he rubs the back of his neck. “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he offers. 

“Do I look worried?”

“You look uneasy.” He smirks. “Although maybe it’s because the man you loathe made you cum. Twice.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes. Gregor steps closer, straightening the strap on your dress. “I meant what I said. I’d do it again. If you’d like.” 

His brown eyes lock onto yours, and you consider it. Your shoulders do feel like they’ve dropped away from your ears, some of the tension you’ve been carrying for as long as you can remember seemingly vanished. And you feel like your fuse isn’t as short. Even the steady thrum of annoyance that you’ve felt tearing through you since the moment you laid eyes on Gregor seems to have abated slightly. 

No one would suspect it since we hate each other. No expectations. Just sex. Really good sex. 

I could use really good sex.

“I suppose I could tolerate you doing that when you’re planetside,” you concede. “But no one else finds out. And this is just sex.”

“Just sex,” he agrees, extending his hand to seal the deal. “Shake on it?”

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble, stepping past him, leaving his hand hanging in the air. He catches your waist from behind, pulling you back against him. 

“Don’t forget this idiot that knows how your pussy feels wrapped around his cock. Now, are you going to give me your comm?” 

“Fuck off. You know where to find me when you get back,” you mutter, ignoring the way your thighs are clenching together again at his words. 

Get it the fuck together. 

“True. Since you never leave that garage,” he snickers. Before you can protest, he pecks a kiss to your temple and gently pushes you forward by your ass, squeezing the curve of it a little. You stumble a bit, shooting him a glare over your shoulder. 

“Get home safe, Bolts,” he says quietly. In spite of everything, he’s being sincere. And that’s nice.

You pause. “Yeah. You too.” 

His smirk fades and his gaze softens at your words, but he quickly slips his default expression back into place. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a two-fingered salute, and you roll your eyes again before walking off to find a cab.

“KARKING HELLS, CHUCK! Do you have mynock shit between your ears instead of brains?” 

You’re angry. Angrier than you’ve been in a while. And Chuckles isn’t backing down either. 

“I don’t know who the kriff you think you’re talking to, Bolts, but you’d better take a walk before we both say something we’ll regret,” he grits out, teeth clenched and a fire in his eyes. 

But you’re not about to be told what’s what. Not when he’s on your turf. 

“It’s my fucking garage. You don’t like what I’ve got to say? You take a walk.” You jab your finger into his plastoid chestplate threateningly. His nostrils flare as he glares at you, and you can see him teetering on the edge of control.

You’ve gathered a bit of an audience as you and the mohawked clone pilot go nose to nose, some of which are snickering and “ooooh”-ing. 

“Your garage?” Chuckles snarls.

“Yeah, in case you missed it, I run shit around here. And I’m telling you I can’t get your fucking fighter fixed until next week.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“You should have thought about that before smoking your stabilizers flying like a fucking hotshot.” 

“You sure you wanna tell me how to fly my ship, Bolts?” 

“Since you don’t seem to have an idea how to, sure.” 

The vein in his neck is bulging now, and the scar at the corner of his mouth is pulled tight. You’ve known Chuckles long enough to tell that you’ve pushed all the right buttons to get a rise out of him.

Good. Asshole. 

“I thought Gregor fucked the grump out of her,” Strike mutters from his seat on a crate, which garners more snickers. You whirl on him, brandishing a wrench and waving it menacingly at the pilot. 

“You want me to fix your face next, shithead? Got the only thing I need for that right here.”

Strike scowls, pushing himself to a standing position. “You’re out of line, Bolts.” 

“I’m out of line? Fuck you.”

“That’s enough.” 

The jeers and laughter grow silent and the crowd parts as the commanding officer of the 28th Combat Wing strides forward, carrying his helmet under one arm. Crater’s voice is gruff as he steps in between Chuckles and you, glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“She’s right, and you know it Chuckles. You’ve been told before not to fly in that config. You know it burns out the stabs faster. Now, I’m sure you’ll get your fighter as quickly as Bolts can get to it. Isn’t that right, Bolts?” 

You glare at him, but his eyes demand a response. “When I get the parts.” 

Crater watches you for another moment before nodding. He seems to understand that’s as much of a concession as he’s going to get out of you right now.

And then he whirls on Strike. “And you will learn to hold your fucking tongue. We don’t do that shit here. You want to air other people’s business out in front of everyone? You go run for the fucking senate. Until then, you keep the scuttlebutt you hear to yourself.”

“Didn’t hear anything. Just not hard to put two and two together,” Strike mutters under his breath. 

Crater strides forward until he’s looming over Strike. They’re the same height, but somehow, the captain towers over the other pilot. His tone is low and dangerous, his voice dropping to a gravelly octave that makes you shiver. “I know you haven’t been off of Kamino long, but around here, you don’t speak to a commanding officer that way. Especially when you don’t have a single scratch on that shiny fucking armor.” 

Strike swallows slightly but says nothing else. 

Crater glares down at him for one more second, pinning him with his gaze before he turns and addresses the rest of the onlookers. “Now all of you get to the fucking barracks and get cleaned up. You stink to the seven hells.” 

The squad departs, some of them still shooting dirty looks over their shoulders at you, especially Chuckles.

He’ll get over it.

You turn on your heel, heading towards your private office in the corner of the garage. The door’s been off track for a while, so you slam it open unceremoniously and stride inside. Just as you go to slide it shut with a grunt, a gloved hand slips around the edge, keeping it open. You glance up and meet Crater’s eyes. 

“Can we talk?” 

You shrug, stepping away from the door and plopping down on the creaky chair by your desk. The joints protest as you lean back in it, threatening to finally give out and dump you on your ass. Crater shuts the door behind him before setting his helmet on your desk and leaning a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms as he studies you. He looks tired, and you’re not sure if it’s the campaign he just got back from or his men or you. A small pang of guilt shoots through you as he meets your eyes, raising his scarred eyebrow at you.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?” 

You sniff, shrugging as you pick some lint off your jumpsuit. “Nothin’. Just a scuffle.”

“Seems like you’re getting into more and more of those.” 

You and Crater have always gotten along just fine, finding a mutual respect and trust almost immediately. He always seems to have everything figured out, and you’ve never seen him fly off the handle like some of his brothers. In fact, the incident in the garage just now is the most upset you’ve seen him, and even that was hardly more than a growl and a few threats. You admire his leadership. He always seems to find the right thing to say to each of the various personalities on his squad, but sometimes you dislike when he deploys the same understanding on you. It unnerves you to a degree. 

Now, you roll your eyes at his observation, astute as it is. “Your boys don’t listen, Crate. Neither do any of the other flyboys that come through here. Everyone’s shit is broken because they can’t be bothered to fly with an ounce of sensibility, and then they’re all pissed when it takes time to get repairs done.” You wave your hand at the stacks of datapads and flimsi that are stacked on your desk. “I’ve got backorders on backorders, out-of-date maintenance logs, you name it. But I’m one person. And there’s not exactly a line to come work down here.” 

“You’re stressed,” he notes. 

“No shit.” 

“Overwhelmed.” 

“Tired of giving orders and making requests that are ignored.” 

“Tired of being in charge?”

“Sometimes. Yeah,” you admit. “But someone has to be.”

He nods. “When’s Gregor planetside again?” 

You glare at him, but he gives you a knowing look. You sigh. “Who the kriff knows? That’s not a regular thing, by the way. Just a way to blow off steam. But it’s been months since I saw him last. Seems he’s being kept busy.” You worry about the commando sometimes, but you’re not about to admit it. Judging by the look Crater gives you, you don’t need to. 

“And you were more tolerable when it was happening,” he teases.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m on my own in that department for the foreseeable future.” 

You don’t know why you feel comfortable talking with him about Gregor. Probably because it felt less like an accusation and more of just a concerned observation, not like he was looking to get more gossip at your expense. 

Because you trust him. Maybe too much.

Crater is quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, clearly weighing something. 

“What?”

He smirks. 

“Well, if you’d ever like to blow off some steam, let me know. But you can’t keep taking it out on my men.” 

You snort out a laugh. “Crate, I don’t think you can help with that.” 

“Oh, I think I could.” 

“How so?” Your curiosity is piqued, particularly with the way his grin is playful but his eyes have darkened considerably. You’re in denial internally about what he might be implying, but that only lasts for another second as Crater huffs a quiet laugh before closing the distance between you. He puts one gloved hand on your desk, leaning over you as his other hand comes to rest just above your shoulder, gripping the back of your chair. Your stomach flutters as he stares down at you, tilted back in your chair so far you feel as though you’d tip over if he let go. The chair creaks, but you hardly note it over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You can feel his breath on your cheek and your cunt throbs at the realization he’s standing between your knees, your toes barely touching the floor with the way he has you tipped backward. You feel as though you can’t breathe. He’s studying you again, clearly making a final judgment call before he speaks. 

“I think you’d like someone else to take charge for once. So you can let go.” 

His voice is so low, it feels as though it rumbles every organ in you and sends shivers down your spine. He’s so close, you can smell him, see the tattoos on his neck that just barely poke out above the collar of his black undersuit, and the greys that are beginning to dot his dark chestnut beard and hair. You’ve always thought Crater was attractive. You’d have to be blind not to, but you’d never anticipated having him lean over you like this, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he suggests things like that. 

At least, you think that’s what he’s suggesting. 

You can’t help but tremble slightly at the thought as his eyes bore holes into yours. Your thighs clench together subconsciously, and his eyes dart downwards, watching you squirm. He laughs in a low rasp that promises trouble, straightening and picking his helmet up off the desk. You haven’t moved, but he’s already at your door, pushing it open again. 

“Remember what I said, Bolts. All of it.” 

And with that, he’s gone. 

—

Weeks pass. Nothing gets better. If anything, things get worse. A major supply hyperspace lane gets shut down by Separatist forces, meaning parts are even harder to come by, causing even more delays. At least the clone pilots seem more understanding, the 28th Wing in particular. You aren’t sure if Crater privately met with his men, but they have been suddenly more lenient with you. The natborns, however, make up for it by being infinitely more terrible. 

“THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE,” one particularly surly human admiral rants, spittle flying unchecked as you don’t even bother looking up from your datapad. “You are to have those fighters ready to go within a rotation. That is an order.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, Admiral, I don’t take orders from the GAR,” you mutter. “And unless you’ve got a stash of converters, stabilizers, hyperdrive capacitors, and power couplings in your back pocket, no, your fighters will not be ready to go in a rotation.”

“I’ll have your job for this.” 

You’re exhausted, but can’t help but give him a smug smirk, nudging him even closer to an explosion. He’s easy prey in that respect, hardly sporting, but it’s been a miserable week, and you’re ready to have some fun. He’s not the first officer to try to intimidate you with unemployment, and you know he’s unlikely to be the last. But you also know it’s an empty threat. No one else could handle this work. If that person existed, the GAR would already have hired them since you’ve pissed off everyone else. 

“I have work to do, Admiral. So if you’re done bloviating, get out of my office and try to have a lovely evening.”

The man is practically purple with rage, veins bulging from his throat above his tight Republic collar. He clearly isn’t used to having people check him, and his response is even more telling. 

“I’d heard you were challenging, but really, you’re just a frigid little bitch.” 

That does it. 

You stand, kicking your seat away from you. It rolls into the back wall with a loud crash. “You wanna try that again, Admiral?” you ask, charging towards him with anger heating your cheeks. He’s taller than you, but that’s never stopped you, and you certainly aren’t going to let some washed-up asshole that reeks of stale caf and cheap cologne talk to you like that in your own office. His fists clench, and you almost hope he swings first so you have an excuse to pummel him right there. 

“Problem in here?” 

You both whirl to look at the doorway. There stands Crater, helmet on and cocked to the side as he studies the both of you. His posture is completely relaxed, as if he didn’t just walk in on the start of a physical altercation. 

It takes all of the wind out of your sails. 

The admiral turns and smirks down at you, clearly convinced he’s won by your reaction. “I was just leaving.” He pushes past Crater, exiting the office. Crater’s visor never leaves you, but you can’t look at him. 

You’re fuming. Angry that nothing’s going right. Angry that your garage can’t run efficiently and the reasons are completely out of your control. Angry that you didn’t sock that admiral in the jaw. Angry that he got the best of you and he knows it. 

Crater says your name, but you don’t look up, trying to slow your breathing. He sighs and turns to leave. 

You make a decision. 

“Captain.” 

He turns back. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you plunge into uncharted territory.

“I’ll take you up on that offer you made a few weeks back.” 

He doesn’t move for a moment before, clearly making sure you won’t change your mind. Some of your fire returns at his hesitation, and you jut your chin out defiantly. 

“Chickening out on me?” you challenge.

In an instant, he’s closed the distance between you and has backed you up against the wall. Your breath fogs his visor as he stares down at you, resting his hand against your throat. 

“You certain you want to be a brat right out of the gate?” 

You swallow hard, feeling the gloved palm of his hand press against your neck. 

“Might want to pace yourself. Otherwise you’ll be in for a long night,” he warns.

“What makes you think that isn’t what I was hoping for?”

He chuckles darkly, and the helmet’s modulator seems to make it even more intimidating. 

“What are your hard no’s?” 

“You’ll be hard-pressed to find them,” you reply. Your mouth is dry, but other places are already soaking. You’re almost glad he has you braced against the wall because your knees suddenly feel gelatinous beneath you. 

He tilts his head. “Think on it a bit more. Have an answer when I come back from my briefing. Then we’ll begin.” He releases your throat and steps back. “Be ready.” 

He once again leaves you alone in your office, shivering in his absence. 

How the fuck do I get ready for this?

You brush your hair out of your face, catching a glance at your reflection in the small mirror you have stuck to one wall. You’re covered in grease and sweat, and your hair is sticking out at odd angles. 

A shower then. 

You’re glad the day’s over as you slide your office door closed. It would be hard to concentrate on anything else right now. You push through the door that connects to the small apartment and refresher that have become your home away from home. It had been one of your few stipulations when you took the job, knowing you’d rarely make it back down to your lower-level Coruscant apartment. It had originally been a large storage closet, but with some work, you’d converted it into a decent-sized bedroom, stacking a few changes of clothes in an empty crate in one corner. The bed was at least comfortable, tucked up against one wall with a small bedside table next to it. You quickly shove the dirty clothes strewn on the floor in a corner before shucking off your jumpsuit and hurriedly showering. You don’t have any sort of lingerie or anything remotely alluring here, and you’re considering what to wear while wrapped in a towel when you hear a soft knock at your door. 

You turn and find Crater’s silhouette looming there, blocking out the dim light of your office. 

“That was a quick briefing.”

He shrugs as if he’s used to coming upon you in only a towel. 

“You shut the office door?” you ask.

“Yes. And you should really get that fixed.” His helmet is off, and his dark eyes are roving over you and your towel-covered body. 

“Add it to my list,” you mutter, trying to maintain some sort of confidence under his stare. “I’m sure that admiral will be so pleased to hear it takes priority over his fighters.” 

He snorts in amusement as he steps into the room, shutting the apartment door behind him. He sets the helmet on the ground before he starts peeling off the top half of his armor, one piece of plastoid at a time, and neatly stacking it in the corner. 

“Did you think more on what your hard no’s are?” he asks. 

You’d come up with a few and rattle them off. 

“Those are fairly extreme. Don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” he rasps. The top half of his armor is completely off now, and he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt as he approaches you, circling you slowly. “But I’m glad you put serious thought into it and came up with something.” 

“You got anything I need to avoid doing?” you ask, trying not to nervously rock on your heels. You’d rarely had issues with people seeing you naked, but for some reason, Crater’s gaze has you feeling timid, even with the towel still hiding your body.

“I don’t think you’ll get there, but I’ll let you know if you get close,” he replies as he comes to a stop in front of you. His sleeves are rolled all the way to his elbows, and you can see the tendrils of the other end of his tattoos poking out on his forearms. You’d never realized how far his tattoos stretched, only ever having seen the fine lines that poked out of the collar of his shirt. Now, you find you want to know how much of his skin is inked and how far the pattern stretches. 

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.” 

You flush, but raise your eyes to meet his steady gaze. He’s watching you carefully and fuck, you want to squirm with him looking at you like that. 

“So you respond to praise then. You prefer that?”

You shrug. “Could go both ways.”

“Where would you like me to cum?”

You can’t help but smirk at that question, but his expression is stern. “Wherever you like,” you reply. “I’ve got an implant.”

He hums, gently brushing some of your damp hair out of your face, a tender gesture that contrasts sharply with his next question. “May I mark you?” 

“Nowhere the jumpsuit can’t cover.”

“How rough would you like me to be?” 

You think for a moment. “Breathplay is good. Impact too. Bruising is fine. Nothing that would draw blood.” 

He smirks. “Good girl.” 

Your thighs rub together, and he notices, huffing a quiet laugh. 

“Toys I can use?”

You point to the bedside table. “In that drawer.” 

“You know the color system?”

You nod.

“Give me your definitions.” 

“Green is good. Yellow is slow down. Red is stop.” 

“And if you can’t verbally communicate?”

“Three taps.” You reach out and demonstrate on his chest, letting your fingertips rest there.

He catches your hand. “I want to be very clear here. You are under no obligation to do anything with me. And if you say red, we stop. No debate, no questions. This is for your benefit, so I’ll push, but when I hit a limit, you have to let me know. Deal?”

You can’t help but smile there. “Deal.”

“Any other last requests?”

“Ruin me.” The words fall out of your mouth before you realize you’ve said them, but you don’t regret them. You need this, and he can see it. Crater’s eyes darken even more, and he grins wickedly as he pulls your wrist to his lips. You feel his beard scratch your skin, and you shiver at the thought of where else you may feel that sensation before the night is over. 

“With pleasure.” He cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lower lip. “You will refer to me as Captain or sir. Understood?”

A thrill shoots through you, and you push your luck, shrugging. “Sure.”

His nostrils flare and his grip on your jaw tightens. “You are such a fucking brat,” he whispers. “I'll fix that.” He grips the towel, giving it a firm yank and tossing it in the corner. He steps back and studies you. You shiver again, although you can’t be sure if it’s from the chill on your damp skin or his piercing gaze. He circles you again, inspecting every inch of your body. You feel yourself tremble slightly as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “On your knees.” 

You think about pushing him further, but decide against it, at least for the moment, slowly sinking to your knees and gazing up at him expectantly. 

“Open your mouth.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. He squats down in front of you, balancing on the balls of his feet, watching you. You start to giggle from nerves, but his hand rockets out, catching your jaw again and squeezing until your lips part from the pressure.

He slips the tip of his glove into your mouth. 

“Bite,” he grits out. 

He loosens his hold just enough for you to do as you’re told this time, gently taking the tip of the fabric between your teeth. His fingers slip out of the glove, and he takes it from you. He repeats the exercise with his other glove, tucking them both in his back pocket. Warm tan fingers press on your lower lip, and you open your mouth, allowing him in. Two fingers slide in, pressing on your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth, but Crater keeps your jaw pried open until you feel some drool slide down your chin. 

“Messy girl,” he rasps. “Suck.” 

You close your lips around his fingers, sucking gently on the pads. You can taste his sweat, slightly salty against your tongue. 

“Oh, come on, gorgeous. With a mouth like that, I expected more. You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you suck my cock later.” 

You feel your cunt throb and you inhale sharply as warmth floods between your legs. You’re certain you’re dripping onto the floor by now, and it’s only been a few minutes. 

“You like that thought, don’t you?” Crater asks, shoving his fingers into the back of your throat. You gag, and he starts to withdraw, but you catch his wrist, pressing his fingers deeper while you run your tongue over his knuckles. 

Crater’s brow furrows and his lips part slightly as he watches you gag again on his fingers, but you keep going, obediently sliding them in and out of your mouth. You hum around him, and you can see he’s fighting to maintain control. You grin. 

“Something to say, pretty girl?” he asks, shoving another finger into your mouth. “Go on.” 

“Having fun, Captain?” is what you try to ask, but it comes out garbled around his digits. 

“Try again, gorgeous. I can’t understand you.” 

You glare up at him and he smirks before withdrawing his fingers. 

“I was always told it’s rude to talk with my mouth full, sir,” you snark. 

“You’ve had no problem being rude up until this point,” he murmurs, letting his damp hand trail across your collarbone before grazing your breast. 

You clench around nothing. It's been months since anyone touched you. 

He notices your response, raising his eyebrow as he pinches one nipple between his fingers and tugs it gently. You whimper quietly. 

“Needy,” he observes. 

“Been a while.” He pinches your nipple harder. “Sir,” you gasp. 

“Hmm.” He releases you, pushing himself to a standing position. You shift, trying to gain some source of friction, but he slips a knuckle under your chin, tilting your head upwards. “None of that. You take what I give, and nothing more. Understood?” 

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Yes, sir.” 

Crater stares down at you with an unamused expression for another half a beat before releasing you. He crosses your room to your nightstand and pulls open the drawer, rummaging inside. You can see his eyes raking over the contents, carefully cataloging everything before he holds up your plug, glancing over at you. 

“You stretch yourself on this?” 

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly. 

“Anyone ever taken you there?”

“No.” It’s something you’ve always wanted to try, but you’ve never had a partner you felt bold enough to ask. And those that have asked have always seemed too eager. So you’ve resorted to toys, stuffing your ass full with the plug as you fucked your cunt with another toy. But no matter how many times you came, teeth clenched around the fabric of your pillowcase, your curiosity about the real thing still wasn’t sated. You always knew it would have to be with someone you trust completely, someone you know won’t push you or your boundaries just to lay claim to you. 

Someone like Crater. 

He stays silent, clearly expecting more from you. 

You try to stutter out a more thorough response. “B-but I like to feel full when I…”

“When you what, pretty girl?” 

“When I fuck myself.” 

The corner of his lip curls. “Filthier than I thought. Good.” He takes out a bottle of lube, your dildo with the remote, and the plug and sits on the bed with them next to him. He leans forward on his knees, crooking a finger towards you. 

“Come here, gorgeous.” 

You grin, falling forward on your hands and crawling towards him, allowing your ass to sway back and forth. His face remains neutral as you slide between his knees, running your hands over the plastoid that still covers his thighs. You’ve always been good at finding the right buttons to push with people, but Crater has largely remained a mystery to you in all the time that you’ve known him. Now, you watch carefully as you scrape your fingers closer to his inner thigh, watching for any telltale twitch. You want to see if you can make him crack. 

He’s immovable. 

“You seem to think this is some sort of competition,” he says quietly, as though he can read your thoughts. “You won’t break me, sweetheart.” 

You pout your lips. “You’re no fun.” 

He slips one hand into your hair and grips tightly, pulling your head back as he leans over you again. You can feel the roots of your hair tug sharply, and it sends another thrill through you. Crater leans forward to whisper directly into your ear. His beard scrapes your cheek, and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “You’re still being a brat.”

“I thought pilots enjoyed a challenge,” you manage to gasp. 

“I do.” He releases your hair, and you sit back. He shifts back on the bed and pats his knees. You start to straddle one, but he places a hand on your hip, stilling you. “No, love. Over them.” 

Your legs quiver at the realization of what he’s asking, and your mouth falls open slightly. 

“Tick-tock, pretty girl. The longer you stand there and waste my time, the longer this’ll be.” 

You drape yourself over his thighs slowly, shuddering at the chill of the plastoid and how the edges of it bite into your skin. You rest your elbows and knees on the mattress on either side of him, balancing as he pushes down on the small of your back to arch it to his liking. Your ass is in the air, and it feels so exposed. Crater rubs small circles in your spine before allowing his hand to drift downward, lightly passing over the curve of your ass. You feel your skin explode in an array of goosebumps as a jolt shoots through you. You unleash a shuddering breath. 

“You are needy. So eager to be touched,” he teases as he traces down the curve of your ass, curling his fingers on the inside of your thigh. He’s so close to where you want him, but he steers clear of your dripping cunt. For now. 

“I think fifteen is a good start considering how you’ve behaved the last few weeks,” he rasps. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you have my cock.”

“Fifteen, huh? Can you count that high, Captain?” you ask, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your nipple with his other hand. You inhale sharply, biting back a curse. 

“Twenty then. And you’ll be the one counting. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, smart girl?” 

You open your mouth to retort, but the first smack lands hard, biting into the skin of your asscheek. Heat floods through you and your mouth falls open. 

You’re already craving another. 

“Count for me, or we start over.” 

“One,” you pant. 

He continues, landing some blows over the same area, and you can feel the heat and redness bloom there. Other times, he moves onto an untouched patch of skin, and the shock of sudden pain makes you squirm, desperate for some sort of friction against your neglected clit. It feels as though electricity is licking up your spine with every strike, the pain giving way to a euphoria you’ve never before experienced as his warm palm soothes your stinging skin in between each blow. 

But you keep count. 

“See, I knew you could be a good girl for me. You’re doing so well,” he whispers as he rubs the place you’re certain he just left a handprint. “Halfway there.” One hand curls around your thigh again, and you feel fingers finally brush against your folds, slipping along them with ease. “I see you’re enjoying yourself,” Crater observes. “You’re soaked.” He lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking your taste off of them before he lets his hand slip back between your legs, sinking two of his thick digits into you. You fist the blankets as the next blow lands at the same time Crater curls his fingers inside of you. 

“Ah fuck! Eleven!” 

Crater pulls out slightly out before pressing back into the knuckle, driving into you. He finds the spongy place inside of you and bears down on it as he spanks you again in the same place. Your eyes roll back into your head. 

“T-twelve.” 

“Good girl.”

SMACK.

“Thirteen,” you whine. The plastoid is so cold against your heated, sweaty skin as you writhe in his lap, trying to press back against his hand. He adds a third finger. 

“Who would have known all it took for you to be nicer was a few spanks and some fingers in your pussy?” Crater chuckles. “Such a desperate girl.” 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“Please what?” 

“More.” 

“So polite all of a sudden.” He presses against your asshole with his thumb, and you arch your back, pushing against him. “Oh, you want me to take you there, don’t you? Want me to claim your ass tonight?” 

You do. You want him to, and he knows it. You mouth a silent “yes” as you glance back at him, and his eyebrow raises at your muted admission.

Crater hums as he pushes harder against the tight ring of muscle and you gasp. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re gripping the sheets. 

“Color?”

“Green. Fuck. Green.” 

SMACK.

“FOURTEEN.” 

Your breath is coming in short pants as he rubs at the raised, tender flesh of your ass. You hear the click of a cap, and suddenly his thumb is pressed back against your asshole again, slicker than before. He pushes forward, breaching the tight ring of muscle as he curls his fingers in your cunt again. 

“Oh, Maker, yes. Right there, Crate-”

SMACK.

“It’s Captain or sir,” he reminds you in that same gravelly tone he used on Strike, sending a shiver through you. “Now what do we say when someone gives you what you want?”

“Fifteen! Thank you, sir,” you gasp, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.

“Good girl.” 

You clench around his fingers at the praise, and he huffs another laugh, pressing his thumb deeper into your ass. He lands the next few blows in rapid succession. 

SMACK.

“SIXTEEN. THANK YOU, CAPTAIN.”

SMACK.

“FUCK. SEVENTEEN. THANK YOU, SIR.” 

You can feel the coil tightening in your stomach as he lands two more, nearing the end. After nineteen, you’re babbling in his lap, desperately pressing back against his hand, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“You think you deserve to cum?” he asks.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you whimper. 

“Not yet, pretty girl.” 

SMACK.

“Twenty,” you sob. 

He removes his fingers from you, and you immediately feel painfully empty. His other palm rests on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you feel your pulse in your fluttering, empty cunt.

“You did so well,” he praises. You quiver under his touch. “Are you still green?”

“Still g-green,” you stutter. 

“Louder.”

“Green,” you declare more firmly.

“Good. Lie down.” 

He helps you stand on shaky legs, carefully moving you to lie on your back on the bed. You feel the softness of the blanket rub against the inflamed skin of your ass and thighs, and you shudder at the thought of the marks that’ll be there tomorrow, a reminder of your night with the captain. 

But he’s far from done with you. 

“Wait here,” he commands. “Don’t touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh with a hint of a whine. 

He retreats to the refresher, washing his hand before he comes back, his head tilted as he watches you, laid out for him on your bed. He quickly removes the rest of his armor and boots, grinning smugly as your eyes follow every new part of him that’s exposed to you. You want him, and he knows it. Reaching for his waist, he tugs his shirt up and over his head, tossing it next to his armor. 

He’s fucking stunning. You knew he would be, but somehow still weren’t prepared. The tattoos you’d seen evidence of curl from his elbows over his shoulders, weaving in geometric patterns across his collarbone and shoulder blades before reaching up his neck, where they end. Each line seems to flawlessly frame a muscle or tendon, perfectly accentuating it. His body is littered with small scars, with one larger one visible on his hip, dipping below the waistline of his pants. Without his codpiece, you can see the pronounced outline of his cock, straining against the black fabric. Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips, meeting his eyes. 

“Not yet,” he teases.

You’re huffy now, having recovered slightly from your denied orgasm, and he glowers at you as you pout. 

“Hands under the headboard,” he orders. You glare at him for another moment, and he raises his eyebrow again in warning. You concede, slipping your fingers under the wooden edge and gripping it tightly. “Good. Keep them there,” he orders as he slowly approaches the bed. “Or else I’ll get some binders.” 

“Probably the most use they’ll have gotten,” you snicker. 

“You really want to make this difficult?”

“Got a reputation to keep up.” 

He snorts before climbing onto the bed and straddling you, lowering his body onto yours slowly. You can feel the warmth of his chest against your skin, and your body is screaming at you to wrap your legs around him, but you really aren’t that interested in the binders that he threatened you with. 

You’re more interested in getting his cock inside of you as quickly as possible. 

Crater is infuriatingly patient and precise in his motions, but then again, you suppose that’s why he commands an entire combat wing. He slips his hand into your hair again, gripping but not pulling. He tilts your head slightly, exposing your neck to him. “If I remember correctly, your jumpsuit collar goes to about here,” he whispers, nosing at the perceived boundary on the skin of your throat. His beard is tickling you, and you’re shaking with anticipation. “That seem right to you?” 

“Yes, s-sir,” you stutter. 

“Already a mess and I’ve hardly started,” he rasps, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have you begging soon enough.” He kisses your neck, and you let out a sharp exhale. You’ve tried to play it neutral, but somehow, he’s zoned in on the exact spot you like to be kissed, the spot that drives you wild. And he notices the way you respond, bearing down on it with his teeth and tongue. You start to grind against him, desperate for any sort of friction, desperate to feel his cock. You manage to catch the head of it on your clit through his pants, rubbing for a millisecond before his unoccupied hand locks firmly on your hip, holding you still. 

“You’ll take what I give, pretty girl,” he snarls in your ear. “And the longer you’re greedy, the longer you’ll wait to have me fill that pretty pussy.” 

You whine but relent, letting him resume his attack on your neck and collar bone. He works slowly and methodically, marking you as he works his way to your breasts, where he seemingly spends an eternity lavishing them with attention. He sucks bruises, he bites gently, and he takes your nipples in his mouth, paying special attention to what makes you writhe and gasp. 

And then he moves lower, slipping between your legs and kissing just below your navel as he spreads your legs wide with his hands on the back of your thighs. His breath is so warm against your dripping cunt, and you spasm in his grip as he blows on you purposefully. 

“Asshole,” you grumble. 

He bites the inside of your thigh hard, and you yelp. Looking down, you can already see the bruise blossoming where his teeth caught your skin. 

“Only nice girls get to cum. Now, remember, keep your hands where they are.” 

He nuzzles against the flesh of your unmarked thigh, placing warm kisses and gentle bites. His beard scrapes the tender skin just before his teeth graze you, threatening to mark you where only you’ll see. You close your eyes, tipping your head back as you try to fight the way your legs are trembling, but that earns you a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh. 

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” 

You catch your lip between your teeth as you obey, your eyes finding his brown ones, which seem to be practically glowing. He keeps his gaze locked with yours as he nuzzles your clit, blowing on it gently. You whine, and your legs try to close, but he firmly holds them open. 

“I’m going to break you,” he whispers. “By the time I’m done, all you’ll know is my name and the word ‘please’.” 

You tremble again just as he dives in, driving his tongue and eating you ravenously as you gasp and thrash in his grasp. 

Crater is a master at pulling you apart slowly, and he takes his time, working you to the edge with his tongue and mouth and then chuckling as he pulls away, leaving you trembling and crying out in frustration. He’s a quick study and eventually adds his fingers, thrusting into your cunt as he suckles at your clit in the way that he now knows will have you clenching and gasping. The third time he deprives you, you unleash a frustrated growl, and he laughs quietly at your frustration. 

“Please, Captain,” you whine. “Please.” 

“Not yet.” 

He goes at you again, alternating with his tongue and his fingers, and it feels as though it only takes seconds for your body to begin to tighten, begging for the release that he’s robbed you of. 

“Knew you’d taste good,” he mumbles into your skin as he presses his fingers back inside of you. “So sweet and warm.” 

“P-p-please. Please.” 

He nips at your thigh and you cry out, tears leaping into your eyes as droplets of perspiration dot your forehead. Crater bears down on the spot inside of you, watching you as you babble. 

“Please, I'll do anything you want. Please, sir, please. I need it.”

“Tell me what you need, gorgeous.” 

“I need to cum. Please. Do anything you want to me. Please just let me cum. PLEASE!”

“Not yet.”

You sob. 

He keeps working you, disintegrating your resolve with every pass of his tongue and his fingers. The scratch of his beard is delicious, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his mouth and the soft press of his tongue against you as he laps at your heat.

“Captain, please. Gods above, I’ll let you have anything.” 

“Anything?”

“Yes. I’ll suck your cum out of your cock. You can have my ass. I’ll give you anything.”

He chuckles. “At the bargaining phase, are we?” 

The tears are streaming from your eyes, and you unleash a choked sob. 

“Ask me again.”

You’re gasping now, teetering on the edge. 

“Please, Captain. Please let me cum.”

“Good girl.” He kisses your clit, and you moan, your knuckles aching from how hard you’re holding the headboard. 

“Cum for me.” 

You do, screaming his name as your body spasms with wave after wave of your orgasm. He holds you in place, working you through it until your body finally sags into the bed, slick with sweat and wrung out. Your mind is hazy as you feel him crawl up next to you, pressing his fingers against your lips. You let your mouth fall open, welcoming them in as you clean your release from the pads of his fingers. When he’s satisfied, he leans over you and kisses you, and you can feel how wet his beard is from your release. He reaches up as he kisses you, pulling your hands from the headboard. You immediately bury them in his dark curls, running your fingers over the back of his head, relishing this new touch he’s permitted. 

The way Crater kisses you feels as though he’s stealing the air from your lungs. His tongue gently finds its way inside your mouth, running along your lower lip as his hands wander your body, gently rubbing and caressing. After what feels like an eternity and not long enough, he relents, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Are you ready to continue, my gorgeous girl?” 

“Yes, sir.” You’d been determined to make this harder for him, but he’s broken you, and you’re more than ready to bend to whatever his will may be. You trust him implicitly, just like you always have, but somehow, it feels deeper now. You know as rough as he may be with you here, he’ll never hurt you in a way you don’t ask for. His eyes are staring directly into yours as he strokes your cheek tenderly. 

“So good for me,” he whispers. He kisses your cheek, moving along your jaw until he reaches your ear. He gently takes your earlobe between his teeth as he grips your thigh, coaxing you to wrap your legs around him. You do it immediately, quivering again at the thought of finally being filled by his cock. 

Crater is kicking his pants off as he whispers into your ear. “Now that you’re being good, I’m going to fuck you until you’re boneless. You’re going to cum exactly as many times as I want you to, and no less. But you have to ask me first, and ask nicely. Do you understand?” 

You nod. 

“Use your words, love.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Color?” 

You can feel the head of his cock resting against the puffy, soaked lips of your pussy. Crater is stroking himself against your slit, coating himself with your release. You look down and see he’s as big as Gregor, but with a little more girth, and Maker above you’ve never wanted anything more. 

“Green.” 

He grunts as he notches his head at your entrance. “Good girl.” 

Crater enters you slowly, watching your face as he breaches you. Your release makes it easier to take him, but not easy. You feel your walls stretch to accommodate him as he slowly thrusts shallowly into you, pressing a little deeper each time. Every time his head catches your entrance, you whimper, and he responds with a thrust. You can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him, every ridge apparent as he takes what you’re more than willing to surrender.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. 

You reach up to touch his face, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he leans forward and captures your lips again. He groans into your mouth as he bottoms out, pressing his hips against yours, and the feeling of him inside of you is bliss you’ve never experienced. He stays still, but his entire body is tensed, a taut spring waiting to be unleashed. He strokes your cheek. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I won’t be gentle.” 

You raise your head, grazing his lips with yours. “I don’t want you to be.” 

He chuckles darkly. “Good.” 

His hips draw back before slamming against yours, and you see stars as the head of his cock finds the perfect place inside you. He starts off at a steady but hard pace, knocking the wind from you with every thrust of his hips. His hands wander your body, squeezing your breasts, playing with your clit, finding every place that makes you unfurl more underneath him. 

At one point, he sits up, placing his hands at the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest. The angle of his next thrust has you screaming to religious entities you don’t even believe in as he reaches impossibly deeper inside of you. His thrusts are deliberate and perfectly timed, his fingers bruising, and it’s not long before you’re pleading with him again. 

“Maker, I’m gonna cum again. Please let me cum, Captain. Please.” 

“Yeah? Already? You’re not making this very difficult.” He sheathes himself to the hilt and holds there. It feels as though he’s rearranging your insides, and you’re shocked you can’t see an outline of his cock through your stomach. 

“Gods. Please, Crate. I’m so full.” Tears are leaking from the corners of your eyes as he drags himself out again, leaving just the head inside of you. His thumb presses against your clit with a feather-light touch, and you jolt at the contact, whining desperately. 

“Not yet, you’re not,” he rasps. You feel his fingers prod at your asshole, and you fist the sheets, arching your back as your mouth falls open. You hear the click of the lube bottle opening again. 

“Color?”

“G-green.” 

His cock slips from you, and you want to scream, but he holds your legs where they are, and you feel the blunt head of the plug nudge your other entrance. 

“Relax for me, pretty girl.” 

You do, inhaling and exhaling deeply as you quiver with anticipation. The plug slips inside you, and it’s bliss you’ve never experienced. Crater watches you for a moment before he slides his cock back inside of your pussy, folding you back in half again. 

You’ve never felt this full before, never this pleasured, and you’re not sure you’ll ever feel this way again. 

But you need it. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop.”

A hand settles on your throat, firmer than the last time he grasped you like that.

“Eyes open for me, love.”

You didn’t even realize you’d closed them, but your eyes flutter open and find Crater’s in the dim lighting. They’re piercing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and his gaze follows it. 

“Do as you’re told, yeah?” he groans. 

“Yes, sir,” you gasp. 

The grip on your throat tightens slightly, pressing on the sides. “Squeeze for me.” 

You focus on contracting your muscles even though your mind feels like a blur. Crater grunts as your cunt tightens around him. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” His cock slams into you, and you relax, letting him fill you. 

“Again.”

Crater releases your legs, fucking you with his hand around your neck. You’ve never tried spice, but you imagine this has to be what it’s like. You’re floating, you’re moaning, you’re sweating, all while wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, more intense with every thrust of Crater’s hips as the head of his cock continues to stroke that perfect place inside you. The grip on your throat tightens when he wants you to flex your muscles, and after a few cycles of it, you tighten around him without having to be asked. Crater’s fucking you in earnest now, the hand still around your throat, and your head is swimming. He releases you for a second, watching you. 

“Color?”

“Green,” you whisper. 

“Louder for me.” 

“Green,” you say more firmly. 

He’s still watching, and you see a flicker of something, concern maybe. 

“I said I’m green, Crater.” 

He takes your hand, placing it on his side. “Tap if you need.” 

“I will. Now please fuck me.” 

The grip tightens again, and you’re back to floating, and before you know it, you’re begging him again. 

“Cum on my cock, pretty girl.” 

You do. You cum hard, clawing at his back as he bites your shoulder. Your vision whites out as you writhe underneath him, clenching around his cock until the orgasm subsides, leaving you panting. 

“Good. That’s two.” 

“How many you shooting for?” you gasp. 

“As many as it takes. Now on your knees for me, love.” 

You roll over onto your knees, bracing yourself against your elbows. You feel exposed like this, back arched and presenting yourself to the captain. You feel him staring at your dripping heat, and you shiver under his gaze. His fingers trace along your lips as he positions himself behind you, nudging your knees apart as he presses his cock back into you. Your back arches almost by instinct, and he groans as he bottoms out, leaning over you. You feel his abdomen press against the plug in your ass, and you try to push backwards to drive it in deeper, but a sharp smack to your ass makes you freeze.

“What did I tell you about being greedy?” he rasps. “You take what I give you.” 

You squeeze around him in the only act of defiance you can muster, and he chuckles darkly before he leans forward, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand while fisting your hair with the other. The roots of your hair creak again under his grip, but the pain is beautiful as he slams into your cunt again with a wet slap that makes your face burn. 

“You talk a big game, but I know what you really crave,” he grunts as he fucks you. “You want to be told how filthy you are. You want to be used like this, to surrender to someone else. You want someone else to take charge. Your dripping little cunt tells me everything I need to know.” He’s got his weight tipped forward onto the small of your back, arching it even further as he snaps his hips into you again, accelerating the pace with each thrust until he’s pounding you into your mattress. Your head is pulled back and forth by the grip he has on your hair, and you allow yourself to go limp as Crater drives into you again and again. You’re more than happy to let him use you, especially as he strokes your insides deliciously, stretching you around his cock as your ass relaxes around the plug. It’s bliss. 

After a few minutes, he adjusts again, tipping further forward, and suddenly, he finds the deepest part of you again, and he knows it when you moan loudly under him. He slows, dragging himself out of you before thrusting roughly back in, and you try to bury your face in the sheets to hide the obscene whines that are falling from your lips. But a rough tug of your hair turns your face outward, and you gasp and moan, some of your saliva leaking onto the sheets as Crater fucks you. 

“None of that, love. I want to hear every noise you make.” 

He pulls you apart, piece by piece, yanking another orgasm from you in a matter of minutes before he flips you back onto your back, pulling your ankles up to rest on his shoulders and gripping your hips as he pistons into you roughly. You lose track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and each time, Crater only allows you a moment to catch your breath before he’s moving you again, gripping your body roughly and taking what he wants from you. You’re boneless and malleable, and he’s seemingly insatiable. 

He’s fucking you on your back again, with one leg extended between his with the other on his shoulder as he drives into your soaked cunt. Sweat is trickling down his neck, trailing along the lines of his tattoos. His dark curls are glistening with moisture, and one drop falls from his nose, landing on your abdomen as he snaps his hips into you relentlessly. 

“I’m almost there, love,” he gasps. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” 

You’re panting with exertion, trying to hold your orgasm at bay as he grips your hip, driving himself into you impossibly deeper. You worry that his orgasm will mean the end of this night, and he seems to notice your concern.

“Ask for what you want, pretty girl.”

You’re suddenly shy, even with his cock buried inside you, even wearing the marks of his teeth and his hands on your flesh. 

He slows, whispering your name. “Tell me what you want.”

“I… I want you to fuck my ass. I want you to have me there, Crater.” 

His eyes search yours for a second before he resumes his relentless pace. “I’m going to cum in this pussy. Then you’re going to clean my cock off with that smart mouth of yours. And once I’m nice and hard again, I’ll claim you there. That what you want?”

Heat rises in your cheeks. “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir. Please sir.”

“Good girl.”

He leans forward, adjusting to the angle that he knows will rip another orgasm from you, and sure enough, you’re pleading with him again in a matter of seconds. This time, he’s merciful. 

“Cum with me. Right now. Do it.”

You’ve never been so responsive to a lover, never felt as though your body was perfectly calibrated to follow their commands, but Crater’s words send you hurtling over the edge, and you feel him twitch as he empties himself inside of you. It takes several thrusts, and you’re certain you’re full of his cum, dripping with it. 

His final thrusts make obscene sounds, and you feel the warm stickiness dribble out of you. Crater pushes himself up on his hands and knees, reaching for the dildo and gently nestling it inside of you, replacing his cock. It’s cold and not enough compared to him, but your disappointment only lasts a moment as he crawls to the head of your bed, sitting against your headboard with his legs spread. He reaches for the remote on your nightstand and beckons you forward. 

“Come clean me off, love. Get me ready to take you again.” 

You feel as though you’re drunk as you roll yourself onto your hands and knees, clumsily crawling towards him on wobbly limbs. He watches you with a slight smirk as you drop to your elbows between his knees, nuzzling at his abdomen and kissing the scar on his hip. He gently brushes your hair out of your face, gathering it in one hand. 

“You want this, love?”

“So much,” you whisper. 

His cock is still half-hard, glistening with your combined releases, and you gently wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste is salty and tangy and warm, and you can’t believe how quickly you crave it, slipping him further into your mouth. He grunts in surprise as you suddenly feel a second wind overtake you, making you eager to run your tongue along every inch of him. You clean him until your saliva replaces the slick cum on his shaft, tracing veins and flicking the head of his cock with your tongue. You hear a dull thunk as his head falls back against your headboard, and he gathers your hair in one hand, applying pressure to the back of your head. 

You want him to use you. You want him to bruise the back of your throat. You want him to make your voice rasp in the morning as a reminder of this night. 

His cock hits the back of your throat, but you hold yourself there, fighting your gag reflex and the tears that are blurring your vision. You can see his abdomen heaving as he experimentally thrusts into your mouth, testing your limits. You swallow around him. 

Crater moans. 

“Good fucking girl. Maker, I knew that mouth would be incredible. Gonna have to be careful or else I’ll cum down your throat, love.”

You hum and the grip on your hair tightens as you feel his cock swell and pulse against your tongue. 

“Oh, you want that do you? You want me to fuck your mouth?”

The sounds as your saliva squelches around him are obscene, but he begins pistoning up into your mouth, moving your head to meet his thrusts. You rest one hand on his thigh in case you need it, and you feel his muscles tense with every snap of his hips. 

“So fucking good. I should come by more often just to do this. Shut your office door and fuck your throat when you get mouthy with me. You love this, don’t you? Love being put in your place. Love being used to slick my cock, you sloppy little thing. Relax your throat for me. Oh, fuck, yes. Just like that.” 

You’ve never heard him this vocal, and as you manage to glance up, you see how his lips are slightly parted. His brows are furrowed, and you can tell you might finally have him knocked slightly off balance. A new wave of arousal shoots through you at the thought of making Crater crumble. With renewed fervor, you bury your nose in the curls at the base of his cock, inhaling his scent just before your airway is cut off, and you gag. But you hold yourself there, and his hand rests heavily on the back of your head. 

Suddenly, you groan as he clicks the remote for the dildo in your cunt. It vibrates to life, pressing against your stretched walls, making your legs quiver.

“Good girls get rewarded,” he rasps.

You become ravenous, eager to taste his cum, desperate to have this man fill your throat. You want nothing more than to pleasure him, to submit to him, and you let him take what he wants from you. Crater drops the remote, burying both hands in your hair as he lazily thrusts in and out of your mouth, giving you instructions occasionally, which you follow without question. The dull buzz between your legs combined with the pressure in your ass and the throb of Crater’s cock on your tongue brings you to the edge again, but this time, you can’t beg with your mouth full. 

He notices. 

“Do it. Cum for me. You’ve been so good.”

He clicks the remote again, and you scream around his cock. He presses your head all the way down, groaning as your shrieks vibrate around him. Just as you’re spent, he pulls you off of him, turning the vibration off. He’s almost painfully hard, you can see that. His cock is fully erect and twitching, glistening with your saliva in the dull lighting of the room. You rest your cheek on his thigh, and he strokes your hair. 

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Wanted… wanted to taste… you,” you pant.

He strokes your hair. “Another time. I promise.” 

You whine. “Please fuck me.”

That was apparently the answer he was hoping for, not wanting to expend himself too early if that’s what you really wanted. He’s read you again, but you can’t be bothered by it as he asks you “Where?”

You know he’s making sure this is what you want, so you meet his eyes with as firm a gaze as you can muster. “Please fuck my ass, sir. I need it.”

“How could I refuse such a polite request?” 

Crater eases out from underneath you, crawling around behind you and guiding you onto your stomach. He folds a pillow in half and helps you raise your hips to stuff it under them, raising them to his liking before he straddles you, enclosing your legs with his. He pushes the vibrator in your cunt a little deeper, you having squeezed it out slightly during your last orgasm, and then he clicks the low vibration back on. Your muscles tighten around it, and you grip the sheets, arching your back and moaning as he presses it further in and clicks the button again. The vibrations ramp up, and you writhe beneath him. He taps the end of the plug in your ass, and you turn to look over your shoulder at him. 

“You gonna let me have your ass, sweetheart?”

It’s one last check. And you’re so grateful for it. But you’re also so impatient. 

“Yes. Please fuck my ass, Captain.” 

His eyes leave yours to watch as he plays with the plug a little, tapping and moving it in and out of you before he removes it completely. You feel achingly empty and wiggle your ass, hoping it will entice him to fill you faster. You’ve never been taken there before, but right now, you want nothing more. 

“I’m going to go slow. Use your colors.”

“Please, Crater.” 

The lube bottle clicks open, and a few seconds later you hear the sound of him slicking his cock. Coolness hits your asshole, and you gasp as fingers slip inside of you, working you even more open. 

And then you feel it. 

Crater uses one hand to spread your asscheeks as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance and slowly begins to ease in. So slowly. Tears leap into your eyes as your muscles stretch to accommodate him. It’s slightly painful, but the pleasure outweighs it as he gently thrusts just the head in and out of you. It feels as though your cunt is stretching too, and the vibrations inside of you suddenly become more intense. 

You need him deeper.

“More,” you plead. 

Crater sinks a little further into you, moving his hand to the small of your back instead to brace himself. And that’s when it hits you: he’s inside of you completely, not having to hold himself there, in a place no one else has ever been. 

The realization drives you wild. 

And then he taps the vibrator again. You gasp loudly, fisting the sheets. 

“More. Please!” 

He sinks deeper, but it’s too much too fast this time. You gasp out a color.

“YELLOW.” 

He backs off quickly, but your hand rockets around to keep him inside you. 

“Just a little slower. I’m sorry. I thought I was ready,” you choke out.

“Don’t be sorry. Not at all. I’m glad you told me.” His voice is tight. You know he’s holding back. And that’s why you want to keep going. Because you trust him like you’ve trusted no one else. 

“Don’t stop. Just go slower. But please don’t stop.”

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

“Yes. Please. I’m green.” You thrust back slightly, just to your breaking point, and he takes your lead. You feel your body relax around him, and this time, you’re positive when you ask him for more. He’s slow and patient, working his way inside you. The stretch is delicious, and Maker, you’ve never been this full. Nothing you do with your fingers or toys after this will be enough. Not with the way his hand is rubbing comforting circles in the small of your back as he destroys you one centimeter at a time. 

“More.” 

He sinks deeper, and now you’re babbling as he slowly drags himself back out of you before sinking back in. You reach between your legs to press the vibrator against your clit. 

“Fuck, Crate. You’re so big. It’s so big and perfect. Fuck. I fucking love the way you feel in my ass.” 

“You gonna let me cum in this tight ass, pretty girl?” he grits out. He doesn’t correct you on his title, but you’re pretty sure he’s almost as far gone as you are.

“Gods, yes. I want you to claim me there. Paint my walls where no one else has. I want to feel you leak back out of me.”

His hands grip your hips so hard you’re certain there’ll be a perfect set of fingerprints there. He’s doing everything in his power to go slow, and you can’t wait to turn him loose. 

“More, Crate.” 

You feel his hips come to rest against your ass as he bottoms out. He’s panting against your shoulder blades, attempting to keep his composure. The realization of how deep he is inside of you has your cunt fluttering around the vibrator, and you almost orgasm from the thought alone. He stretches his legs out, lowering his weight on top of you. One set of his fingers interlaces with yours, and the other hand comes around to cup your throat. He doesn’t squeeze this time, just cradles your jaw, holding your head up as he nuzzles against you. 

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers against your skin. “So fucking good.”

You look over your shoulder at him as much as you can, watching a line of sweat trickle down his temple. 

“Fuck me, Captain.” 

He does. He’s slow at first, but the drag of his cock all the way back out and all the way back into your ass makes you mewl, and before long, you’re pressing back into him. He ramps the vibrator up to its highest setting, and your eyes roll back into your head. 

“Harder. Please.” 

He obliges, snapping his hips deeper and putting more of his weight into each thrust. Your toes dig into the sheets as your whole body begins to tighten. 

“I’m so full. It’s so good. So good. Fuck.” You can’t stop babbling as he pounds into you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gasps. “You take my cock so fucking well. Like you were made for it.” He groans loudly as he bottoms out again. “You love this, don’t you? Being stuffed in both holes?”

“Yes,” you sob. “It’s so good.”

“I bet you’d love to have Gregor’s cock in here too. Maybe he takes your sweet little cunt while I pound your ass.” You moan, clenching at the thought. Crater doesn’t stop. “But that still leaves your mouth. Maybe I get Chuckles in here to fuck that smart little mouth while Gregor and I take you. Would you like that, pretty girl? To be ruined by three men at once?” 

You whine and spasm around him, and he feels it. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty girl. Who would have known the smart-mouthed mechanic would let me do this to her? Let me ruin her in the backroom of her office. I want you to always remember this when you’re out in that office working. How I took you back here and made you scream my name. How you begged for my cock. Maybe I’ll take you over that desk before I go in the morning so you think about that for the rest of the day while my spend leaks out of you.” 

“Crater, I’m gonna cum.”

“Not until I say you are,” he grits out. “Not until I’m ready to.” 

You inhale sharply, trying to keep your body from toppling over the edge. 

“Don’t you cum yet,” he snarls. 

“I’m trying,” you whine. “But I’m so close, Captain. So close.” 

“Keep talking.” 

Your mouth runs on autopilot, desperate to find the words that will yank him to the edge alongside you so that you can both tumble off together. 

“Your cock is so fucking good, Crater. Gods, nothing will ever be enough after this. You fill me up so perfectly. I need it, Crate. I need to feel your hot cum in my ass. I want to feel it leak out of me. Fuck. Please give it to me, Crater. Please cum in my ass.” 

His thrusts grow more erratic, and you know you’re about to get what you want. 

“G-gonna fill you up,” he growls. “Gonna be the first to claim you here.”

“My ass is yours, Crater.” 

“Yeah it fucking is.” The grip on your throat tightens, pulling your head back again, and that last little pinprick of pain has you teetering on the brink. It’s like the first day when he had you tipped in the chair of your office, your toes barely touching the floor. All it will take is the slightest push to send you toppling over the edge.

Just a little further. So close.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you sob. 

“You’re so cute when you beg,” he rasps directly into your ear. And with a loud groan, his hips stutter as he cums in your ass, gasping. 

“Now,” he moans.

And your orgasm rips through you. He drops your head, and you scream into the sheets as wave after wave washes over you in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears stream from your eyes and your body spasms again and again. You feel like you’re floating somewhere between consciousness and some other plane of existence as you come out of it, barely aware of what day it is or what your name even is anymore. 

When the waves of your orgasm finally stop battering your wrung-out body, you collapse limply against the sheets of your bed. They stick to you, but it feels as if you’ve sunk halfway through the mattress somehow. Your mouth feels dry from screaming. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and you’re aware Crater is laying on top of you, panting against your neck, but trying to hold the majority of his weight off of you.

“Get it out,” you mumble. 

He’s already slipped from your ass, but he quickly turns off the vibrator and eases it out of your cunt. You feel yourself start to shake uncontrollably. You’re not sure if it’s due to the orgasm, the sudden chill on your sweat-soaked body, or something else. Regardless, Crater lies next to you and pulls you close to him, being careful to keep his sullied hand clear of you. His nose grazes yours as he gently cradles your head. 

“Breathe with me, Bolts.”

You do, and the shivering begins to subside after a few cycles. You finally open your eyes and find Crater’s steady gaze watching you, a comfort as always. 

“I’m going to go get something to clean you off with. I’m going to be right back. Alright?” You nod, your mind still hazy, and he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving off towards your ‘fresher. The sink hisses softly, and a moment later, you feel your legs gently being parted and a warm, damp cloth moving over your body, thighs, and between your legs as Crater carefully cleans you. Once he’s done, a dry towel runs over the same areas, soft and gentle, before he rolls you onto your back, removing the pillow from beneath your hips. You hear the mini-fridge in your outer office open and close, and a straw is placed at your lips. You drink greedily as he strokes your hair, draining the water packet in a few seconds. 

“Good girl.” The words are softer now, carrying no heat. “Do you need more?” 

You shake your head and open your eyes just in time to see him toss the spent water packet into the rubbish bin. He slides into the bed next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You snuggle into the crook of his shoulder in a daze, inhaling his smell and draping one of your legs over his thigh. His fingers stroke your cheek, and he presses gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Strong, gentle hands trail over your skin, caressing tenderly in a way that so sharply contrasts with how he touched you just moments before. He searches for sore muscles or tension left untouched but finds none; you’re completely relaxed in his grasp. His fingers graze over the bruises and bite marks he left, pressing gently and watching for your reaction, ensuring you’re not in too much pain. It’s sweet, but not something you’re used to. You know this hardly counts as being pampered by most people’s standards, but you’re not used to the doting tenderness. Even if you do find yourself melting into him more with every passing second, allowing your eyes to drift shut again as you release a satisfied sigh.

“I’m alright, Crate,” you mumble after a few moments, growing shy under his attention. 

“I need to be sure,” he says quietly. “That was intense for you.” 

You smile. “It was, but it was so good.” Your eyes flutter open, and your heart melts at the way he’s looking down at you. You were worried about how this moment might go, concerned about how your friendship might shift after allowing this to happen. 

But you should have known better. Crater is a pillar but also a soft place to land, someone you’d confide in without hesitation. His men fall in line because he’s someone to fly into battle with, someone you know will keep you safe. He’s proud but humble. You know he won’t tell a soul about this night. He doesn’t need to. He knows what he did for you, how you begged for him, and that’s enough. And if you’re honest, you think he got as much out of it as you did, enjoying watching your walls come down and you relaxing with him, enjoying the process of helping you. 

“Just didn’t realize this was an all-inclusive sort of encounter,” you joke. “You’re starting to make me feel like royalty with all the attention.”

His expression grows serious as he looks down at you, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “You shouldn’t be accepting any other kind of encounters, Bolts. Do I need to chat with Gregor when he gets back?”

“Nah. He’s fine for what he is. And he does take care of me. It’s just… different.” 

He grunts noncommittally, pulling you closer. You feel his thumb graze your spine. 

“You jealous?” you ask, tongue poking out between your teeth teasingly.

“Not at all. We’re different people giving you different things.”

“That makes it sound like you don’t intend for this to be a one-time thing, Crate.”

“That is entirely up to you.” His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you kiss it. 

You pretend to consider it for a moment, as if this night won’t have you craving his touch seconds after he’s gone. “Well, I can’t be getting cranky with your men again, now can I?” you murmur, snuggling deeper into the crook of his shoulder.

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. “Definitely can’t have that. And I’m more than happy to do my part.” 

“More than happy?”

“Yeah, Bolts. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself too.” 

“You do this with a lot of people?”

“Nope. Only ones I trust. And that trust me.” 

You twist one end of your hair nervously, the mention of trust bringing a question charging to the forefront of your mind. He can tell, taking your fingers and carefully intertwining them in his own. 

“What is it? You having second thoughts?”

“No, not at all. This was great. It’s just… have you heard if Gregor’s talking about him and I? I didn’t think he would, but what Strike said a few weeks back stuck with me. I don’t want to be the Battalion Babe of the week.” 

He nods, pulling your knuckles to his lips. “I can assure you that I haven’t heard anything and I don’t think Gregor’s like that. I think Strike was angry and lashing out. I know several of the men did see you leave 79s with Gregor, so the conclusion wasn’t too far-fetched. But Gregor’s not feeding the rumor mill.” 

You sigh. “Dammit.”

“For what it’s worth, you haven’t been a topic of conversation within my earshot. I had a chat with Chuckles too and asked him to make sure it wasn’t happening when I’m not around. He said he would, and I trust him. As much of a pain as he is at times, he’s a good man. I trust him.” 

You nod appreciatively, melting slightly at the thought of Chuckles doing that for you, but the mention of the mohawked pilot brings another question to the front of your mind. “Were you serious about you and Gregor and Chuckles?”

He shrugs. “It was something I said in the moment, but not a thing I’d approach them about without your express consent. No one needs to know about this if you don’t want them to. And I would only bring in people you and I trust explicitly. Gregor and Chuckles are two of those people. But again, it was said in the moment and doesn’t have to be a serious thing ever.” 

Your mind is whirling at the thought of having three of them at once. You can’t lie, it does pique your interest. You smirk up at him. “I’ll let you know.”

He huffs a laugh. His eyes are gentle as he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Thank you for trusting me to do all that for you.” 

You snuggle further into him, absently tracing his tattoos with your fingertips. “Thank you for doing it for me in the first place. I’d have never asked.”

A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest. “I know. You’re too stubborn. That’s why I offered.”

“Glad you did.”

“Me too.”

His steady heartbeat lulls you to sleep only a few minutes later. 

—

When you wake in the morning, Crater’s still there, but he’s in the process of getting dressed. He’s snapping his vambraces in place as you stir, sitting up and stretching. You ache deliciously in all of the right places, but seeing him standing there reawakens your hunger. He smiles at you as you sit up in bed. 

“Morning. Figured I should get out of here before the droids start powering on. They’re not known for gossip, but better safe than sorry.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” You can’t keep the disappointment out of your voice, and even if you had, you’re confident he still would have picked up on your cues. He pauses. 

“What’s wrong?”

You wonder if you’re overstepping, but after the night you just had, you figure it doesn’t hurt to ask. You get out of your bed, opening the door to your office. Despite you being completely naked, covered in his marks, Crater’s eyes are firmly locked on yours. You lean against the doorframe, glancing over at your desk. 

“You mentioned a parting gift last night that involved my desk. That offer still on the table?” 

He huffs a laugh, his hands falling to your waist and gently guiding you out into the office. The cool edge of the desk presses against the front of your thighs as he leans down to speak directly into your ear. 

“Elbows on the desk for me, pretty girl. And try to be a little quieter this time.” 

You shudder as he nudges your feet apart, placing his codpiece on the desk next to you. 

“Yes sir.” 

Chuckles’s ears were ringing and everything was dark. The throbbing of his head made him fairly certain he was awake rather than dreaming, but it was hard to be sure. He could hear some sounds, but they were muted and far away, as if he was underwater, and the familiar terror at that thought was enough to snap his eyes open. They immediately stung, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. 

The kids.

They’re safe. 

But you’re not. 

He took a deep gasping breath that burned his lungs, and he coughed hard, tasting a coating of dust on his tongue as smoke inundated his senses. He felt movement underneath him. 

Anj. Helly.

Planting his palms, he pushed himself up off of the two bodies he’d dove on top of, feeling a cascade of rock and dirt roll off of his back. He wasn’t wide enough to have completely shielded them, but the heaviness and soreness on his back made him hope he’d done enough. He blinked again, his eyes watering as he frantically tried to get the grit out of his eyes. He could just barely make out the two forms beneath him, groaning quietly. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn’t be sure if it was purely from the smoke as he choked on another deep, shuddering breath. 

Lu.

He glanced over his shoulder. 

Where the lift and Lu had stood, there was nothing but rubble and roaring flames that were licking up any structure that was still standing. He could see most of the supports had collapsed during the explosion, and the struts that were still intact were bent, straining under their added load. The fire was superheating some of the metal, causing it to glow orange and creak threateningly. 

It’s gonna buckle and collapse the tunnel. We have to move.

Alarms were blaring loudly all around, nearly drowning out the ringing in his ears. He knew people had to be coming to help, but he couldn’t wait for them. The Imperials that were still in the mine were stranded at best, dead at worst, and right now, they were the least of Chuckles’s concerns.

A hand clamped around his arm, and his head whipped down to find Anj pushing a slab of rock off of herself and struggling to a sitting position. Blood covered her face, but her eyes were sharp as they found his through the haze. 

“Hells is hurt. We have to move. Now.”

Something about the tone of her voice, the roughness from the dust, the urgency, sent adrenaline dumping into his system and blood roaring in his ears. His training began to echo in his mind and his fingers itched to be wrapped around the controls in his cockpit as he felt the familiar surge of panic and excitement and thrill seep into his veins. 

Steady. You’re not at war. But you are in trouble.

His vision finally slightly clearer, he looked down at Helly. She was trembling and groaning, clutching at her shirt, which was soaked with blood. Her eyes weren’t all the way open, and her palor seemed off, even taking into account the layer of dust that was coating all of them. Chuckles felt his stomach flip, but he swallowed the bile rising in his throat and nodded at Anj, and the two of them began digging around the Rodian. Anj soothed Helly as Chuckles did his best to move the largest rocks and debris out of the way. 

“Where does it hurt, Petal?” Anj whispered. 

“M-my leg,” Helly whimpered. “And my stomach.” 

Anj gripped her hand tightly as she lifted her shirt. A wide gash ripped up Helly’s abdomen. Blood trickled from it, seeping into the dirt beneath her. Anj schooled her face into a neutral expression, meeting Chuck’s eyes. 

“Hurry. Careful with her leg. We’ll have to carry her out.” Her voice wavered slightly, but her expression was calm. Chuck had seen enough battle wounds to know what the calm was hiding. 

“Hang on, Hells. We’ll get you out. Chuck’s gonna get your leg free, and then we’ll get out, alright?”

“The fire,” Helly rasped. “It could hit the fluid lines. They’re filled with flammable material. Y-you can’t stay, Anj.”

“We aren’t going to stay, Petal. But we’re not leaving without you. Got it?” 

Tears trickled from Helly’s eyes as Anj stroked her cheek, but she nodded, knowing the Nautolan wouldn’t be swayed. 

Chuckles fought a wave of nausea as he finally uncovered Helly’s leg. Bone stuck out through the leg of her pants, and her boot was twisted at an angle that was just wrong for her body. And there was so much blood. More than he was used to seeing. 

For a pilot, there usually wasn’t a gruesome death to be witnessed. You were here one moment and gone the next, blinking out like a star as your fighter ripped to shreds around you. If you were lucky, the explosion took you out before your brain could process what had happened, and most of his brothers had been lucky. Crater’s body had never seemed real to Chuckles when he’d seen it, floating in the smoldering debris of the fleet. It had only been a fraction of a second that he’d caught sight of his captain, not enough and too much for him to process and accept. But Crater had been well and gone to whatever the next life held by the time Chuck had seen him, his star extinguished until Chuck could paint it on the back of his helmet. 

Chuckles considered himself lucky to be a pilot in that respect, to be able to grieve his lost squadmates but know that they likely didn’t feel a thing. He’d heard the gruesome stories from Howzer and Wolffe and the others that had fought planetside, brothers with broken bodies, screaming with their dying breaths. 

He hated to think of his brothers hurting, but somehow, seeing Helly suffer was worse. The clones were soldiers, and the harsh reality of their existence had been drilled into them from the moment they could understand the concept of death. But Helly wasn’t a clone or a soldier. She wasn’t supposed to have her body torn apart like this. She was supposed to smile gently and speak far too quickly about things she was passionate about and make Anj’s eyes twinkle in a way seemingly only she could. And yet, here she lay, trembling and leaking enough blood to make Chuckles think of his own accident with a shudder.

“Do you have something to splint with, Anj?” he asked as quietly as he could, trying not to reflexively reach for the scar on his cheek as he fought back against the intrusive memory. 

Anj’s eyes darted down to the Helly’s leg, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “There’ll be a medkit by the lockers. If nothing else, it’ll have a pain med to dull that. Stay with her, I’ll go find it.” 

“Anj, I can-”

The Nautolan shook her head, her teeth digging into her lower lip. It was obvious she was struggling with this, but she was trying to think logically instead of with her heart. 

“I know exactly where it should be, Chuckles. I’ll be faster.” 

She reached over, grabbing his hand and sliding it into Helly’s. 

“Stay with her, and I’ll be right back. Yeah?”

Chuckles nodded. “Yeah.”

Anj scrambled the rest of the way out of the rubble, her boot slipping on a few of the rocks as she clambered away. Blood was dripping off of one of her tendrils, streaming from a cut on her head. The back of her shirt also had several dark splotches on it, but Chuckles couldn’t be sure if it was her blood or Helly’s. 

A quiet whimper brought his attention back to Helly. Her fingers felt cool in his, and a spike of fear shot through him. Ripping his shirt off, he wadded it up and lifted Helly’s tunic again, pressing the fabric against the deep wound in her abdomen to try and stem the bleeding. He felt her body stiffen as he applied pressure, and she winced. Guilt tore through him, some because he knew he was hurting her, some because he hadn’t shielded her enough to keep her from being hurt like this. 

“I’m sorry, Hells,” he rasped. “It’ll only be for a little bit. Anj’ll be right back and we’ll get you fixed up and out of here.”

“You both should go,” she said quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither is Anj.”

“The kids.”

Chuck’s chest tightened at the thought of Arni and Nita.

They’re at school. Endi will take care of them until I can get there. They’ll be scared, but they’ll be alright. 

“They’re with Endi. They’ll be ok. I’ll comm them as soon as I can get out of here.” 

“You’re bleeding,” she said softly, reaching up and touching his shoulder. Looking down, Chuck saw a deep cut running along the meat of his shoulder. Some of the blood had smeared across his undershirt. Only when he saw it did he finally notice the sting of it. He shrugged, trying to smile through the pain.

“I’ve had worse. I’ll be alright.”

Helly’s gaze grew distant, and her face twisted in grief. “Lu-”

“We’ll find him,” Chuckles replied almost automatically.

Helly’s eyes met his, and he could see she knew as well as he did that there was nothing to find. More tears streamed from her eyes. “Anj knew he… but neither of us thought he’d… I can’t believe…” She shuddered and sobbed and whimpered. 

“Shhhh, Hells,” Chuckles tried to soothe. “One step at a time. We’ll get out of here, and we’ll get you fixed, and we’ll figure it all out, ok?” 

It was clear Helly wanted to say more, but tears slid down her cheeks, leaving trails in the dust on her skin, and she quietly cried. Chuck squeezed her hand, praying Anj had made it to the lockers. As if some deity was finally listening, he heard a curse and some rocks shift off to his left. Anj reappeared, lugging a medkit with one arm. Chuckles could see she was favoring the other, but he knew better than to mention it right now. He took the kit as Anj extended to it, popping it open and rummaging for a painkiller. He found the injector and handed it to Anj, looking for something to temporarily splint Helly’s leg. Anj whispered quietly to Helly before pressing the plunger against her neck, and some of the tension seemed to seep out of the Rodian’s body as the med flooded her system. Anj flung the spent injector away before taking one of the adhesive bacta patches from Chuckles, ripping it open with her teeth as she pulled up Helly’s shirt and did her best to clean around the wound. Helly wriggled, but kept silent as Anj smoothed the bandage in place. 

“Just need to get her leg put together enough to get out of here,” the Nautolan murmured, gently pulling Helly’s shirt back down. “Every medic in a fifty klick radius is going to be heading here, I’m sure.” Her grin was tight, more of a grimace, her teeth glinting in the flickering light of the flames. “You have any medical training?”

“Some,” Chuck replied, ignoring how his hands were shaking as he found bandages and a temporary splint. Helly’s blood and some of his own was smeared across his forearms, and the stinging in his shoulder was beginning to flare into a sharp throb. He bit his cheek as he extended his arm out to Anj to give her the wrap bandages. “You?”

“Some,” she echoed. “But that’ll have to be better than nothing.” Her eyes lingered on Chuck’s trembling hands, and his face warmed with shame. Anj gently reached out, taking the splint from him.

“Hold her while I do this.”

“Anj, I-”

“Chuckles.” Her eyes met his, and he saw a flicker of fear and frustration before she steeled herself. He briefly wondered if this was what she’d looked like when she’d walked away from the partner that had abused her, or when she’d walked away from her home and all she knew, but he blinked, pushing the thought away. Anj closed her calloused hands over his. “I can do this, but I need you to take care of her. Hold onto her and comfort her while I can’t. That’s what I need you to do right now. It’s important to me.”

Chuckles swallowed the lump in his throat, but nodded before moving up towards Helly’s shoulders, helping her to sit up. She gave him a weak smile, but her eyes were dim, and Chuck knew in that moment that the fire and fluid lines weren’t the only things they were racing against. 

“I’ve got you Hells. Just squeeze my hands when it hurts, alright?” He pressed her back against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder, and she gently rested her head against his, allowing his fingers to wrap around hers.

“One… one step at a time. L-like you said,” she whispered. 

Those words had been such a boon for him in his life since the war ended, and he hoped he hadn’t worn them out just yet. 

Anj met his eyes, and he nodded, holding Helly a little tighter. 

“Yup. One step at a time.”

Anj bit her lip and pressed Helly’s leg against the splint. 

Helly screamed and shuddered. 

He’d known the pain killer wasn’t going to be able to dull Helly’s pain enough for the splint, but that knowledge didn’t stop tears from leaping into Chuckles’s eyes as he held her tightly, trying to keep her from thrashing too much as Anj quickly tried to bandage her leg, tying it firmly to the splint. 

“I know, Hells. I know. You’re doing so good. I’m so sorry. Hang on,” Chuckles said softly, trying to keep his voice from cracking as fear flooded through him. Anj was crying as she worked, tears running down her cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, Petal. I’m so sorry. I’m almost done. I promise,” she whispered, her voice breaking on every word.

Helly whimpered, and Chuckles held her tighter as she trembled. The smoke stung his eyes, and he knew tears were leaking from his eyes as well. He cradled Helly’s head, pressing his forehead to her temple as he whispered. 

“Almost done, almost done.”

He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself as she sobbed again. 

“There. Done.” 

Anj’s shoulders slumped with relief as she sat back on her haunches and wiped at her face. 

“Alright, time to go, Hells.” 

The two of them pulled Helly to her good foot, bracing her on either side, but it only took one hobbling step for it to be apparent the three of them couldn’t pick their way over the rubble like that. A rumbling echo and menacing creaking behind them served as a warning that they were running out of whatever time they had left. Chuckles bent over, scooping Helly into his arms with a grunt. 

“Your shoulder-” Anj tried to protest, but he cut her off.

“Scout a path. I’ll be fine. I’ll follow you.”

Anj looked like she was going to argue. Chuck glanced down at Helly before meeting the Nautolan’s dark eyes with a pleading look. 

Let me do this. We’ve got to go. 

He could see Anj doing the math of it all in her head, understanding that this was the best way forward, even if that meant she couldn’t hold onto Helly for a few more moments. She scowled, and he could see her spine straighten as she nodded. Without another word, she turned, eyes scanning the uneven footing ahead of her as she carefully placed her boots, arms held out for balance. Sweat broke out across Chuckles’s brow, trickling down his temple as he tried to keep his arms steady around Helly, placing his feet where Anj had stepped and doing his best to not jostle the Rodian too much. 

It felt like an eternity had passed when they finally heard a shout up ahead. Anj glanced over her shoulder at Chuckles as if to ensure he heard it too. He nodded before taking a deep breath and yelling as loud as he could. 

“OVER HERE!” 

Anj moved quickly, shouting with a raw voice, and Chuck followed carefully behind. A moment later, two silhouettes emerged out of the murky darkness, headlamps cutting through the swirling dust and smoke. 

“ANJ! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?” Teef shouted. The oxygen mask he was wearing muffled his words, and his sharp eyes blinked behind his goggles. 

“Not sure yet,” Anj said flatly. Her eyes flicked to Chuckles, and she gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. The message was clear. 

Not now.

“Hells is hurt bad,” Chuckles rasped, his throat suddenly feeling more raw. He noted his legs were trembling, and his shoulder felt like a hot iron was embedded in it. The second figure stepped forward, and he was relieved when Gornar took Helly from his arms with a nod. 

“They’re staging medical out front. Aside from the inspectors, anyone else in here?” Teef asked, moving aside to let Gornar past. Chuckles could see Helly’s chest was rising and falling shallowly, her eyes closed. 

“There’s no one else alive,” Anj said quietly. 

“I thought I saw Lu walk past.”

Anj’s voice broke, and Chuckles grabbed her around her waist with his good arm, holding her against his side as her knees seemed finally ready to buckle beneath her. The next words she spoke were gritted out through clenched teeth. 

“No one else alive, Teef.” 

The realization settled into the Latero’s eyes, and his gaze dropped to the ground. “Understood, Anj. I’m sorry.” He stepped aside, absently patting her arm as he took in the remains of the mineshaft, still roaring with fire and smoke. “Let’s get you two out of here, and we’ll figure out what comes next.” 

Chuckles walked slowly with Anj, allowing her to slide her good arm across his shoulders as he gripped her by her belt, holding her up. Teef went ahead, shouting for a medic and pointing out any unsteady footing. Gornar had already disappeared from view, and Chuckles hoped that meant Helly was already in the hands of a medic. When they finally reached the entrance to the mine, catching sight of Lothal’s sunshine tearing through the dust and smoke, he felt Anj release a shuddering sob, sagging against him as her grief finally overtook her. 

“I’ve got you, Anj. Almost there.” 

She didn’t reply, but he felt her grip tighten on his undershirt as they stepped forward into the clear air. Almost immediately, they were swarmed by figures, peppering them with questions. Anj slipped from his grasp, half-carried by two humans he was pretty certain were Kit and Bronce. He heard her rasp out Helly’s name as she was led away towards a set of hastily constructed tents. 

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED, CHUCKLES?”

He blinked hard, his eyes focusing on Jerrno, who was standing in front of him with wide, frantic eyes. 

“CHUCK?”

His head throbbed, and his shoulder seared. There was a ringing in his ears that made him flinch.

“I-”

His head swam. He looked down and finally realized how bloody he was. Some of it was Helly’s and some of it was Anj’s, but there was no mistaking the source of the crimson stream that was pouring from his shoulder. His hands were trembling.

“Lu-”

His voice faltered as relief, exhaustion, and agony all washed over him simultaneously. His knees impacted something hard, and he winced, wondering what had struck him. He realized too late he had fallen to his knees, the grit biting into his stinging palms as he tried to keep himself up.

“CHUCKLES!” Jerrno’s voice sounded so far away even though he could feel the Laterro’s hands on his shoulder and back, trying to brace him.

His vision narrowed, as if someone was closing the blinds on a window. His head slammed into something, and he tasted dirt. The last thing he saw was tan dirt that made him think of the birthmark on Arni’s face and sunlight as golden as Nita’s irises. 

Then his world went quiet.

—

For the second time that day, Chuckles started awake, but this time, it wasn’t smoke and fire surrounding him, but the soft murmur of hushed conversation and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. He could smell antiseptic and the distinct tang of bacta. He recognized immediately that he was in one of the tents that had been setup outside of the mine, lying on a mat on the ground. He groaned, rolling onto his undamaged shoulder. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat felt raw. He heard a scuffling behind him, and Grinz was suddenly hovering in front of his face with a water packet and a look of relief sweeping across his haggard features. 

“Drink,” he croaked out.

Chuckles obeyed, drinking greedily until he drained the packet and flopped onto his back, breathing heavily. 

“Fire’s out. They’ll be diggin’ for days though.” Grinz sounded exhausted. 

“Hells?” Chuckles asked.

“She’s gonna be alright,” Grinz replied, sitting down next to him heavily. “Thanks to you and Anj. If she’d had to wait for a rescue crew… well, I’d rather not think about it.” The Ugnaut scrubbed his stubby fingers over his face, and Chuckles could see him wavering between grief and confusion. 

“And the inspectors?”

Grinz sighed. “Gone. Probably immediately. Jerrno managed to get some smaller drones down the shaft, but the droids didn’t find anything alive. The explosion collapsed the entire lift shaft, and the working theory is that the inspectors were standing too close when it happened. It was quick.” 

Chuckles’s chest tightened at the revelation. 

There will be questions. A lot of them. About what we knew and if we helped Lu at all.

Panic rose in his throat.

“Grinz, my kids. I need to tell them-”

“They know you’re safe,” Grinz reassured him. “As soon as I heard the explosion, I ran down here with every bit of medical supplies I could carry. I got here just as they were carryin’ you in here, and I commed Endi to let her know. That was a few hours ago. I… I didn’t think you’d want the kids to see you like this. You’re pretty banged up.” 

“I’ve got to get to them.”

He rolled onto his side and pushed himself to a sitting position. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t graceful, but he managed. 

“Chuck-”

“I’ve got to get to them, Grinz,” he repeated. The Ugnaut stared at him for a few moments before poking his head out of the curtain that was keeping Chuckles separated from the main portion of the tent and waving down a medical droid. The droid bustled in, scanning Chuckles as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“I must advise against you leaving,” the droid protested. “You have a lacerated shoulder, two bruised ribs, one that may be fractured, multiple cuts and contusions, and a concussion. It would be best if you remained here so that we could monitor-”

“Is the shoulder cleaned, bacta’ed, and stitched?” Chuckles asked. 

“Why yes, but-”

“And there’s nothing that can be done about the ribs other than taking it easy, correct?”

“Limited activity is recommended, but for your concussion-”

“I know the protocol,” he interrupted again. “Had enough of them during my time as a soldier. I might know more about them than you.”

“Sir, again, I must recommend-”

“You’ve made your recommendation. You did your job. But I’m still leaving.” He glanced down at his undershirt, and swore at the dirt and blood that covered it. “Dammit. Used my shirt on Hells. I can’t let the kids see me like this.”

Grinz stood next to him. “We’ll stop by my place on the way and get you cleaned up. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.” 

“Grinz-”

“If you’re not gonna listen to reason, then you’re gonna have to settle for lettin’ me help you,” the Ugnaut growled. “Now come on, you stubborn git.” Chuckles barely had time to mumble his thanks at the droid, who was still sputtering objections, before he had to stumble after Grinz. The Ugnaut was stomping away at a faster pace than he’d thought his stubby legs capable of.

Grinz’s shower was too small for him, but Chuckles hunched enough to make it work, allowing the warm water to run down his back for a few moments before he scrubbed at the dirt and blood that was and wasn’t his, trying to clean as much of the evidence of the day away as he could. By the time he got out, the stall was covered in a layer of grime, but Grinz waved off his apologies as he helped him back into his clothes. Chuckles knew better than to ask how Grinz had a shirt that was just his size and smelled brand new, and he allowed the Ugnaut to look him over, scrubbing away any streaks of dirt he’d missed and dabbing at one cut that reopened on his brow before putting a fresh bandage over it. Finally, Grinz stepped back, inspecting him with a grimace. 

“You still look like you got run over by a herd of bantha, but at least you smell better, I suppose,” he huffed. 

Chuck straightened, extending the hand on his good arm. Grinz eyed it before gripping it. 

“Thanks,” Chuckles said with a smile. The word felt insufficient but also like anything else would be too much. Grinz nodded, grasping his forearm. 

“Go get your kids. I commed Endi to let her know you’d be headin’ out shortly. She’s taking the kids to your ship.” He eyed Chuck again. “You need me to come with you? Can’t have you conkin’ out on the side of the road.”

“I think I’m alright,” Chuckles reassured him. “Not the worst concussion I’ve had.”

“No sleepin’ without someone checkin’ on you.”

He huffed a laugh, but didn’t object. “I won’t.” 

Grinz nodded. “Get goin’ then.” 

The walk back felt like it took an eternity, and all Chuckles could think of was getting to Arni and Nita. He was certain they’d heard the explosion at school, and if he remembered one thing about being a cadet, it was how fast scuttlebutt would spread, particularly among younger recruits who let their imaginations run wild. His blood sang and his pulse thrummed when the Starlight finally came into view. The kids must have been waiting for him because the hatch immediately flew open, and the two younglings were sprinting at him full speed in a matter of seconds. Tears blurred his vision as he took the scene in, Nita’s eyes wide and her silver ribbons bouncing, and Arni’s lekku trailing behind them as they raced towards him. He managed to kneel down carefully just before they slammed into him. Tears slid over his cheeks as the two younglings babbled, clinging to him tightly. 

“We heard about the explosion.”

“Everyone was saying all the miners died.”

“Are Anj and Helly ok?”

“What about Lu?”

He squeezed them tightly, trying to hold back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. His head hurt. His shoulder throbbed. He wanted to break down then and there, but he bit the inside of his cheek, steeling himself. He buried his nose in Nita’s curls, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before pulling Arni’s forehead to his own. 

“I’m ok. Anj and Helly are getting looked over, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be alright too.” 

He wanted them so badly to miss the fact that he’d excluded a name, but of course Arni didn’t. Their brown eyes searched his. 

“And Lu?”

Chuckles answered as honestly as he felt he could. “I don’t know, kid. He… I don’t know.” 

I don’t know anything about Lu right now. Other than the fact that he’s dead.

Arni’s face fell, but Nita appeared to be too relieved by Chuckles’s reappearance to notice the implication that Lu was gone, wrapping her arms around his neck. He carefully scooped her up with his good arm, trying not to flinch from the soreness that was settling into his body. He knew every part of him was going to be aching in a few hours, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it within him to care. 

He was alive. Still.

Arni hung close to his side as he made his way towards the ship, but they didn’t reach for his arm, clearly having noted the injury to his shoulder. 

Endi was waiting at the door when he reached it, and she inhaled sharply as she took in the cuts and bruises all over him and the bandaging on his shoulder, still apparent beneath his new shirt.

“You should see the other guy,” he joked dryly, winking at her as well as he could with the cut over his eye, but he could see it did little to alleviate her concern. He set Nita down as Endi approached, carefully cupping his face in her hands. He let his palms fall to her waist, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. 

We’re all ok.

“Thank you for taking care of them,” he said softly. 

“Of course,” she replied, her voice cracking. “I’m so glad you’re alright. What-”

“I’ll tell you later,” he whispered, cutting her off. Her eyes sharpened, and he could see she understood there were things he wasn’t ready to talk about in front of the younglings. She smiled gently, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to let you spend time with them. Dinner’s in the reheater and should be about ready.”

“Endi, you can-”

“I know,” she whispered softly. “But they need you right now. Come by later if you want. And if not, I’ll understand.” She rested her forehead against his, her fingers slipping into his mohawk. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” 

He kissed her, stroking her cheek before letting her slip past him and out the door.

Dinner was an unexpectedly quiet affair, and for that, Chuckles was glad. Nita hummed and grunted in satisfaction through her meal as if nothing was different, but Arni didn’t seem to be able to take their eyes off of Chuckles, sneaking glances at him in between every bite. Chuckles considered asking them about how they felt, but ultimately, he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk through it with them yet. He didn’t have all of the information. His head still ached. And he hadn’t processed things himself yet. No matter how much he was trying to focus on the present, his brain kept replaying the last moments before the explosion, searching for cues he’d missed from Lu, things he could have done to change the outcome, the look in the Nikto’s eyes as he’d reached for the detonator…

“Chuckles?”

He blinked hard. Nita was looking at him expectantly. 

“Yeah, Honey?”

“Are we going to be alright?” 

Of course that was the question. They didn’t know much, but they knew something was wrong. Something bad had happened, and try as he might to hide it, he knew his guard was down and his concern was written all over his face. 

Reassure them. 

He pushed his bowl of reheated rice and meat aside and reached across the table. Both younglings took his hands, and he did his best to evenly meet their gazes. 

“A bad thing happened today, and while I’m not sure how it’s going to play out, I am very certain of one thing. We are going to be ok. Got it?” 

The two of them exchanged a glance before hesitantly nodding. He flipped his pinkies out, and Nita grinned. Even Arni couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of their mouth. 

“Pinky swear,” he rasped. “We will be ok.”

They locked their fingers with his. 

“Alright. Now the two of you go get cleaned up and get in bed. I’ll get dinner cleaned up.”

“But your shoulder,” Arni tried to counter. 

“You two have had a day. I can get it.”

Nita was more than happy to escape cleaning duty, scampering towards their shared bedroom, but Arni tapped their foot skeptically. 

“We didn’t have a mine collapse on us today.” 

“I mean, technically I didn’t either. I didn’t make it down to the mine,” Chuckles reminded them. 

They sobered, wrapping their arms around themself. “I’m glad about that.” 

Chuckles bit the inside of his cheek to keep the sudden shudder that was threatening to rip through him at bay. “Yeah, me too kid.” 

Most nights, the two younglings put themselves to bed without issue, but tonight, Chuckles came down to the hold with them, letting Nita babble about the day and allowing Arni to continue to sneak glances at him, reassuring themselves that he was there and alright. He sat down between their bunks as Nita snuggled with her trooper doll and Arni pulled the blankets up to their chin. The little Pantoran’s speech slurred as slumber quickly overtook her, her mumbled words devolving into quiet snores. Chuckles smiled at her, relieved the day’s events hadn’t affected her too much. He remembered being that age, how most of the small things seemed larger than they were, and how the bigger things weren’t always significant to younger cadets, merely because they didn’t fully understand them. Nita had seemingly never considered the possibility that Chuckles might not come home, and for that, he was grateful. 

“Chuckles?”

He rolled his head to meet Arni’s gaze. 

“Are we really going to be alright?”

He huffed a laugh, mustering a smirk that he hoped portrayed confidence. 

“Of course, kid.”

Arni tugged at a thread on the corner of their blanket. 

“Was it scary?”

Chuckles let his head thunk back against the hull’s cool metal wall and winced as his concussion reminded him of his existence. He experimentally rolled his shoulder and bit back a curse as pain shot through his muscle. 

Another scar for the collection. 

He inhaled deeply. 

“Yeah. It was scary for a bit.”

“What really happened to Lu?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, knowing Arni was picking up every detail of his response but feeling too overwhelmed to hide it. They knew something bad had happened, and he wasn’t going to lie to them. But he also didn’t have much to tell. 

“I’m not really sure, Arni.”

They contemplated that. “But he’s dead?”

Chuckles sighed. “Yeah. Yeah he is. I’m sorry, kid.” 

Arni let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry too.” 

“Let’s not tell little one though yet, yeah? She’ll find out eventually, but I’m just not sure I’m equipped with enough information to help her work through it, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” they agreed quietly. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?” 

“Absolutely.” 

It didn’t take long before Arni’s snores started to fill the silence. Chuckles didn’t immediately retreat, closing his eyes and listening to the two younglings, his kids, sleeping peacefully. He hoped they had no nightmares, that they could have as much time as possible before they learned the truth about what had happened, about what Lu had done. 

They’ve experienced so much loss and seen so much death. More than anyone deserves. But especially not them. 

His brain started working the problem, searching for an explanation. 

Helly knows something. She said as much. 

 “Anj knew he… but neither of us thought he’d… I can’t believe…”

Anj knows it too. 

He felt his brow furrow as his mind reached for pieces he couldn’t quite see the shape of. Lu had always been quiet, not outgoing but also never rude. He was kind but never offered much up about himself. In fact, the brief conversation he’d had with Chuckles and Helly just before the explosion might have been the most words Chuckles had ever heard him utter at once. But try as he might, he couldn’t find anything in all of his interactions that would point to some reasoning behind Lu’s actions. 

His head still fucking hurt. 

Checking one last time to make sure the kids were both still fast asleep, he crept up the stairs and out of the ship. The cool night air felt good against his skin as his feet carried him towards the schoolhouse as if they were on autopilot. His brain was still turning over everything when his boots hit the stairs. He was surprised when the door opened automatically, admitting him inside. 

Endi was still up, sitting at her desk. A small lamp illuminated the classroom, casting long shadows. When she looked up at him, he could see the toll the day had taken on her as well. Her dark curls hung loose to her shoulders, sticking up in every direction as if she’d been massaging her scalp. Dark circles were evident under her golden eyes, and her smile looked weary as she took him in. She powered off her datapad, coming around to the front of the desk. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said softly as he closed the distance between them. He pulled her against him, and he felt her arms wrap around him, her fingers carding through his mohawk again. He buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply as his lips brushed against her skin. 

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, stroking the nape of his neck. “I’m right here.” 

His head was still hurting, but he no longer cared. Chuckles grounded himself in the feel over her, the way her pulse leapt when his lips grazed the skin of her throat, the way he could smell the sweat of the day and her perfume, the way she shuddered slightly when his breath tickled her ear, the way her fingers tightened their grip on him as he pressed closer. 

He wanted more. 

Endi seemed to understand and denied him nothing, scooting back to sit on the desk and wrapping her legs around him. 

It was almost like the first night as he kissed her, his hands reaching under her skirts as her fingers fumbled with his belt, but it was a different type of urgency, a need to have her, a need to feel alive when death had brushed past him again. He leaned over Endi as she laid back on the desk, her heels digging into his back as he pumped himself a few times before sheathing his cock in her in one stroke. 

His pace was frantic, each snap of his hips scooting the desk slightly across the floor. Every muscle in his body was protesting and pain was flaring across his ribcage, but he ignored it all, focusing on the way Endi’s eyes found his, the way she sat up, gripping the front of his shirt, the way she kept whispering to him and kissing him and touching him. 

“I’m right here.”

“I need y-you,” he stuttered out. 

“Take what you want from me. I’m yours. I’m right here, Chuckles.” 

He came once, but his cock didn’t soften, and he only allowed himself a few moments to catch his breath before he resumed his pace, relishing in the way Endi writhed and mewled beneath him and the way his spend was pushed back out of her with every thrust. Sweat trickled down his brow, stinging the cuts on his skin, but all he cared about was the way Endi felt around him, pulsing and warm and his. He wanted to get lost in her, to fuck her until he forgot everything else that had happened, and when he came again, his knees buckled underneath him. Endi caught him and managed to ease him to the floor before he just collapsed. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled in between panted breaths.

“Don’t be. I’ll be right back,” she murmured, and he wasn’t certain if he acknowledged her or not. 

A few minutes later, she returned carrying two glasses of water, offering one to him. He took it and drank greedily before sitting back heavily against the front of her desk. Endi sank to the floor beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Did that help?” she asked softly. 

“Probably not the concussion or the busted ribs, but I do feel a bit better,” he joked. 

“You have a concussion?” He could hear the worry in her voice. 

“Not my first and definitely not my worst.” It was clear the humor did nothing to alleviate her worry, but she also didn’t fuss over him further. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, their fingers slowly intertwining as they both emptied their glasses of water. He could feel her fidgeting, wanting to ask but not wanting to push him. 

“It was Lu,” he said finally, his voice feeling rough. Saying it out loud made all of the emotions of the day come running back, and he took a deep shuddering breath. He felt Endi’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t ready to meet her gaze. “Lu blew up the mine. On purpose.”

“What?” Her shock was genuine. 

Good. Word wasn’t getting out yet. 

“I’m sure there’ll be an investigation,” he continued, letting the words tumble out of him. “Two Imperial inspectors were on site. Don’t think they made it out.” 

He was tired, and his head was hurting again, but this time, with worries he hadn’t disclosed to anyone. Of course there would be an investigation. They’d want to talk to everyone, especially the clone that showed up here out of the blue, the one that was in the mine when it happened. By and large, after the decommissioning, he hadn’t heard anything about clones in the newsfeeds. It was as though they’d essentially vanished from the galaxy, and with them, any trust and appreciation the public had for the soldiers that had fought for the Republic. 

Well, the Empire now. 

Would they look into his service record? Or would they only care about what he saw that day? He didn’t know anything. But would they believe that? 

“You’re worried.” 

Of course she could see it. She knew him. And he was tired of her not knowing all of him. 

It would be so easy. I can trust her. I trusted Ry and Oks and certainly didn’t spend as much time with them as I have with her. 

It would be so much easier. To tell her. To let there be no secrets between us. 

She was a source of comfort, and he needed to lean on someone right now. Her delicate fingers stroked the back of his neck soothingly, and he finally turned to meet her gaze. Golden irises searched his for answers he didn’t have. He rested his forehead against hers, allowing his eyes to drift closed. Her other hand rested against his unmarred cheek, and he basked in its warmth. 

It would be so much easier. 

“I don’t know what Lu was thinking,” she muttered, a sudden surge of anger creeping into her voice. “He’s put you all at risk now. Jerrno and Teef’s reputation. Anj’s leadership. Everything that’s been built here, everything you fought for.” She sighed. “After everything the Empire’s done in the past year, I can’t understand why he’d do such a thing.” 

Chuckles’s eyes opened. Endi kept talking, not noticing the way he was looking at her. 

“All you and your brothers fought for, so that we could have the life we have today, and here he is, tearing it down.” Her voice had changed. She wasn’t exactly shouting, but every word dripped with venom. “All these small terrorist uprisings and wasted lives and efforts, only making it harder on those around them, destroying instead of building. What a waste.” She blinked, exhaling sharply as if to calm herself. Her voice quieted. “I hope the fact that you and your brothers were able to win the war and quash the Jedi uprising brings you some peace in this moment. You’re heroes, and the Empire couldn’t have risen without you, Chuckles. It’ll persist in spite of these ill-intentioned anarchists, and for that, I’m thankful.” 

The gears in Chuckles’s mind ground to a screeching halt as he processed her words. He was certain he’d misheard her, but the way she was looking at him was as if she’d just commented on the weather rather than the murder of children and allies, assured him he had not.

“Heroes?” he asked stupidly. “You think what we did at the end of the war was heroic?”

“Well of course. Otherwise, the Jedi may have succeeded in killing Emperor Palpatine and overthrowing the Republic. The war may have dragged on for years if they hadn’t been stopped.” 

“Children were killed,” he gritted out without thinking, confusion and anger and renewed grief ripping through him. “Jedi younglings.” He glanced at her, trying to keep his face neutral. He wanted her to take back the words, to clarify her meaning, to show him that he had misunderstood her. Surely his concussion had made his mind foggy. His head really did hurt. 

Surely this was wrong. 

Endi blinked at him with confusion, her brow furrowing slightly. 

“War is an awful business. I understand that, Chuckles. I don’t think less of the clones for doing what needed to be done.” 

What needed to be done. 

He had to keep his grip in check as his mind faltered, trying to keep himself from shattering the empty water glass between his hands. 

“I wasn’t around for the end of the war. Wasn’t planetside. Didn’t follow the order,” he mumbled aimlessly, trying to weave his way through this conversation, trying to give her any out he could. “And we weren’t really given a choice in the matter.” 

Her fingers wrapped around his, less comforting than they had been a moment before, but still sickeningly warm. She took the glass from his hand, setting it down as she clasped his hands, and he met her golden eyes, the eyes he’d stared into so many nights, getting lost in them. Now, it felt as though he was looking at a stranger. 

She thinks what we did was heroic. That having our minds turned against us was the right thing. That killing all of those people, killing younglings was necessary?

How is that possible? How could I not see it?

“Whether or not you were there for the finale, you contributed, Chuckles. The galaxy we have today wouldn’t exist without your efforts,” she insisted. “Besides, from what I understand, the chips were just an insurance policy. To ensure loyalty amongst the clones where it didn’t already exist.” 

You shouldn’t need chips that control minds to garner loyalty. And my brothers would never have done that willingly. Ever. 

His stomach curdled at that thought. He resisted the urge to withdraw his hand from hers, but he could still feel himself leaning away from her, putting distance between the two of them.  

I never really knew her at all. 

Just like Lu.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he stuttered out.

It was true enough. She smiled warmly at him, and that soft, sweet smile sickened him now. His mind was racing for justifications, that she was just buying into the propaganda, that she didn’t understand what had actually happened, because there was no universe in which Endi, his version of her, would ever be alright with what had happened at the end of the war. This woman that sat across from him now wouldn’t have batted an eye if his children had been slaughtered, thinking it was justified, for the greater good. 

And here she sat, smiling at him. 

He’d kissed her. He’d bedded her. He might have loved her. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked. 

It felt as though Chuckles’s mouth had gone dry, his tongue a heavy leaden weight. He wanted to scream and shake her, to wake up from what was surely a nightmare. He dug his nails into his palm to be sure, and he felt a pinch of pain as they broke the top layer of skin. 

This was real. 

And now he had to be careful. He was concussed, he was hurt, he was reeling, but he couldn’t reveal anything that would condemn him or the kids. 

Endi was still watching him, concern etching her delicate features that he’d once found beautiful. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Today was hard enough without me ranting and raving about politics. Why don’t we go to bed?” She stood and reached for him, and before he could think about it, he recoiled. Her brows knitted together in confusion, and he internally swore at himself. 

Politics. That’s all she thinks this is. Just politics. 

For the greater good.

He tried to focus, but his brain was racing through memories he had with Endi, trying to remember if they’d ever talked about the Empire before. Surely they had. This had to be wrong. He had to have misunderstood. And then, with startling clarity in the fog of his concussion, it clicked into place. 

You made an assumption. You assumed she’d never support the Empire because she was too kind to, because how could someone so caring do that? 

And she assumed you did because you’re a clone soldier. 

“I-I don’t think I should stay tonight. The kids… they shouldn’t be alone tonight after everything,” he said hurriedly, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet while trying to meet her eyes. Her face was still pinched with confusion as she smoothed her skirts, but she seemed to accept his haphazard excuse. He forced what he hoped read as an apologetic smile into place. “Plus, not supposed to sleep much because of the concussion,” he choked out, tapping his temple with a finger. “Maybe another night.”

She nodded, unable to hide her disappointment. “Maybe.” 

Chuckles forced himself to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. She felt stiff under his touch. She wasn’t a fool; she knew something had shifted. He could tell, and he hated that he knew that, and he feared what suspicion it might draw. 

“Thanks for helping with the kids today,” he said quietly. “And… thanks for this.”

She dipped her head. “Of course. Goodnight then.” 

“Good night,” he replied. 

She was hurt, and he wanted to fix it because he hated hurting people he cared about.

How can you still care?

Because you haven’t accepted that she’s the person you just spoke to. 

He wanted to stand there and argue with her, but he knew he couldn’t, not with the physical and mental state he was in. Instead, he stumbled back out into the night, leaving a bewildered Endi standing in the empty schoolhouse.