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A grumble brushes a strip of hair down Alex’s face. The blonde-brown hair tickles his nose.
Zeb’s chest rises high. Alex downturns his mouth as the Lasat’s lungs collapse, jarring his eyes open at the force of the breath.
A deep hum rocks Zeb’s chest as his hand traces up Alex’s back. He seeks to retreat into Zeb’s fur, prolong the moment, but Zeb’s voice is clear:
“Let me up, Lex. ‘S already late.”
Alex turns his face into Zeb’s exposed chest. He inhales the fur, which smelled like festive spices, and exhales slowly.
“We never get to have this,” Alex murmurs.
It is not meant to sound melancholic, but it does anyway. Zeb’s heavy breaths halt as the arm around his stomach tightens.
Alex struggles to breeze past Zeb’s unease. He ends up lifting his head from Zeb’s chest. Nonetheless, Alex remains very much in his partner’s embrace, which had not budged the entire night.
“Just give me a minute,” Alex settles on, a quiet request.
Zeb’s green eyes are considerate. Alex pinpoints the exact second Zeb softens before he nods, then recognizes a glint that sparks rebellion.
Before Alex could react, Zeb maneuvers so Alex is thrown on top of him. Alex laughs and molds into the fur. Zeb’s limbs capture him entirely, wrapping him in a heated blanket.
Alex tips his head up just in time for Zeb to snatch his lips. He smiles, his partner’s irresistible warmth leading him forward, deepening the good morning kiss. Zeb’s arms come around his bare back and hold him in place.
After several moments of brushing cheeks for Lasat kisses, the intercom system filters into Zeb’s room.
“Garazeb Orrelios,” Hera’s strict voice cuts through the atmosphere like a blade, “I’m not a patient woman. Sabine and I are waiting.”
Zeb sighs as he pulls back. As Alex recovers quickly, it takes Zeb a few seconds to blink his eyes into awareness. Alex can’t help the prideful smile at distracting Zeb so effectively.
When Zeb sees this smile, he rolls his eyes. “Okay, now ya really ‘ave to get offa me.”
Alex obliges rather than quip. Hera was a terrifying woman, sometimes, and he didn’t want to be the cause of her ire if he could help it.
As Alex shifts to his side of Zeb’s bed, the Lasat rolls out of the bunk in shorts. Alex doesn’t peek as Zeb puts on his usual outfit, though he wants to. Very badly.
Zeb’s clunky gait indicates a moment later that he put on his armor, so Alex deems it safe to look. Blasters are holstered on his pant straps, and Zeb emits a sad sigh.
Alex pretends he doesn’t hear it. He chirps, “good luck on your mission.”
That gets humor to reach Zeb’s eyes as he stands near the bedroom door. “Have fun with borin’ Jedi.”
The door whooshes open. Alex replies with a snicker.
Zeb turns and exits the room. The door seals shut.
Alex sighs, clamoring out of bed at last. He picks up the black pants and beige Rebel uniform he discarded the moment he got Zeb alone in this room. Neither are one to waste time.
He has been on the Ghost for two weeks now, and their outer rim exploration was coming to an end. They would dock on Atollon tomorrow after a final cargo retrieval mission. Hera, Zeb, and Sabine will make short work of it on the Phantom.
Until then, Alex had to spend the day confined to the main freighter with Kanan, Ezra, and Chopper. Two weird Jedi and a murderous astromech.
Fun.
After Alex fixes his appearance, smoothing out the clothes, he leaves Zeb’s room. Meandering through the hallway, he surpasses a series of voices in the family room. He curbs towards the kitchen instead.
Breezing into the small space, Alex halts at Chopper jostling his arms. Ezra’s face is screwed up into annoyance as he curls up at the table.
“Go bother Kanan,” Ezra gripes. He looks down at something on the table, thumbing a rectangular shape. “I’m not in the mood.”
Chopper sounds offended, but his claws retract. His dome head rotates, emitting a counterattack before wheeling away.
Ezra scoffs, picking up a writing utensil. He observes the object, a flimsi, and furrows his brows in concentration.
Alex walks to the counter. Procuring a mug from a cupboard, he focuses on starting a cup of caf. He does not look at Ezra, even though he is curious. Ezra’s birthday was yesterday, and the negative shift in his mood today was...odd.
And Alex could only stare at a blank cupboard for so long…
He looks at the caf machine, at the mug, and at Ezra.
Oh hell.
Alex looks directly at Ezra. The teenager grows more and more with every encounter. He is lean and harsh, eyes demanding and imposing. The hair that Ezra shaved down was finally returning, softening the angular frame of his jaw and nose. He hunches over the table with a flimsi, using a pen to create curves.
Leaning slightly, Alex registers that Ezra is drawing. While he doesn’t know what it is, the fact that Ezra is concentrating so hard must mean something.
Suddenly, Ezra snaps his head to Alex. “May I help you?” He clips.
Alex bats his lashes, outwardly collected. He knows they have not spoken much. Ezra was slow to forgive Alex for all that he’s done to them. Alex understands it well enough, so he doesn’t take offense.
Rifling through possible replies, he chooses one that he hopes is the least combative. “I didn’t know you could draw.”
Ezra seems thrown by this response. Alex takes advantage of the beat to pour his steaming caf. The mug warms his hands.
Alex approaches the other side of the table. “May I?”
After some hesitation, Ezra’s gaze tears away from Alex. He leans against his side of his booth. Alex takes it as permission, sliding into the confined space. He lifts the caf to his mouth and sips before setting it down; the coldness to his body temperature spikes when he leaves Zeb’s warmth, and it had to be staved off quickly.
He garnered Ezra’s attention, brow arched in perpetual puzzlement.
“Uh, yeah,” Ezra says with a blink, “I can draw, just nowhere near as good as Sabine. No one knows, so I’d appreciate you being quiet about it.”
Alex’s eyes drift down to the flimsi. It is a portrait, shoulders up to the head. From what he can tell from his upside-down vantage point, it is a teenage boy. Based on the way the sketch of this boy looked, he must be imaginary. No one’s face is that symmetrical.
And Alex had to disagree with Ezra. “I think it’s very good. Is it a character?”
“No,” Ezra frowns, “it’s my boyfriend.”
Alex blinks. He looks back down at the sketch. Looks at Ezra. The sketch. And to Ezra.
“What,” Ezra snorts bemusedly, “am I not an absolute catch?”
Alex recognizes the humor, but does not smile. “I didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”
Ezra says haughtily, “yeah, well I didn’t know you were banging Zeb until last week, so we’ve both been surprised on this trip, alright?”
“I don’t bang Zeb,” Alex says coolly, sipping his caf, “I make love to him.”
Ezra proceeds to heave, choking on his own air. “Ew!” He darts towards the kitchen and says, “oh Chopper, where are you? I prefer your-”
Alex puts an end to the dramatics by swiping the flimsi. He turns it so he can view the artwork properly on his side of the table.
“Hey,” Ezra folds his arms and says harshly, “that’s for his birthday tomorrow! Don’t mess it up!”
Until this second, Alex still thought Ezra was joking about the ‘boyfriend’ thing. He was a former ISB agent; if Ezra had a boyfriend, he feels like he would have found out himself, or it would’ve come up at least once before now.
But looking down at the sketch, Alex realizes this kid must be something special. Sacred, even. Secretive, perhaps on purpose.
Alex pushes the flimsi back to Ezra before a vein bursts in the teenager’s forehead. “I apologize. I’m too curious for my own good.”
“Is that why you got caught?” Ezra quips.
“Yes,” Alex answers honestly.
An intercom transmission alerts the Ghost to Hera deploying with Sabine and Zeb. Kanan must answer back from the cockpit, because the same message is not relayed again. Alex’s eyes leave the intercom. Ezra had not tipped his head up to hear it better.
Ezra regards the flimsi. He rotates it and purses his lips in contemplation. He flicks his eyes towards Alex. “You’ve never seen my boyfriend in person, have you?”
Alex shakes his head.
“Luke’s pretty elite,” Ezra says warily, “so I could see why you didn’t recognize him. You’re still a newbie.”
“Luke,” Alex repeats, digesting the name.
Ezra looks like he wants to say more, but he holds his tongue. Kanan only accepted his presence because he trusts Hera’s judgement, and Hera only likes him for his dedication to Zeb. Sabine only tolerates him because of his loyalty to the Rebel Alliance, and Ezra could hardly stand being in the same room as him.
“Well,” Alex grasps the mug, “I’m sure Luke will like the gift.”
As he slides away from the table, Ezra sighs, “why do you love Zeb, anyway?”
Alex pauses before standing. He turns back to the table while in a sitting position. He is unsure what provoked the question, but he recognizes an olive branch when it is offered.
“I mean, I’ve known him for years and I still can’t stand him most of the time,” Ezra says.
Alex returns to his spot across the table. He sips his caf to hide a smile at the remark.
“Well,” he considers, “you’re right that he pisses me off daily, but that’s how he is. I suppose,” he pauses, “I love him because he’s good to those he cares about. He has a good heart. He’d do anything for any one of you, though he’ll act grouchy about it.”
“Sounds like you hate him too,” Ezra rolls his eyes, “and you’ve only proven my point.”
“No,” Alex disagrees, “I simply prefer to ignore his worst qualities to favor his best.”
“Grouchy isn’t a good quality,” Ezra says.
Alex emits a sigh. “I can’t defend Zeb’s abrasiveness. I can just say that I love him.”
Ezra is silent for a moment. He looks at the sketch and exhales deeply through his nose. “Yeah, I think Luke’s too good for me too.”
Alex is surprised at the boy’s perception, though his mystical Force might have something to do with it as well.
“Though I will admit his hero complex pisses me off,” Ezra says off-handedly.
“One of those, huh?” Alex asks. He doesn’t know why Ezra suddenly confides in him, but he doesn’t want to disturb his thoughts.
“I get that he likes to save everyone, and I love that about him,” Ezra’s mouth downturns, “I just wish he didn’t hide his pain to reassure everyone.”
He seems to realize something, and he winces.
“Zeb,” Ezra says, “right.” He sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you right now. Did you mind trick me without me knowing about it?”
Alex hides his expression in his lashes. He finishes his caf. “I’ve been told my presence is welcoming to conversation.”
“And the Empire manipulated that ability,” Ezra reads between the lines. “Makes sense.”
As Alex looks away, Ezra’s arms fold onto the tabletop. He saves the sketch on the flimsi and is quiet for a brief moment.
“I’m sorry,” Ezra says, “that was insensitive of me to bring up.”
Alex says nothing. As always, a memory of him sitting alone in his room on a Star Destroyer resurfaces. He was so lonely back then. He yearned for the family that Zeb made for himself, the very family on this starship. It was strange to believe that he was here, that he didn’t have to be afraid anymore. And he had a good man to love.
“You can continue, if you like,” Alex says carefully, fixating on the boy’s uncertain face, “talking. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
Ezra is wary, as expected, but his posture soon settles in the booth. He folds his hands over his lap.
Exhaling, he says, “Kanan gets annoyed when I talk about Luke too much. I suppose you’ll do.”
Alex does not reply to the contrary. It is sweet, seeing a side of Ezra that he hides. Alex wouldn’t take too well to being unable to express his feelings for Zeb, either.
So he lets Ezra talk. He learns about the most powerful Jedi, and Ezra trusts Alex not to mention it outside of the room.
They stay that way for half of the day until Kanan comes to retrieve Ezra for training.
“Wanna come watch?” Ezra asks him as he is leaving the kitchen.
Alex notes the way Kanan’s back straightens in disapproval. Since the man is blind, it does not show on his face, but Alex takes the prompt.
“I’ll leave you both to it,” Alex says breezily.
Ezra nods and smiles despite the rejection. He follows Kanan to the cargo hold, since that area is the most spacious on the freighter.
Alex cleans his mug, exits the kitchen, and moves to the family room. He finds Chopper there.
The astromech unplugs from a port and immediately converses in binary with him. A bit stunned, Alex focuses hard on the droid’s language to discern it.
“You want me to,” Alex squints, “fix your paint job?”
Chopper explains that Sabine puts coats of paint on him as disguises but the finishing touches are always imprecise.
“Why me?” Alex furrows his brows.
Chopper replies he’s the only person that hasn’t pissed him off on this ship lately.
Alex is now very scared of this droid. He makes a note to be kind to Chopper. Always.
“Okay,” Alex agrees.
Chopper shows him to Sabine’s paint and brushes, ones that she rarely uses. He instructs that he wants flames instead of stripes for Luke.
“Flames?” Alex is daunted, but he conceals the majority of his fears. “For Luke’s birthday?”
Chopper retracts his arms and pretends they are muscles to show off. Alex laughs before he can catch himself.
“Sure,” Alex masks his amusement, before realizing the astromech didn’t mind it, leaving a smile plastered to his face, “let’s go to the table so I can sit.”
Chopper follows Alex as he brings the paints. He sits at the checkerboard table and gathers art materials. He dips the finely-tipped brush in red paint.
Meticulously, Alex creates flames on Chopper’s dome. The blazes come out curvy at first, but he manages to incorporate sharp edges as well.
He doesn’t know how much time goes by, but Alex’s back aches when he leans away, finally finished with the design. Chopper hardly made a sound the entire time, but the excitement in the little droid was palpable.
Chopper immediately rockets to a mirror across the room. He screeches and rotates his head in clear elation. His arms spin and he thanks Alex.
Smiling softly, Alex murmurs, “you’re welcome.”
Chopper says he’s going to show Ezra, then promptly leaves the family room. Alex is alone again.
Sighing, he procures a flimsi. He opens a blank sheet and types reports.
This lasts for only a couple minutes before Ezra skips inside. “Duuuude!” He laughs. “I didn’t know you could draw too!”
Alex is sheepish at his enthusiasm. “Me neither.”
Ezra is bubbly, so unlike how he was when Alex approached him this morning. “Luke’s so gonna get a kick outta this!”
Kanan frames the doorway and says tiredly, “don’t disturb our guest while he’s doing our paperwork.”
Ezra winks, but does as Kanan says. As he walks out of the room, Kanan lingers.
“They’ll be arriving back any minute,” Kanan reports.
“Okay,” Alex says. The blind man rarely spoke, so he expected Kanan to leave.
He doesn’t.
“Thank you,” Kanan contemplates, “for listening to Ezra.”
Before Alex could reply, Kanan is gone.
Jedi.
Alex works on reports all through the arrival of the Phantom cargo. He ignores footsteps and clipped conversations as the group settles into their home.
Eventually, Hera enters the family room. She stands in front of the table and crosses her arms. He figured this would happen.
“I’m sorry,” Alex says genuinely, “yes, I should have consulted with you before painting your droid.”
Hera narrows her eyes, but the anger dies out in a spark. One side of her mouth is lopsided.
“Chopper does what he wants,” she says, “so I don’t think I could’ve stopped him even if I were here.”
Alex latches to the strictness left unsaid. He knows he must do as she commands.
Hera reports, “meals are ready.”
Alex saves the reports, rises from the table, and follows her wordlessly. When they reach the kitchen, Alex glances at Zeb with Kanan. Before he can talk to his partner, Sabine praises him on Chopper’s paint job. Alex shyly thanks her and converses with her for a lot of the meal. Ezra pipes in as well, his ease with Alex surprising Hera and Kanan.
Dinner is cleared away when Alex realizes Zeb has been staring at him for the past hour. Heat blooms from his collar at those unflinching eyes on him.
The family gathering soon breaks up, each member retreating to their own rooms. The Ghost must be halfway to Atollon, so they are on course for landing in the morning.
Alex is alone in the kitchen with Zeb. They are across the table, diagonally positioned due to Alex being crowded by two excitable teenagers.
Zeb slides to be closer to Alex, the table between them. His face is hard to read, but he recognizes fondness in his partner’s gaze.
“Didn’t realize you were popular,” Zeb grumbles, “and I’d ‘ave to fight for your attention.”
Alex smiles at Zeb’s dry humor, a brand that they shared. He lets his affection shine in his expression. “You have my attention now.”
Zeb grasps for Alex’s arms, which were folded on the table. Alex allows his partner to bring his hand to his lips. Zeb kisses each knuckle before holding it close to his furry chest.
“‘M glad ya enjoyed yourself,” Zeb says genuinely.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” Alex asks.
Zeb grins. “Oh, I sure did. Got a whole squadron of ‘em myself.”
“Oh,” Alex is impressed, “really?”
Zeb hums low. “‘M tired. Wanna head to bed?”
Alex’s heart thuds. “Course.”
Zeb proceeds to carry Alex to bed. He chuckles the whole way, surprised yet glad they don’t run into anyone on the path to Zeb’s bedroom.
When night becomes morning, Alex waits on the docking ramp as the Ghost spills onto the Atollon base. A freighter he hasn’t seen before is docked alongside them, and it looks to be from a fancy core world.
Ezra practically runs to this starship, unfamiliar personnel exiting the freighter. The small crowd trickles away as Ezra reaches the base of the ramp.
Then, as if the entire universe parts for him, the boy who must be Luke glides down the ramp. He floats, suspended in the glow of Atollon’s sun. Luke’s hair halos and his white clothes are set alight. A sun god.
Ezra eats up the distance between them, his shorter head tipping to meet Luke’s eyes. They pause on top of the ramp. Ezra says something. Luke smiles and laughs.
And when Ezra goes in for the kiss, Luke melts into him. Their arms wrap around each other as the sun dapples their reunion.
An arm curves over Alex’s shoulder, pressing his back against a furry chest. Alex flicks his head up at Zeb’s purple beard. Leans up to peck a kiss there.
When he looks back to the scene before him, Ezra is showing Luke the flimsi sketch and Chopper’s paint job. The boy’s happiness at both birthday gifts radiates across the entire base. Ezra bathes in Luke’s open resplendence.
As Zeb holds him, Alex sighs in contentment. They stay that way until they are requested elsewhere.