what kind of gay shit is this

Ty woke with a start, his hand flying to his chest as the feeling of rows and rows of teeth slowly faded from his psyche, the smooth silk of his shirt cool against the old scars that criss crossed his chest. As his breathing slowed, his gaze was drawn to the long expanses of transparasteel windows. Through them was a blue planet, the Liberator idling in its rings. He had chosen this spot not only for its beauty, but for its usefulness. The Finalizer was a star system over, and though it was not exactly wise, being closer to his old squadron made his nightmares easier.

Usually, anyway.

Standing, Ty spared a glance at the crystal ball he’d left behind in his haste, wrapped in the blankets like a children’s toy. Though his fingers itched for his favorite avenue of comfort, of late he’d been… privvy to another.

With a small sigh, the pirate captain squared his shoulders and headed into the corridor, bare feet padding against the durasteel as he moved into the corridor, the only sound the almost silent hum of the Liberator and the snores of his crew. The room he was looking for was only at the other end of the hall, in the old captain’s quarters.

It was there the ex-stormtrooper found him. Merce was splayed across the bed his arms tucked around his pillow and his hair mussed from sleep. The image made Ty’s insides squirm with a warmth that was almost foreign, as its existence had been absent for years. He had, of course, felt it in dreams, and woken twice as lonely, but having it caused by someone who was actually in front of him was new.

Now, at least, he could feel it and let it work its way across his face, safe in the shadows with the only one who could catch it sound asleep.

It wasn’t until he slipped into bed beside the dancer, his arms wrapping around his lithe body and his cheek resting on his shoulder that Ty’s heartbeat began to slow. Merce’s eyes fluttered for only a moment, the ex-stormtroopers name a half formed question that melted into a tired groan as the captain’s lips met the dancer’s. It was a slow sort of embrace, sweet and gentle like a nap on a beach planet. 

“Is this okay?” Ty’s voice was soft, his answer coming when Merce rolled over and backed himself into his hold. Now spooning the dancer, Ty finally relaxed. The dancer was quickly back to sleep, and Ty… well. It was easier to fall asleep when he wasn’t alone. Even if Merce was probably expecting something a little more… compromising, right now the captain was content to just close his eyes.