Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last tunes of the Dha Werda Verda have long since faded away. Kal went outside for some airing, Niner resumed his game of knife-throwing with the Deltas, much to the service droid's chagrin. Atin and Darman are nowhere to be seen and Ordo… maybe he should take a picture of that scene. As evidence.

Fi decides against it.

He shouldn’t begrudge his brother the pleasure of having someone who cares for him so deeply. Still - it hurts. It’s getting worse lately. His longing for some tenderness or even just a little of that human touch he gets to glimpse at is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Every time he sees civilians walk hand in hand on one of the brightly illuminated boulevards of Galactic City or that blissful smile on Darman’s or Atin’s face whenever they come back to the barracks after a date it feels as if his armor is getting a little tighter around his chest and squeezing the air out of his lungs. At first he thought that he might just be jealous but the longer he thought about it… no. Jealousy is when you are consumed with anger about another person’s fortune - and that he is definitely not. He rejoices in his brothers' happiness, and as a clone he is even somehow connected to their emotions in a way that civilians and natborns would never understand. What he feels is desolation. Emptiness. Plain and simple. Caused by the inevitable way his life will turn out. Of all the things the kaminiise took from them, humanity and need for affection were not among them. Maybe the fact has a purpose or maybe it is just another cruelty they are making them endure. He shouldn’t think about it for the sake of his own sanity.

Taking a sip of his drink, juice not beer, he turns his head to look at a group of three girls sitting at the bar only a little away. They giggle and point at him, putting their heads together to chat, no doubt still amused by his earlier explanation of how easy the armor is to take off. He winks and basks in the glances he gets from them. Now it would be so easy to just walk over and start another trivial conversation. If he only intended to, he could hook up with one of them. Probably all of them - at once. He swallows at the sinful thought, hazy pictures of him on a bed with these women surrounding him flash through his mind. And for a second he contemplates… Fi feels a flare of arousal as he thinks of them rubbing up against cold, unyielding Katarn, taking his... ohhh fierfek. Absent-mindedly, he licks his lips which makes the girls gazing at him with darkening eyes. Sure, lust is an alluring prospect.

And still it feels - wrong. Kal’buir gave them enough credits so that he could ask one of the girls out, pay for her drinks and see how the evening would turn out, happy ending included. Or he could easily spend a night in a brothel or whatever ridiculous code names these places are called. But if he’s honest with himself that’s not what he wants. No matter how many times he grates on Niner’s nerves with remarks about his peerless charisma and the kind of pleasures the ladies miss out on when they neglect him, all he wants is someone to truly see him, to hold him, to give him arms to rest in. Somehow he doubts that those girls would be the kind of woman he’s longing for. There’s something else they see in him. Something more carnal. Again he feels like he’s separated from the world by an enormous transparisteel window and this time he’s the exhibit. Somehow it’s even worse than being neglected. Shaking his head with a sad smile, he tilts his head downwards to let his gaze rest on the almost empty glass in his hand.

“Fi! Exactly the man I was looking for!” Jaller Obrim’s voice catches his ear.

Oh no. Fi can’t stand another conversation about all the iniquities the clones have to face. He wanted an easy-going evening, a drink with friends - he got another display of how different his own life is from any other. His heart can’t cope with the blatant injustice even less than his mind. But it's too late for him to hide, and so he does what he always does: he obeys.

“At your service.” He doesn’t even bother to look up from his glass.

“Good. Cause I need a hero.”

Jaller Obrim pats his hand on Fi’s shoulder as soon as he’s standing next to him and if it weren’t for the pauldron, the commando could feel him squeeze amicably. Fi wishes the captain would stop calling him that. At first it was nice, a boost for his ego, now it only feels like a burden. He did his job.The whole move was a shabla trained reaction with an immodest amount of luck. Nothing less… yet also nothing more. Ordo understands. He considers Obrim as a friend. But that lie stands between them, and Fi isn’t brave enough to sort things out. Not after all this time. Not when he hears the girls snicker.

“You’re lucky I’m available, Sir.”

Eventually, Fi turns his head to face the older man - and then all of a sudden freezes as his eyes fall on you. And for what is probably the first time in his life, he can’t think of something witty to say. Not at all. His mind - blank. Oh great!

“Uhm… hi.”

Osik! Dar would laugh his shebs off if he would get to witness this astounding display of perplexity and Niner would be polite enough to keep silent and then smirk and commit this moment to memory - forever.

“May I introduce you to my sister-in-law?” Jaller says and then tells him your name.

Fi has to swallow, his mouth suddenly very dry before he manages to answer that his name is Fi and that he’s pleased to meet you. His palms sweaty inside as he reaches out to take your hand that you politely extend to him. Good thing he’s wearing his gloves.

“Jaller already told me so much about you, Fi. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Have you been there all evening? And if so… why didn’t he see you sooner? But then it dawns on him what you just have said, namely that Obrim was talking about him and his brothers at home. He's already told him before during their unpleasant conversation. But… with you? About him? What did he tell you? Hopefully not again the heroic story from the spaceport and the taking of hostages. One more person for whom he has to maintain the myth of the hero. Somehow the whole thing is weighing heavily on him.

“Hopefully only the good things,” he manages to answer.

“Mh-hmmm. Would be much better to hear the bad things from you, anyway. If there are any.”

Then you smile at him, sweetly and mischievously alike, with that almost imperceptible lasciviousness and something he can’t comprehend just yet. Not at all as obvious as the girls still sitting at the bar and watching the show with idle curiosity. It’s making his cheeks prickle with a pleasant warmth and he blushes slightly.

“I see you already get along. That is nice,” Jaller interrupts his thoughts. “Now let’s get to my request, Fi.” He straightens his posture and puts on that air of importance. All-captain. “ Would you please be so kind as to escort her home. It’s already late and I don't feel comfortable with the thought of letting her walk home alone.”

..........

He doesn’t know how it happened and he can’t remember what he said, but only ten minutes later Fi is standing outside the CSF staff and social club with you next to him and has a hard time breathing.

“Lead the way, ma’am. I follow.”

As soon as he says the words, he curses himself for his own stupidity. But luckily you only smile and intend him to come along with a gentle tilt of your head.

“Oh please, Fi! Don’t call me ma’am. It only makes me feel old and… prim.” No. ‘Prim’ is a word he definitely would use in a sentence along with your name.

“My apologies m-… mesh’la.” Fierfek. That’s even worse! And no, you don’t do him the favor and fail to hear what he just said… or ignore it.

“Mesh’la?” You turn around enough to face him, and suddenly Fi finds his own boots very interesting. “What does it mean? You don’t call me ‘ma’am’ just in another language - sir?!” You chuckle.

Truth or a white lie? In a split second, Fi makes his decision. It’s not that he’s going to see you again anyway. He raises his head to look back at you, his expression something between genuine and shy. Dar would say embarrassed.

“No. It means beautiful.”

While he still ponders if he should apologize for his cheekiness, you hesitate in your tracks. He didn’t expect you to glow… but you do as you smile at him, and he swallows when he realizes it’s because of him. And then you nudge his arm with your shoulder before you resume your walk home.

“Thank you.”

By his standards he’s remarkably quiet on the walk. Should he offer you an arm or should he clasp his hands behind his back? Just doing nothing with his hands right now seems incredibly difficult and wrong and… why didn’t Kal’buir prepare them for a moment like that? Right… because it was never supposed to happen and there’s probably no point in worrying what you might think of him.

“Are you okay, Fi? You look pretty sad. I noticed that you already looked like that back in the club while the others seemed more cheerful.”

Now, he probably shouldn’t bother you with his troubles or the kind of thoughts that haunt him day in and day out since he came to Coruscant. But whenever he tries to speak about it with his brothers they either react - in Dar’s and Atin’s case - abashed, or - as Sev or Niner - try to play down the issue and tell him that he shouldn’t worry too much as their life’s already short enough to chase desires beyond their reach.

“It’s nothing. Coruscant just doesn’t seem to be my favorite place. Too much clutter.”

Again, another lie. Fi does like Coruscant. He actually loves the place. The lights. The life. He just doesn't like the fact that no matter how much he longs for it or how hard he tries, he will never be a part of it, and just remains a distant side note that will fade away sooner or later.

“And I’d say it’s the other way round too.” Fi gives you what he hopes is a confident smile before he adds: “Won’t recommend the planet for the Kaminoan guidebook for clones. Only one star for the view.”

In the remaining minutes on the walk from the club to your apartment, you listen to him talking about his past days and some of the tricky situations he’s been through. Jaller already told you a little at home, but without details of course. His stories were still what made you curious - and finally you asked the captain if he could take you with him to the club. But then, when you saw Fi for the first time in the flesh, you were too shy to talk to him with all the girls swarming around him like bees around a honeypot. He seemed to enjoy all the attention and you were smitten by his easy-going demeanor, the shifts and expressions on his handsome face. If you had known that he only hid behind a cheerful facade, you would have joined him much sooner and not only when you witnessed the shadow creeping into his gaze.

But now you walk alongside him, chuckle, and are all eyes at the all too vivid narration of a hazardous taxi ride through Galactic City with a jedi out of control and two commandos somehow scared to death. You feel the ache in your heart when you read between the lines and listen to the things he doesn’t say. Doesn’t he see? He’s right in the middle of this beehive of a planet, not alone at all… but with you… and…
Your apartment complex comes into view. Much too soon.

“This is where I live. Thank you for escorting me.”

“You’re welcome, mesh’la.”

You stop walking and then stand in front of him, turning towards the commando to look at him for a last goodbye. But then words fail you and you nervously chew on your bottom lip. The warm glow of Coruscant’s street lights reflect on his armor and his black hair, making Fi shine and look fairly desirable. Even more than you already thought. His eyes rest on you and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do. Neither do you.

But in a brief moment of daring, you stand on tiptoes and lean forward… and you press a gentle kiss on the soft spot below his ear. You close your eyes while you let your lips linger just a little longer and your warm breath fans over his skin. All of a sudden, you forget the world around you and all you can sense is his masculine scent and how his pulse is pounding under your lips. His short hair tickling on your forehead. His warmth. You feel dizzy and as if you lose the ground under your feet. When you pull back with a breathy sigh, you still taste his sweat and your hands tremble.

“Good night, Fi. And please take care!”

You turn around to go inside just as you hear him whisper: “Good night…”

His hand is raised as if he wanted to hold you, but then decided otherwise at the very last moment. The surrounding noises swallow his last word - something that sounds like ‘shareeka’. You let out a breath that you weren’t aware of holding as the door closes behind you. He knows how to find you…
Please! Please don’t let this be the last time you saw him.

Stunned and left speechless, Fi is standing in front of your closed door. His eyes are still closed and your kiss still tingles on his skin. His soul left his body the moment when you parted your lips just enough to nibble on his neck. If only he tries hard enough he still can feel your breath on him and hold you tight. If only he doesn’t open his eyes you are still here with him.

Moments pass in which he stays silent. Seconds, minutes… Who cares?

Fi grabs his helmet tied to his belt and dons it. And then he’s screaming at the top of his lungs while the city around doesn’t hear him.

Chapter Text

Another thirty minutes until the Redeemer will dock on Coruscant and Omega Squad will be back at - Fi decides to call it ‘home’ in lack of a better word - after almost two months of absence. He never cared where he was before as long as his brothers are with him. As long as they have their backs. But this time he feels kind of restless. On one hand he can’t be back soon enough, on the other hand being lightyears away would save him from making a decision.

“Shower, food, sleep,” Dar eventually says like he usually does, sequencing his basic needs, while they sit in the hangar and enjoy the confines of their helmets to isolate themselves from the fuss of the surrounding area. A casual observer would have thought they’d take a nap, with their arms crossed in front of their chests and their legs casually propped up on the hutches. Internal comms are a blessing.

“Food, shower, sleep,” Atin answers as always and of course both men don’t list the obvious: namely how to spend the time before sleep in the arms of their girlfriends.

“Sleep. Sleep. And then more sleep,” Niner adds his own desires.

The whole conversation is a habit that somehow became a tradition when they were shipped in. Clones don’t need much… Right? He misses his entry. It would be his turn to answer that Niner would sleep much better and would have much sweeter dreams if only he’d have a woman beside him in bed to make a mess on the sheets. Niner would answer that the day he can stop worrying about his di’kutla brothers will be the day he’ll give in to the pleasure.

“Fi? Are you okay, ner vod?” It takes him a moment to realize that Atin addresses him.

“Huh? Ah… naas.”

“It’s not nothing when you are quiet like that.”

Fi isn’t sure if he wants to discuss his train of thoughts with his brothers, but then again there’s no point in keeping them out of something they already know. The night he came back to the ARCA barracks after escorting you home and taking a looong detour, he found his brothers waiting for him, curious and excited. He still remembers the silent moans when he told them about your kiss… and the baffled faces as he said that you turned away and left him without an inkling of how this thing should go on. They spent each and every spare minute on their last mission to discuss the matter. He spent hours dreaming about you. Of how your lips felt on his skin.

“Will you go and visit her?” Dar asks, but something in his voice tells that it’s not a question rather a gentle prompt.

“I don’t know,” Fi answers truthfully. “She didn’t say that she wanted me to come and pay her a visit.”

“But she didn’t say that she doesn’t want you to come either.” Mir’sheb. Fi can practically see Dar wiggling his eyebrows behind his visor. Still, it doesn’t help.

“No, she didn’t say anything at all.” Except your eyes. Your eyes that told him to… Fi groans quietly and closes his own eyes for the nth time in agony, trying to remember the moment and what you wanted him to do.

“What if… she already has a boyfriend?” He remarks hesitantly. It almost sounds like an excuse.

“I don’t think Jaller Obrim would have asked his local hero to guide his sister-in-law home the way he did if he knew there’s someone else for her,” Niner says. “But just to be sure - Do you want me to contact Ordo and ask him for a background check?”

“What? No!”

..........

Ordo still did a background check. Firstly because Niner is and will ever be a naysayer to the core and secondly - Fi suddenly remembered that he didn’t know your surname and in an apartment complex with about one thousand inhabitants it would have taken him some time to ascertain behind which door you’d be. It’s not that he wouldn’t have knocked on each single door just to find you. He would have… even if it would have taken him a lifetime. But other than your name he refused to get any information. It just didn’t seem right. The fact that Ordo didn’t comm Fi himself to dissuade him from seeing you can only mean he has nothing to worry about. And yet his heart’s in his mouth as Fi rings your apartment doorbell. His other hand clutches at his helmet.

Seconds pass, and he is amazed at how time passes just as slowly as if he were in combat. He even has the same trepidation. No, truth to be told, if he were in combat and waited for a plasma charge to hit him, he’d act more brave and confident. That’s what he’s been trained for. But this very moment… Even if there's no detonation awaiting him behind your closed door - your reaction could be just as devastating. What if he read your signals all wrong and the only reason you flirted with him was because you were tipsy or horny or both and all you wanted was an adventure for the night? A night long gone. What if you were interested in him… and then he forfeited the chance because he just stood there and went away? You probably moved on. It’s not that he’s special… well he is… he knows and his brothers do, but there are hardly any civvies who’d be able to distinguish two clones. That’s what he learned on their black ops on Coruscant. He was a ghost among the living.

But you are you. Not these other girls. And no he didn’t imagine the smile you gave him, the way you looked at him, the way… you kissed him. There was a meaning behind it. He’s not the one to chicken out. He’s a commando. One of the best actually, no matter what the shabla Deltas say. Chin up, chest out, Fi inhales deeply… and then your door slides open.

“Fi?”

Your eyes meet. One. Two. Three..

“Fi!”

His helmet hits the ground with clatter as you fling your arms around him and he follows his instinct and holds you. The sound of his name on your lips lifts a burden from his shoulders, your reaction even more, and Fi - the witty, talkative Fi who usually graces his brothers with his pearls of wisdom of human nature - shines through.

“Just Fi? No: ‘I am glad that you are back home, darlin’?”

He chuckles at the cute sound you make. “Must have left you quite speechless then, cyar’ika.” But he falls silent as you crane your neck to look him straight in his eyes. There it is again, that unfamiliar, tingling sensation inside his belly from nervousness and excitement.

“I am glad that you are back with me safely… Fi,” you eventually answer after you watched him for a few wonderful moments and he felt as if you looked straight into his soul.

And then you stand on tiptoes as you did the last time he saw you and gently peck the corner of his mouth. Too close to his lips to be considered a slip… too far away for him to catch your mouth in the desperate kiss he longs to give. Then the moment is gone. All he can do is to look down on you with regret as you let go of him, stoop and pick up his helmet.

“Do you want to come inside, Fi? I wonder when the neighbors will get nosy.”

He follows. All insecure.

Your apartment is small and cozy, the furniture white and the walls painted in a color that reminds him of the ocean on Kamino. Something between blue and gray. It suits you.

“I hope I am not too much of a bother,” he says carefully while his gaze travels along the walls to check the decorations and photographs. No pictures of a boyfriend, only you with Obrim and probably your sister. Some friends. Pictures from past vacation on a tropical planet.

“No, not at all. I was just… uhm… writing,” you reply and put away a datapad that laid on your couch. He could swear that you blush.

“Writing? What writing?” He wants to know and concentrates his attention on you.

“I… uhm… try myself at writing… stories. Uhmm… adventure and love stories.” Your voice dies down more and more, the last word barely more than whispered. Although he’s curious what it is you don’t say, he’s also polite enough not to pressure you. You relax, the embarrassment fading from your face. He watches the corners of your mouth twitch with a smile, the soft expression you have.

“Do you want to come and sit down with me, Fi, or do you want to stay rooted to the spot and just keep staring at me?”

Now it’s his time to turn red, at least a little. He wasn’t aware of staring at you. Fierfek, he even managed to forget that he’s in the middle of your apartment at all. But now there’s another problem he has to face… As soon as the Redeemer docked, he made his way over to your place. He didn’t even think about making a detour to the barracks, not wanting to waste a second, afraid he’d lose his confidence again once he made his decision.

“I can’t.“ He gestures down his shape.

“My armor is quite dirty. And I doubt the GAR will pay if you send them an invoice for chemical purification of your furnishing.”

Why does it feel so different to joke around you instead of his squad? He’s been making mistakes when it comes to you ever since he first saw you. Maybe coming over without a plan was another. And just like that he suddenly understands what Niner goes through right before a mission. Every. Single. Time. “Besides, I am smelly. So… I better head back to the barracks and take a shower. Join the boys at dinner… and… yeah… I just wanted to say ‘hi’ anyway…”He pauses a second and points at your door, then swallows before he resumes speaking. “I better leave now, mesh’la.”

Except… he can’t move. Cause you reached out and took a hold of his wrist.

“Or… you take your shower here in my bathroom and then we’ll eat out? Unless you would rather order some food instead.”

Did you just beg him to stay? Or is he just fantasizing? Either way he’s too stunned to process the next thing he says and words tumble from his mouth: “Sounds good. Want to join me?” Fierfek! What the…?

Your eyes focus instantly and Fi’s heart skips a beat… and another… and he’s utterly enthralled by the look that crosses your face as you walk a step closer to him. The tiny smile that grazes on your lips, just before you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Of course I’ll join you…” Ohhhhh… “...at dinner, Fi.” Oh.

You take another step towards him, and now your curves almost brush his chest plate as his hands come up to lightly grasp the curve of your hip. Fi desperately hopes it is the right thing to do. Smiling at him, you stand on tiptoes.

If you’d ask the commandos, the true benefit of Mark II Katarn-class commando armor in comparison to the previous Mark I is its accuracy of fit. Not the EMP resistance. But osi’kyr, it never felt so tight at his private parts as it does now. Comfort or not. But at least the shell saves him right now from touching you very indecently on accident.

“As for the shower...” you whisper softly against his cheek, before you brush your lips along his jawline.
Ohh. Ohhhh….

“... maybe next time.”

Maybe next time. He just has to make it out alive in the next battle. Easy.

As he nods silently in agreement you tell him that he should enjoy his time in the shower. How can he enjoy it when he’s so aware of your presence in the room next to him? How can he feel the droplets trickle down on him and not wish it would be your fingertips instead. Again there’s this discrepancy between his desires and reality. Separated by invisible barriers. And still he doesn’t dare to make a move and just keeps watching you as your fingers dance over the dull black katarn.

“I heard someone say that they are easy to take off,” you say with that lovely, barely lascivious smile as you wrap your hands around the straps of his chest plate and wait for him to loosen the clasps.

“So you remember that, huh?”

“How could I forget?”

Clink. Did he open it? Fi can’t remember, but he all of a sudden feels the air cooler against his sweaty undersuit. Clink. The left vembrace is off, then the right. Persistence takes him much more self-control than he’s actually able to muster, and as soon as he’s left in only his black bodysuit he’s in a rush to lock himself up in the bathroom. Fierfek. He’s going to need lots of cold water.

..........

Coruscant is an amazing place to live. The countless different species and ethnic groups and how they somehow all get along, more or less. The illumination at night and the music: tender timbres in the opera house and the loud beat of the glimmik music in the clubs. Even the blatant contrast between upper and lower levels involves some sort of fascination. The game of light and shadows and the everlasting, pulsating life. You love it.

And yet you hardly notice these things as you walk beside Fi, once again, to your favorite cantina. It's almost like that night when he walked you home, and yet somehow entirely different. Last time he had an assignment to escort you. To protect you. Even though you would have made it perfectly alone, not that you would complain about Jaller’s gentle intervention. Now he’s here, just because he wants to spend his little downtime with you, a truth that’s making your heart beat faster. Week in, week out you wondered if he would come back to see you. When you kissed him, he didn’t catch you in his arms to kiss you back desperately. He didn’t follow you into your apartment and he didn’t take you against the next available surface. You didn’t expect him to anyway. Fi never occurred to you as that type of man in the stories you heard about him - in the little time you shared with him.

But as days passed by you lost yourself in daydreams. You found asking yourself how he’d kiss you if… if.. he only dared. Wherever you were, whatever you did, the mental picture of him in his black armor looking down on you flared up in your mind. You worried about him, hoped that he would be safe and doing well. Time and again you kept catching yourself calling Jaller if there was any news about Omega squad’s whereabouts. You ended each call even before it started. If only he would come home even if he chose to never see you again. And you wondered if he was thinking about you the way you thought about him. Maker, you wished!

There’s no word in Basic to describe the way you felt as he finally turned up at your door about an hour ago. Even though he took the chance to hold you, he still joked to ease the trepidation, and you decided it would be best if he found out for himself how far he wants to go. Your self-restraint almost faltered the moment he asked you to join him in the shower. But you don’t want this tender bond to burn down like a sparkler in fleeting beauty and much too fast. Not as long as he’s not even sure what it is that he wants.

The commando matches his long strides to yours and tries his best to keep up the conversation however he seems a little distracted by the city. Or at least that’s what you think. The whole entertainment district is filled with chatter and music. His hand occasionally brushes against yours in the crush of people and it’s sending sparks down your spine with each touch. Midway between your home and the cantina you stop to enjoy the view from one of the pedestrian bridges into the abyss of the urban canyon.

“Come on, Fi! You have to admit this view is worth more than just one star in the travel guide for clones,” you chuckle as you side-eye him and see how he’s fascinated by the scene.

“Okay, I admit, mesh’la. But you should see how different the city looks if you watch it from the inside of a Laaty. Feels like you are diving headlong into a sea of lights. Right now it just seems like I survey a fish tank from the outside.”

Fi doesn’t avert his gaze from the colorful chasm, some kind of seriousness laying on his young and handsome face that doesn’t fit. It’s the same expression you saw on him in the CSF club. His words shock you nevertheless, the ones he says and those he keeps to himself. Words to let him seethe with hopelessness and ever so slowly will get him lost.

“Is that how you feel? As an outsider?” You ask with a lump in your throat.

He smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he eventually turns towards you. He wears his armor but without the helmet and the gloves, it somehow makes him look vulnerable despite his remarkable size and buff physique. “It’s not that many citizens take notice of us clones. And if they do… they treat us like assets. You’d be surprised if you see the disbelief on their faces when we take off our helmets and they realize we’re not droids. Being an outsider isn’t the worst.”

No you didn’t notice. On your walk here you’ve been captivated by his presence. The world around could go down in flames - if he’s with you, you wouldn’t care. Now you feel guilty.

“I… I’m so sorry for that,” you mumble an apology, not sure what to say otherwise.

“Don’t be. It’s not up to you to take responsibility for other people’s ignorance.”

“I still want to.” It makes him chuckle.

“You know, it’s not just their fault. On Kamino, when we never had contact with the real world outside and only datapads to gather information, our training sergeants sometimes told us about the life of ordinary people and how dreary and bleak their lives are. I felt truly sorry for them, for their day-to-day existence without purpose like me and my brothers had. Can you believe?”

He chuckles again and shakes his head. You think it makes him look adorable. “Then we were assigned to the anti-terror op on Coruscant and I was pretty excited to see what life is like. To go out, make some friends, eat candy and drink ale. Took me off guard to see that for one thing ordinary life isn’t boring at all, and for another that I would never be a part of it or have any of these things, no matter how hard I try. I should have known it was a flat out lie of Kal’buir to tell us relationships are overrated.” After a moment he adds: “Dar and Atin already proved him wrong.”

Again it is what he doesn’t say that makes you ache for him. ‘I wasn’t lucky enough to find a woman calling me hers.’ Again you wonder why he doesn’t see.

Slowly, you reach out your hand and after a moment of hesitation he takes it. Both of you gaze down at your hands, joined across the handrail, mesmerized at how your small hand seems to be dwarfed between his rough fingers. You brush your thumb gently over the little scars on his knuckles, he tentatively caresses your wrist in return.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Spill it out, mesh’la.”

“What are you doing here, Fi?”

Tilting his head, he freezes. And you hope he doesn’t think you are going to blame him for touching you. After that, suddenly, he frowns and you wonder what thought crosses his mind. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell with Fi. But then he glances up at you with his dark brown eyes, full of longing, almost too shy to look you straight in the face. Does he finally understand?

After a few floundering moments, he seemingly found the answer he was looking for… and starts to lift your hand up in his.

“I spend my time with a mesh’la dala… and act like a di’kut,” he whispers softly.

Your eyes flutter, struggling to remain open, as his lips graze your fingers light as a feather and he kisses your skin.

“Fi…”

His name.. it sounds like a plea. He's never heard it like that before. Never felt the soft sound of his name prickling on his skin like a summer’s breeze. Would you want…? Should he dare…? Fi wants to let go of your hand, to catch you in his arms and pull you close, to sweep you off your feet. It’s a silly romantic fantasy he doesn’t even know where he got the idea from. Maybe from a holovid or one of his vode mentioned. But howsoever the fantasy has been going around in circles in his head for weeks. Part of him figures that kissing you might be a terrible mistake. Cause then he would break down these invisible barriers that kept him from a life outside his existence as a Republic Commando. But they also kept him safe inside. He would make himself vulnerable… something Kal taught them to avoid at all costs. But Kal also said they are dead men. All of them were aware he only said it to disguise the fact how much it hurt him. Well, right now he feels more alive than he’s ever been.

Fi decides it is worth every risk…

Breaking the delicate contact, he lowers your hand and lets it slide out of his only to gingerly clasp your waist as you gaze at him with baited breath. Nervous, Fi leans forward and meets your lips with a sigh. It’s a sweet, tentative kiss, and he hopes he’s doing it right. But you slowly run your hands up his chest to wrap them around his neck and you melt into his body. He takes it as a good sign… and curses the armor as he closes his eyes in time with yours. Tipping your head back to give him more room, you shudder in his arms as he chases after you with a smile. It feels so incredibly good… blithe. Desperate to get you closer, he pulls you tighter against him, softly brushes his lips against yours. He wonders where this patience is coming from. Sniper’s habit.

And then you let him in, let him lazily dip his tongue inside your warm mouth and taste you. Not able to hold back now, Fi makes a noise low in his throat, the sound getting lost deep inside you… and Fi isn’t sure if he’s about to pass out. Among all the sensations you give him, he can feel his heart beating rapidly against his chest plate. He conquers your mouth, his fingers tunneling into your hair and holding on to you as if his life depends on it as he teases your tongue with his own. And with every gentle lick, with every exhale he breathes his love for you into your lungs and the city of lights disappears around the two of you.

At last Fi breaks the kiss. In the delicate moment he opens his eyes to look at you. Waiting… Hoping…
Almost his entire life, and long before he knew that he’d be kissing you… Fi dreamed that maybe one day he would lose himself in a woman. Longing turned into desire, growing stronger with every day, suffocating him… until he was about to lose his mind.

“Fi. I… thank you”, you mouth silently so that he’s barely able to hear your words above the surrounding sounds of traffic and crowd. But he does and he can feel it. Sense what you don’t say. And suddenly the words fall from his lips, the simple truth that he’s impossible to hide from the galaxy any longer.

“I love you,” he says so softly, finally confessing his feelings and tracing his thumb across your cheek.

“I love you too.”

Four words. Four words to turn his world upside down and finally give his life a meaning.