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Kallus stripped down to his undershirt and shorts, and stretched out next to Garazeb in their shared bunk. He gave silent thanks that Ezra was still off doing whatever it was he was doing on Mandalore and not heckling them from the top bunk as was his habit the few times Kallus had spent nights on the Ghost. They laid on their sides facing each other, the bunk barely wide enough to accommodate their large bodies.
“Vanto’s feelings for Thrawn are going to be a problem,” Kallus said. He just wanted to lose himself in Garazeb’s large yellow eyes for a few hours, but their conversation with Vanto weighed too heavily on his mind.
“A problem for the Alliance or a problem for you?” Garazeb asked gently, running a finger along the scars on Kallus’s arm that were a permanent reminder of Thrawn’s handiwork.
Kallus huffed in reply. Garazeb was, as usual, able to read him better than anyone else, and he hated it as much as he loved it. “Both, possibly. What would possess someone to care for a person like Thrawn? He’s responsible for so much death.”
Garazeb raised an eyebrow at him. Awful, unspoken things stretched out in the silence between them, and Kallus felt his heart sink. He flopped onto his back, knocking shoulders with Garazeb because the bunk wasn’t nearly big enough for the two of them. “I deserved that,” he sighed.
Garazeb propped himself up on one elbow and glowered down at Kallus. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” Kallus focused his gaze intently on the durasteel frame above them. Sometimes being petulant was easier than acknowledging the truth, which in this case was that he had participated in an unforgivable atrocity committed against the person who currently chose to share his bed.
“Kal…” Garazeb said in that soft voice that made Kallus’s stomach flutter. He reached out to push a strand of hair from Kallus’s face. He was always fascinated by Kallus’s hair.
Kallus pushed Garazeb’s hand away and sat up, turning his back to the lasat and nearly smacking his head on the durasteel in the process. “Stop it.”
Garazeb snorted and rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “We’ve had a good few weeks, you know. Just enjoyin’ each other’s company. Not over-thinkin’ things.”
Kallus looked over his shoulder at Garazeb. “That is an untenable longterm strategy for a whole host of reasons, and you know it.”
Garazeb raised that eyebrow again. “You lookin’ for something longterm here?”
“I don’t have any right to ask that of you,” Kallus answered truthfully, hating how broken his voice sounded. He focused intently on the cabin floor.
There was a long stretch of silence in which Kallus didn’t dare look back at Garazeb. He thought about just leaving and bunking in the galley — the bench was, in his experience, comfortable enough — but his legs wouldn’t move.
“No, you don’t,” Garazeb finally spoke, “hey, come here, look at me.” He gently tugged at Kallus’s arm, the slight catch of his claws sending a shiver up Kallus’s body.
Kallus allowed himself to be coaxed back onto the bed, once again on his side facing Garazeb. He tentatively ran a hand through the soft fur on Garazeb’s bare chest.
“I know this doesn’t make sense,” Garazeb whispered into the small space between them. “Sometimes I really don’t want to feel this way about you, but I do. Let’s just leave it at that for now, yeah?”
Kallus didn’t trust himself to speak on it so he just nodded. The honesty of Garazeb’s words stung and comforted all at once.
Garazeb placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then to the edge of his jaw, then his neck. Kallus’s entire world shrank down to that sensitive spot just behind his ear as Garazeb gently flicked his rough tongue over it.
Kallus rolled onto his back, pulling Garazeb on top the way he preferred. He didn’t waste any time digging his fingers into Garazeb’s hips and grinding up into them. If he couldn’t have all of Garazeb, he could at least have this, which was enjoyable enough.
***
It was easy enough for Zeb to distract Kallus — and himself — with a few well-placed kisses. Humans had a weak spot right behind their ear that made them sigh and melt into him.
There were conversations they still needed to have and this was the closest they’d ever gotten, but Zeb wasn’t in the mood for Kallus’s useless self-loathing. Not when they finally had privacy — or at least what passed for privacy on the Ghost — and an extended period of down time. He could get his hands on Kallus the way he wanted to.
Kallus was big for a human, tall and broad shouldered with powerful muscles. Zeb didn’t need to hold back the way he had with previous human lovers. It made for a fun time if he could push down the memories of their history, of what Kallus had done.
Zeb let Kallus position them the way he liked with Zeb laying on top of him. He wanted to be overwhelmed and Zeb was more than happy to give him that. He buried his face in Kallus’s shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin there and relishing each whimper he drew from the human. They pushed and pulled each other’s clothes off, nothing graceful about it, until they were naked.\
Zeb pushed up on one elbow so he could rake his barely extended claws through Kallus’ chest fur. Another thing he enjoyed about this human in particular. Humans were generally smooth-skinned but Kallus was blessed with ample body fur, and it felt so good to let his claws catch in it the way he would with another lasat. Kal arched up into the touch, rolling his hips at the same time, grinding up into Zeb’s now-unsheathed cock.
“Garazeb, please,” he whined.
Zeb grabbed Kallus’ wrists and pinned them above his head as he gave Kallus the punishing grind he knew he wanted. He buried his face in Kal’s neck to muffle his own cry at the intense sensation.
***
Eli stared pointedly at the ceiling, trying with every fiber of his being to ignore the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping against flesh.punctuated by occasional shouts in a language he didn’t recognize.
Why did they put him next to Kallus and Orrelios’ bunk?
He had drifted into restless sleep and once again dreamed about Thrawn. His mind had been hellbent on playing a highlight reel of their years together starting with that first meeting on the Strikefast when Thrawn said “You hold my words in your hands” and Eli had known deep in his gut that he was so screwed. No one had ever treated him like he was important, but there was this tall, proud chiss — straight out of his home world’s legends — admitting plainly that he needed Eli.
The dream had skipped forward to their first kiss, playing it out in slow motion: a tentative brush of hands as Eli leaned in to point out something on a datapad, the barely audible hitch in Thrawn’s breath, gazes held too long until they leaned in, those intense red eyes focused on his lips. It was like something out of a trashy holonovel.
Then the racket from next door woke him up, so here he was willing his ears to shut off and failing miserably.
He finally gave up and climbed out of bed, throwing on his Defense Fleet tunic but not bothering to button it up as he exited his cabin. No one said he was confined to quarters and there had to be somewhere on this small ship where he couldn’t hear Orrelios and Kallus going at it like a couple of mynocks in heat.
He’d been too exhausted and overwhelmed to properly get his bearings earlier, which meant he of course took a wrong turn right into the cockpit.
The first thing he noticed was General Syndulla curled up in the pilot’s chair asleep, a holo-pad communicator clutched in one hand. That angry little astromech of hers was blessedly powered down in its recharge station.
The next thing he noticed, unfortunately too late, was the very much awake man in the co-pilot’s seat glowering at him. He was bald and stocky with a bushy white beard and sharp eyes that looked disturbingly familiar for reasons Eli couldn’t place. He wore pieces of Clone Wars-era Republic armor.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
Eli found himself stammering like a first year cadet. “Sorry, I uh, needed to stretch my legs and I must’ve, uh, got lost.”
The man shook his head. “You’re the one who’s supposed to help us take down Thrawn and you can’t even find your way around a tiny ship? Vanto, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Eli said, trying not to rankle visibly at having his competency questioned. “And you are?”
“Name’s Rex. I’m Hera’s acting second in command.”
An awkward silence fell between them, filled with Hera’s soft snores. Eli kept his gaze focused on the stars, their familiar configuration comforting. The Ghost would pass close by Lysatra on its current trajectory.
It had been over ten years since he last saw his parents, only slightly less time since he last spoke with them over the holonet. That conversation had not gone well, his parents disapproving of his new career track, as if any of it had been his choice in the beginning. He wished he could see his parents now and tell them everything. Hey mom, dad, I fell in love with my alien commanding officer and committed treason for him. That would have definitely gone well.
“Is it true you spent time with Thrawn’s people?” Rex said, finally breaking the silence and causing Eli to startle.
“Yeah…they’re called the Chiss.”
“Are they all like him?”
Eli snorted despite himself. “No, thank the gods.”
Rex laughed heartily, disturbing General Syndulla out of her sleep. She blinked a couple of times, sat up straight in her seat, then leveled a glare at Eli that made him want to crawl right into the bulkhead. “What are you doing up here?” she demanded.
Eli shifted uncomfortably. Before he could speak up, Rex started talking. “Kid’s just stretching his legs, boss. Can’t expect him to sleep sharing a bulkhead with Zeb and Kallus.”
“I don’t know when my ship turned into a shelter for Imperial strays,” the General said, rolling her eyes. She leveled her gaze at Eli. “Do you know how to fly a ship?”
“Wouldn’t even know what buttons to push, ma’am” he said truthfully but still garnished it shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile to hopefully put her at ease.
“Then I guess you can stay up here,” she said while raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.
Another, even more awkward silence descended on the cockpit. Eli thought about returning to his temporary quarters before General Syndulla asked the question that was obviously on her mind.
“Were the rumors about you and Thrawn…” she started. Too late.
“Yeah,” Eli said, staring resolutely at the stars while he wondered how many times he would have to answer that question, “all the rumors were true.”
Rex let out an impressed whistle, but had the good grace to look apologetic when General Syndulla glared at him. The look she gave Eli, though, was sad; it reminded him of the way his mother would look at him when he’d gotten himself into trouble and she couldn’t help him.
“Thrawn wasn’t always like…well, like how he’s been lately. He was a kind, fair commanding officer and we…never mind.”
“Your kind, fair commanding officer killed a lot of good people,” the General said in a matter of fact tone that made Eli wish she’d just yelled at him.
Rex reached up and clapped him on the shoulder. “Kid, if you’d seen what he did to us on Atollon you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him."
“I know!” Eli said, his voice cracking, too loud, like he couldn’t control the volume anymore. He took a deep, calming breath and straightened his posture. “I’m sorry, General, Captain. I really want to help. This is just…harder than I expected it to be.”
“Just wait until we hand you over to General Draven, kid,” Rex said. Eli didn’t know who that was but a chill ran down his spine nonetheless.
