Chapter Text
Then
A sudden lurch from the Ghost caused Ezra to squeeze the jogan fruit he was holding a little too hard, splattering it all over his face.
Jacen was still learning.
“Everyone all right?” Hera called from the cockpit, as Luke handed Ezra a towel, chuckling to himself. The other man sighed and wiped his face and hands of the purple juice.
“We’re fine, just a breakfast casualty,” Ezra called back, dropping the squashed fruit into his bowl of oatmeal anyways and grabbing a spoon.
Luke followed him into the cockpit, where Hera was gently explaining to Jacen where the controls were, what every button did, and how to maneuver the ship. She glanced up at the sound of their footsteps, and Ezra plopped down into the seat behind Jacen’s. Luke nodded at Hera and sat in the seat behind hers.
“Sorry about your breakfast,” Jacen turned his little green head to look at Ezra out of the corner of his eye. Hera reached across the aisle and gently guided his cheek so he was looking out the viewport.
“Eyes on the sky,” she reminded him.
“My breakfast is fine, I just squeezed jogan juice all over myself,” Ezra said.
“Don’t feel bad, Jacen, it was funny,” Luke chimed in. Ezra glared at him without any heat, pouting a little as he scooped oatmeal into his mouth.
“Take us into Home One,” said Hera. Jacen jerked the controls sharply to the right, which only caused Ezra to dump half his oatmeal into Luke’s lap. The slightly warm and mushy oats began to seep through his trousers and drip thickly onto the floor. For a moment they both sat there, staring at the wet glob on Luke’s thigh, forgetting how to have a proper reaction, before Ezra burst out laughing.
He supposed he did deserve that one.
“Sorry!” Jacen said, but Ezra was already out of his seat to grab Luke a towel, still giggling as he turned around the corner.
After they landed and cleaned up all breakfast mishaps, Jacen was dropped off at Home One so the rest of them could start prepping for combat. Zeb joined up with the Ghost crew again, ruffling Ezra’s hair as he walked onto the ship.
After months of deliberating, the New Republic had finally agreed on the resources to face the Imperial Remnants directly. They were going on the offense. For weeks now, in addition to the missions he’d gone on with Hera, Chopper, and Ezra, Luke had also been training with Red Squadron, getting ready for this day and probably countless others. He changed into his flight suit and met up with his droid, finishing up his pre-flight checks.
Ezra was nervous. It was coming off of him in droves. They had a plan, a fairly solid one, and when that inevitably fell apart they were all expert improvisers. But still, this was the first real battle they were going into since Ezra got back. He wasn’t used to this kind of combat anymore. Space itself was practically still a foreign concept to him.
Right now he was standing in the middle of the hangar, eyes tracking the mobilizing pilots as they ran to their respective fighters, arms folded across his chest and foot tapping somewhat impatiently. Luke fixed his flight suit, tucking his helmet under his arm as he approached him.
“Hey,” he said, clasping his shoulder. Ezra turned with it, shoulder muscle tensed and eyes wide and alert before relaxing as he realized it was only Luke. He looked him up and down, a smile tugging at his lips.
“You look like a real pilot,” he said. Luke dropped his hand to his side, shrugging.
“I am a real pilot.”
“Right, right, I think I remember someone mentioning that. Death Star and whatnot,” he teased, and the tension in his shoulders started to ease. “Lucky shot.”
“That’s me. Lucky.”
Ezra just nodded, his smile fading slightly. He gave Luke’s arm an awkward, gentle punch, more of a brush of his knuckles against Luke’s sleeve. “Gonna do great,” he said, and dropped his hand, swinging it back and forth at his side.
It was all getting more and more real. Battle was imminent. Had the war really ended? Luke wasn’t sure anymore.
He brushed up against Ezra’s mind, an invitation. Instantly Ezra let all his walls come down, finding him in the Force. They were linked, even if they wouldn’t be in the same ship today. Judging by Ezra’s sigh, it was just as much of a relief for him as it was for Luke. No matter what, they could find each other.
Luke was about to offer his own encouragement when Ezra’s arms were suddenly around him. All the breath left his lungs and it was not from the impact. His arms were wrapped around his neck, Ezra’s now neatly shaved beard brushing against it as he hooked his chin over Luke’s shoulder. In surprise at the sudden contact, he dropped his helmet, but Ezra didn’t let go. Luke didn’t want him to.
Tentatively, Luke snaked his arms around Ezra’s back, pulling him just a tiny bit closer. He smelled like the cockpit of the Ghost and the oatmeal he had for breakfast that morning, the one he’d spilled all over Luke. He was sure Ezra could hear the thumping of his heart inside his chest. His mind, however, could not even form coherent thoughts beyond Ezra is hugging me.
“Don’t die,” Ezra said, voice behind him. He pulled away, awkwardly letting his arms fall off of Luke’s shoulders as he took a step backwards. He gave him a thumbs up, snapping a few times just for something to do with his hands and wouldn’t meet Luke’s eyes. Luke was still trying to remember how to speak.
He cleared his throat, bending down to pick up the helmet he’d dropped. “I’ll try my best,” he said, and was surprised at how even his voice was. He reached out to the Force, trying to center himself and it only marginally helped. “You too. Don’t die.”
Ezra let out a little huff, and they were saved any further awkwardness by the signal that they were about to launch coming through the loudspeakers. Ezra jerked his thumb towards the Ghost and Luke nodded his head towards his X-Wing.
In the Force their bond still felt as thick as ever, which made this transition a little easier. Luke slid his helmet on and Ezra gave him a half-hearted salute as he turned and started jogging back to Hera.
R2-D2 was telling him to hurry up as Luke situated himself in the cockpit. “Relax, Artoo, I already did all the pre-flight checks, we’re good.”
He sealed himself in the cockpit, and R2-D2’s code came through his screen. [Hope your flying skills aren’t as rusty as your flirting.]
“I wasn’t—Artoo, this better not be the squadron channel.”
“Oh, it is,” a voice came through his comms. Red 4. Vyna Grene. Human from Hosnian Prime. Newer recruit, but Wedge had trained her well. “Was that Ezra Bridger I saw you making out with out there?”
Luke’s hands were clammy, Force, why was his face still warm? “Everyone focus. Red Leader?” Luke prompted. Wedge had been silent this whole time, but he could practically hear the smile on the other pilot’s face.
Vyna made kissing noises in the comm channel and got a few laughs from the other members of the Squadron. Wedge finally called out the command to form up and go. “And keep the teasing about Skywalker’s massive crush on Commander Bridger to a minimum,” he added. Luke rolled his eyes.
“I don’t—“
“Ready jump in three, two—“
The hyperspace jump was short, only a few minutes, and they came out in Dathomir space. The Chimaera loomed over the planet, creating a blockade around it that the New Republic finally had the manpower to break.
Hera gave Thrawn one chance to surrender, he unsurprisingly did not, and the battle began.
Luke hadn’t flown in a real battle like this since the rebellion, and he sank into the Force immediately. It grounded him, let him connect with the rest of his squadron, with the other squadrons, with Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Ezra in the Ghost, and even with the pilots in the TIE fighters, giving him a solid layout of the battlefield and an edge on when attacks were coming.
Most comforting was his connection with Ezra, in the aft gunner compartment on the Ghost. There was a comms channel open for communication between all New Republic personnel, but it was mostly for Hera to give orders, not for Luke and Ezra to speak with each other. So they had the Force, and they found each other with ease.
Red Squadron made a few passes at the Chimaera’s larger guns, only managing a couple hits, none quite critical. Red 6 and 11 went down, taken out by two TIEs. Their cries echoed in Luke’s mind as they became one with the Force. It was only the start of what would soon be a very deadly encounter.
It soon became clear that as much as they were ready for an offensive, Thrawn was equally as ready with his defense. His TIEs were better equipped than the Empire’s, his Defender project back in full swing, though they were fewer than the regular TIEs.
But the Defenders weren’t the only problem. There was something else at play here, something more than just fancy fighters and military genius. Ezra had said there was an army of undead stormtroopers. The nightsisters and their necromancy were turning out to be a bigger problem than they were expecting. They were expecting them on the ground, they didn’t expect them in space.
The stormtrooper army joined the battle like vulture droids, with only jetpacks to maneuver instead of fighters. They didn’t have giant boxes of metal to protect them but they were smaller and more difficult to hit, latching themselves to New Republic fighters and taking them out that way.
Luke watched helplessly as one of them took out Gold 6’s viewport, launching the pilot into the vacuum of space. His name was Adan Balan.
One stormtrooper landed on the wing of Luke’s X-Wing, knocking the balance to his right with the added weight. Luke tried to spin him off counterclockwise, but he held on, reaching for the seals on the X-Wing’s transparisteel canopy to eject him. R2’s weaponry system had barely any effect—this person was no longer alive, like a hole in the Force. It was unnerving. Not quite the dark side, but definitely not the light.
“We got incoming!” Wedge shouted, as a panicked Red 7 was ejected, unable to shake the trooper that had landed on his fighter.
Hera had control of the situation, at least as much as she could, ordering squadrons to outfly the jetpacks and treat them like they would vulture droids. The Ghost and her leadership were the main reason they were still making progress through the line of fighters and heavy fire from the Chimaera.
In the Force Luke felt Ezra scream a warning, and another trooper landed on Luke’s nose cone.
“Shit,” he muttered.
[Language,] retorted his droid, and Luke rolled his eyes.
He thrusted forwards, but they were stickier than they looked. Reaching out to the Force he pushed with everything he had, throwing them manually and into the range of his laser cannons. It was inefficient, but it worked.
Unfortunately, Luke and Ezra were the only ones who could pull that particular feat off at the moment.
In his comms were the screams of his comrades, a cacophony of I’m hit as they were taken out one by one. Luke fired at what he could and used the Force on what he couldn’t, but they were about to be overwhelmed.
The Chimaera had taken hits from the New Republic, and the bombers were able to break through the blockade to get to it, but with the depleted forces it looked like no one would quite win this battle.
The Ghost flew past Luke, an impossible, signature Syndulla maneuver through waves of fighters and jet packed undead troopers, and Luke saw a flash of violet light streak through the stars. Ezra stood on top of the ship with a helmet and his lightsaber, manually kicking off any troopers that tried to attack the Ghost, which had taken some hits as well. He was using the lack of gravity to his advantage, turning the magnetization of his boots on and off as needed. His concentration was mostly focused on that.
“Red 2, cover the Ghost,” Wedge ordered.
“Copy, Red Leader,” Luke said without hesitating to fall in behind it, covering Ezra. They were situated in the middle of the battle, enough to see as much as possible. He stretched out to the Force, tangling himself into Ezra’s concentration and extending it to the rest of the battle. Together they could push back against the necromancy, encourage the dead to stay that way, a counterbalance to the stress on their poor souls.
Luke felt the fire of the Force grow and expand, flaring out throughout the whole battle. With Ezra the connection was so easy, so natural, it didn’t take any extra energy to use his power just as Ezra was using Luke’s. He had never felt anything like it before, it was like Ezra was seeing through Luke’s eyes, and Luke through Ezra’s.
“Chimaera is retreating,” came General Syndulla’s voice over all comms. It did appear they were getting ready to make the jump, calling fighters back to base. “All squadrons, get ready to make the jump Home.”
Luke shot a warning to Ezra as a stormtrooper came up behind him, and Ezra shot a warning back as a TIE came too close to Luke’s three. They pushed both threats back, and Ezra nodded at Luke as Hera opened the cargo hold door to let him back in.
The battlefield was scattered, debris everywhere, and fighters jumping to hyperspace left and right. Ezra disappeared into the Ghost, and Luke and R2 calculated the trip back to.
They’d learned some more about Thrawn’s capabilities, and he’d learned about theirs. They’d sort of ended in a dead tie, except Thrawn’s dead could come back to life.
Unlike their dead. Luke knew Red Squadron was a fraction of what they were when they left. He knew they knew what they were getting into, but it didn’t make death any more acceptable in Luke’s eyes. Vyna Grene, who made fun of him just hours ago, was lost today, along with so many others. Luke let their memories rest among the stars.
Ezra, Hera, Zeb, and Chopper exited the Ghost, looking worse off than they did before the battle, but not as bad as they could’ve looked. Ezra was still in an envirosuit without the helmet, and his eyes found Luke’s immediately, even though Luke hadn’t even opened his cockpit. R2 did it for him.
[Your boyfriend’s coming.]
“He’s not my—I’m gonna make you clean the carbon scoring,” he chastised his droid, pulling his helmet off and climbing down the ladder.
As soon as his feet hit the ground he realized he was exhausted. During the battle his adrenaline took over, but using the Force that much for such an extended period of time took its toll. As Ezra approached, his feet dragging, Luke could tell he was feeling the same thing.
He stopped a meter away from him, heaving a large sigh, still clanking around in those heavy mag-boots.
“We didn’t die,” Luke said. Ezra rubbed a hand over his face with a sharp laugh.
“No, we didn’t,” he said. “That was some fancy flying.”
“Told you. I’m a pilot,” he said. He glanced down at Ezra’s boots. “That was some fancy footwork.”
In response Ezra kicked his toe up into the air, heel clacking heavily against the ground. “I need to take these off.”
Luke didn’t know when the gap had closed between them, but they were next to each other now, close enough that Luke could see the stars swirling in Ezra’s bright blue eyes. Whatever had happened out there, their entanglement in the Force had made it near impossible to want to leave his side, it was like he was caught in Ezra’s gravitational pull. The battle heightened senses had faded, the intensity of the bond had subsided, but Luke no longer felt like he needed to be worried about what Ezra thought of him. From now on, they would just… know.
It was a bit overwhelming, their Force connection, and only with the adrenaline of a space battle had it felt natural and easy. Right now after that had worn off, it felt massive and exhausting. Ezra had exerted himself more than Luke, so he was handling it as best as could be expected. He started blinking quickly, a clear attempt to not succumb to it, but Luke could see him fading. “Whoa, time for bed,” he said, right before Ezra’s knees gave out.
He grabbed Ezra’s wrist before he collapsed, throwing his arm over his shoulder and hooking his own arm around Ezra’s waist to hold him upright, hip to hip. Ezra’s head rolled and fell on Luke’s shoulder.
“Whoa,” Ezra mumbled. “Tired all of the sudden.”
“I know,” Luke said. “Come on.”
He dragged Ezra back to their quarters of Home One while droids did maintenance on the Ghost. Hera was already in the debriefing room and Zeb was waiting by the hallway door to the living quarters. “Need help? I can take him,” he said. Ezra had his full weight against Luke now, head on his shoulder, and Luke’s stomach was doing flips every time his curls brushed against his jaw. Ezra just seemed to lean into Luke even more.
“I’m fine,” he said, which didn’t actually come out sounding like words, but Luke interpreted from the little dismissive wave his hand did at his side.
“Sure you are,” said Zeb. “You look tired too, kid,” he told Luke, offering support by lifting Luke’s elbow. Luke was tired. But Ezra was fading faster. Luke could at least make it the last few steps to a bed.
“I’m tired,” Luke confirmed.
“Get some rest,” Zeb said, helping Luke to the door and opening it for him. Luke dumped Ezra onto the bed and Zeb readjusted him so his legs weren’t hanging off the side, taking those thick mag-boots off and tossing them into the corner of the room. Luke didn’t have the energy to do much other than sit against the bed on the floor, his head rolling back to rest on the mattress.
The exhaustion started to overtake him, the Force commanding he rest since he’d been so immersed in it all day. His vision was starting to blur and he felt a bit light-headed. “Kid?” he heard Zeb ask, but his eyes were already closing, sleep coming up to swallow him whole.
—
Now
Ezra couldn’t sleep. He’d gotten used to the storms here, they happened more often than not, but tonight sleep eluded him. Part of it—well, most of it—was that Luke wasn’t beside him.
It wasn’t for any sinister reason, there hadn’t been a big spat between them that day, no more than their usual ribbing. Ezra just didn’t feel like sleeping on Luke’s terrible, nonexistent mattress that night.
Over the years they’d probably slept in the same bed about as many times as they hadn’t. It was mostly logistical, they weren’t always in the same place.
Tonight his bed felt extra cold, with the rain pouring outside and without a body beside him, and he was regretting his hard stance against Luke’s bed. He sat up, sighing, and stepped out of his own enclosure, trudging through the rain to Luke’s and opening the door.
Luke was facing the door and squinted his eyes open as the light from the moon hit him and Ezra dripped inside. He’d gotten soaked from the short walk over here.
“‘Zra?” Luke muttered, dropping syllables in his grogginess.
“Can’t sleep,” Ezra said. Luke was more awake now, and he was unhappy about this new development. He blinked slowly, lips turning downwards into a frown.
“You’re all wet,” he said.
“It’s raining,” Ezra agreed, squelching his way over to the folded pile of clothes Luke kept in the corner of the room. He started stripping out of his wet clothes and into Luke’s dry ones. Luke watched him for a moment, then decided to turn back over, facing the wall with his back to Ezra.
But he left enough space for him anyways.
Ezra squeezed out the extra moisture from his hair with a random piece of Luke’s robes, and climbed in beside him. Even though they were sleeping on barely any cushioning, it was still better than sleeping alone. Ezra scooted closer to Luke, sliding his arm underneath his and reaching for Luke’s hand. He pressed his forehead to the back of Luke’s shoulder, pulling him closer into his arms. Luke relaxed into his embrace with a long sigh.
He was already getting more tired by the second, just breathing in Luke’s scent, comfortable that they’d wake up tomorrow morning still tangled in each other’s embrace. Luke lengthened his legs, hooking one over Ezra’s calf and squeezing his hand.
As much as Luke helped quiet Ezra’s mind, right now the thoughts had only slowed. He wanted to talk to Luke. About nothing. He wanted to stop making every conversation about something important like the future of the galaxy.
“Remember when we met?” Ezra asked. Luke sighed, and Ezra thought he’d be less receptive to conversation, but surprisingly, he answered.
“Yes.”
“What did you think of me? Your first impression?”
The first time they met was only weeks after Ezra had gotten back. Weeks after he’d reunited with most of his crew, met Hera and Kanan’s child. He met Luke immediately after Hera tried to take him back to Lothal and he’d refused, citing the fact that Sabine wasn’t with them. It hadn’t felt right to go back without her.
“You were energetic in a way that suggested anxiety,” Luke said.
That… was also fair. Ezra snorted into Luke’s shoulder. He’d been a wreck those first couple of weeks, masquerading around like he knew what he was doing when everyone, including Luke, who he just met, could tell he wasn’t okay in the slightest.
“You gave me tea,” he remembered.
“You needed it.”
Ezra smiled. He certainly had needed it. “Well, my first impression of you was that you weren’t intimidating.”
“Were you expecting me to be intimidating?”
Ezra shrugged. “I don’t know what I was expecting. There were a lot of stories about you. Hera said you reminded her of Kanan. Other people said you single-handedly defeated Vader and Palpatine. Lots of conflicting information. But you were just… some guy.”
“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Luke said.
His words hung in the air, and Ezra sighed. He pressed his forehead to Luke’s shoulder. “Some guy who I happen to like very much,” he assured. Luke’s chest rose and fell beneath their entwined hands.
“I like you too. For some reason,” said Luke, after a pause, and Ezra just grinned.
In the morning, Ezra woke up with Luke tucked neatly under his chin, having shifted to face him in the night. He pressed his lips to Luke’s hair as he stirred, and Luke leaned into him. This was not the first time they’d woken up like this, nor would it be the last, and still Ezra would never get tired of watching life return to Luke’s eyes as he opened them, soft and gentle in the warm morning light.
Very lightly he traced his finger along Luke’s faded white lightning scars, the one that touched his jaw and spread out down his neck. They were barely visible anymore, but Ezra knew they were there, permanent reminders of Palpatine’s crimes displayed on his skin.
He remembered the first time he’d ever seen these scars and it fully hit him that Luke was nowhere near as put together as he pretended to be. Not because he had scars, but because he was hiding them, because he refused to talk about the things that happened to him. For once in Ezra’s life, someone else was even more stingy with personal information than he was.
Ezra’s first impression was that Luke was just some guy. His second impression, however, was that Luke had his life together, and that was intimidating. Luke had seen Ezra at his worst, and he’d stayed. It was almost a relief when the smoke and mirrors cleared and Ezra remembered he really was just some guy, coping the best he could. It was nice not to be the only disaster of the two of them.
It was abundantly clear now, on their exile planet, that at any given time Luke Skywalker was at least twenty percent less put together than he appeared. Depending on the time, the number could go up, but never down. Ezra was one of the very few who could see through it all. Who Luke let see through it all.
“Morning,” Luke said groggily. He stretched, rolling deliberately on top of Ezra so his head was on Ezra’s chest.
“Good morning, sunshine,” said Ezra, resting his hand just underneath Luke’s jaw, tilting it up with his finger so Luke was looking at him. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine. You?”
Ezra actually slept great. He always did sleep better with Luke. “Terrible, this bed is killing my back.”
An amused smile flashed across Luke’s face as he slid out from beneath Ezra’s soft grasp to sit up. “Always something with you,” he chided gently, climbing over him to grab his cloak.
He was about to get started on the typical morning activities, and Ezra wanted nothing more than to break the routine. “What if we did something different today?”
Luke flipped his hair out from behind his cloak, letting it fall just above his shoulders, on the hood. He raised an eyebrow. “Like?”
Ezra grinned.
He had several ideas. The first one was obvious, and required Luke coming back to bed.
His other ideas were less productive and more ridiculous, and included the bottle of Corellian brandy Hera had so graciously let him steal from her homestead the last time he was there.
“It’s not even—it’s too early for that,” Luke protested as Ezra dug it out of his bag, flaunting it at him. Luke had never been one for excessive drinking, but if Ezra had to drink a glass of milk today he might explode. He was already pouring the alcohol.
“You have more important things to do today?” Ezra asked, holding it out to him. Luke stared at it for a minute, then shook his head and took a sip.
A few more glasses later, alcohol burning in their systems, Ezra led Luke to the nest of porgs he had been observing for the past several months. He loved the little bird-like creatures. They were docile and sweet and made obnoxious squawking sounds that made him laugh. They were also fairly easy to connect with in the Force.
He couldn’t tell if that was just the strength of the Force here on Ahch-to or if the porgs were just not the brightest little guys in the galaxy, but it didn’t matter. He reached out and guided them to sit on Luke’s shoulders and head, like he was their new nest.
Ezra could not take Luke’s pouting seriously when he was covered in porgs. And as the brandy cycled through them, neither could Luke. They ended up in a porg pile on top of a mountain, giggly and drunk at half past noon.
The world was just a little fuzzier, a little warmer, Luke’s hand in his a little softer around the edges. Ezra smiled. Luke was smiling.
And Ezra had very important questions to ask him.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Luke snorted. “What?”
“Exactly what I said,” Ezra responded. “You heard—hic—me.”
“What kind of worm?”
“Why does that matter?”
Luke threw his arm up in the air, an amused look on his face. “What if you’re a big, scary worm that starts eating people?”
Ezra forced the dopey smile off of his face to look at Luke with his most stern expression. His attempt at looking intimidating, despite the fact that his vision wouldn’t focus. “Then you will have to kill me. But that was not the question.”
Luke’s eyes glinted in the sunlight, and he flopped his arm over so it landed on Ezra’s cheek. He was smiling, but he turned his tone serious. “Yes, I would still love you if you were a worm, and even if I had to kill you because of it.”
It was the stupidest question, but somehow it still warmed Ezra’s heart to hear the answer. Luke was smiling, looking relaxed, having a day to forget about everything, and Ezra was just glad to spend it with him.
In all the time they’d been together, this was the longest continuous stretch they hadn’t left each other’s sides. It was nice to remember that once in awhile. Nice to know they were actually incapable of getting sick of each other at this point.
Not for lack of trying.
“I would step on you if you were a worm,” Ezra deadpanned, which had the desired effect on Luke—he burst out laughing.
“You don’t even step on regular worms,” said Luke. “You already named a porg after me and it’s your favorite one.”
Ezra shook his head. “No, porg Hera is my favorite one.”
Luke rolled his eyes, waving his hand in the air. “Whatever you say.”
Porg Luke landed beside Ezra and squawked.
As the buzz of the alcohol wore off, Luke pulled himself to his feet, holding out his hand for Ezra to take. He groaned, but took it, and Luke helped him up. As much as Ezra wanted to lay in the grass and pass out with a blanket of critters around him, the clouds were coming in for the evening rain. He draped himself over Luke’s shoulder, leaning on him as they traversed down to their huts.
Drinking while the sun was up was the best way to pass out before it went back down, and Ezra ended up wrapped around Luke again, this time too tired for conversation.
Before he fell back into peaceful slumber, Luke called his name. “Ezra?”
“Mm?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Ezra was already half-asleep, but the words would worm their way into his dreams, pleasant and true. He smiled as he hummed an acknowledgement, unable to form any more words. He drifted off, Luke warm in his arms.
And he never complained about Luke’s makeshift excuse for a bed again.
—
Then
Luke woke up in an actual bed. He was still in his flight suit, and his brain was mushy, but someone had put a blanket over him and hadn’t let him sleep on the floor next to the bed he stuck Ezra in. Most likely Zeb, who was the only other person with him at that time. He cringed at the thought of needing to be carried to bed, but didn’t dwell too much on it.
His skin felt tight, his suit smelling like stale cockpit and carbon scoring, and his prosthetic hand was starting to bother him, probably needing a tune-up soon. He flexed it, pulling himself out of bed to find a shower, rinsing yesterday’s battle off of his body. He stood under the lukewarm water for only what was necessary, despite knowing Home One had enough water for everyone to take as long of showers as they wanted. He didn’t need to waste any. Some habits from Tatooine never really left him.
The door to the shared refresher hissed open as Luke was stepping out of the shower stall, a towel wrapped around his waist. Ezra stopped with his hand still on the door button, his bleary eyes widening as he took in the sight of Luke, practically naked in front of him.
Despite practically living together on the Ghost for several months now, the refresher on the ship was just big enough to change inside it, and they had separate rooms, so this was absolutely the least amount of clothing Ezra had ever seen him wear.
Luke wasn’t shy by any sense of the word, he just preferred to wear more clothes than less. Very few people knew about the lightning scars that wove staticky threads down his arms and torso from Palpatine’s torture. Zero people had seen all of them—Leia and Han had only seen them on his arms, and the less noticeable ones that peeked out above his collarbone, towards his jaw.
Ezra swallowed, eyes still wide. Okay, now one person had seen all of them.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of them, he did use a shared refresher after all, any number of New Republic personnel could’ve walked in and seen him. He wasn’t really hiding them, it just mostly was never an issue.
No. It still wasn't an issue. It just was what it was. Ezra had given him a once over instinctively, and judging by the way he was now very pointedly staring at Luke’s face and not any other part of him, he was hoping Luke hadn’t noticed it.
“Morning,” Luke said, trying for nonchalance, his throat suddenly very dry. This didn’t have to be a thing if neither of them made it a thing. Ezra cleared his throat, taking his lead and nodding. He was also still wearing part of the envirosuit, the arms pulled off and hanging at his sides, revealing the tightly fitted black tank top underneath.
“Morning,” he responded. “Did you just wake up too?”
Luke nodded. “Still in my flight suit. I think I passed out on your floor and Zeb carried me to bed.” A smile pulled at Ezra’s lips as he ran his fingers through unruly curls.
“Forgot how much energy that takes, using the Force like that. I haven’t done anything like it since the rebellion.”
Racking his brain, he came up with no major battles requiring that much Force concentration in the last four years since Jakku. “Me either,” he said. For Ezra it had been even longer. “But good job yesterday. I know it wasn’t quite the outcome we wanted, but—“
“It was progress,” Ezra finished. It was something. Luke nodded.
A dull pain suddenly pulsed through his right hand, which might as well have been a check engine light for his prosthetic. Not now, he complained to himself. He’d need to fix it soon. He flexed it, noting that it wasn’t responding as well as it should be.
“Yeah,” Luke said, a little absently, his finger movements delayed from when he wanted them to be.
“Something wrong?” Ezra asked.
“Yeah, my hand’s broken,” he muttered, staring at it like that would make a difference. “Probably needs rewired.”
When he looked back at Ezra he had quickly crossed the divide between them, taking Luke’s hand and staring at it intently. “Broken? If it’s broken you need a medic. It doesn’t look too bad right now, no bruising, maybe it’s just a sprain?”
Oh, Ezra had no idea it was a prosthetic. Why would he? Luke hadn’t ever mentioned it. He thought maybe it would be obvious by the glove he wore, but that was probably a ridiculous thing to assume. He laughed, and Ezra looked at him, blue eyes full of concern, his hands still cradling Luke’s prosthetic, which he was now actually starting to lose feeling in. Unfortunate that this was the first time they’d ever held hands.
“It’s a prosthetic,” he explained. He brought his arm up closer to their faces, tracing the faded line around his wrists where synthetic skin met real skin with his left finger. “If you look close enough you can see the difference in shade.”
Ezra squinted at it, then gently let go of his hand, taking a step back, more towards the showers. “Oh. You said rewired, I get it now,” he said. “I didn’t know you lost your hand.”
Luke nodded. “Yeah, uh, rough encounter with Vader,” he said, holding his wrist and twisting lightly, trying to massage feeling back into it. It really was on the fritz and he didn’t think the steam from the showers was helping.
Ezra’s eyes bulged. “Vader did that?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yep,” Luke confirmed, using his left hand still wrapped around his right wrist to wave it, a comical sight as it flopped around without Luke’s neurons to control it. “And now it doesn’t work. I’m gonna go get dressed and fix it. And then get breakfast. See you in the mess later?” He started backing up towards the door.
Ezra’s head tilted in slight confusion. “Luke, wait,” he said. Luke stopped. “You know you can… tell me these things, right?”
Luke swallowed, dropping both hands to his side. “Of course,” he said. Luke didn’t really talk much about the things that happened during the rebellion. He preferred to focus on the outcomes and the things he learned rather than his failures.
But he did trust Ezra. The bond they established yesterday only sealed it—Luke could let his guard down now. A guard he didn’t realize he’d had up this whole time.
He felt Ezra brush against his mind, a simple nudge, like he was searching for confirmation. If that’s what he wanted Luke gave it, willingly.
But he seemed like he wanted something more. “Good, just… always here. If you want to… talk.”
He scratched a spot behind his ear, clicking his tongue. Luke nodded. “I appreciate it,” Luke said, and Ezra nodded.
Neither of them moved. Ezra clearly had more to say that he wasn’t, either he couldn’t find the words or he was nervous, probably a combination of both. So, Luke took a deep breath, and prompted him. “Do you want to talk about something?”
“Well—“ Ezra shut his mouth, sighing. “We’re sort of in each other’s heads, and I feel like I barely know you at all. I mean, you saw me have a full-on panic attack the first week we knew each other and I didn’t even know you had a prosthetic hand. Not that you’re obligated to tell me stuff like that, or anything, I just—“
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he trailed off, like he’d said too much.
Luke swallowed. He supposed that he had been holding back, a little. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell him, it was just that it hadn’t come up. Besides, Ezra was dealing with enough, Luke didn’t want to dump his own old wounds onto him. But now it occurred to him that while Ezra had let himself be vulnerable around Luke, Luke hadn’t extended the same courtesy.
Ezra was already backtracking, trying to justify what he wanted to say with platitudes and niceties. “Forget I said anything, actually, I know I’m not entitled to your life story or whatever, so, uh, I’ll just take a shower, meet you in the mess, and—“
“I actually think you might be,” Luke interrupted, before he turned to shower. “Entitled to my life story.”
That was how friendship worked, wasn’t it? They kept dancing around it, like acknowledging they were friends would somehow ruin it. Ezra just wanted to know more, and Luke had been keeping it all in.
Ezra blinked in surprise. “Well—I don’t know if we have time for your whole life story.”
Luke shrugged. “What do you want to know?”
Ezra’s eyes very clearly drifted to Luke’s scars, maybe involuntarily, but Luke knew that was another question he wasn’t asking.
He should’ve expected it. But still, talking about it felt uncomfortable, like the electricity would come back if he spoke the words, if he relived the moment, even in his mind.
But this was Ezra. He trusted Ezra. And maybe that was something he very recently decided, but he was about to put that trust to the test right now.
“I, uh—“ Ezra started, but hesitated.
“Didn’t think you’d get this far in the conversation, huh?” Luke teased. The corner of Ezra’s lip twitched upwards, shaking his head.
“Not at all. Still remembering how to have those, to be honest.”
Understandable. His natural charisma might’ve masked his lack of human interaction for the last decade, but he was sure that didn’t make it any easier for him. Ezra admitting it was another vulnerability, a prompt, hoping Luke would reciprocate in kind.
“Well, there’s not much of a story to the hand thing, just a fight I wasn’t ready for. My friends were in danger and I thought I could face him. I was wrong. But all that’s public record now. What isn’t is…” Luke traced a particularly large lightning scar on his left arm. “On the second Death Star I learned that Palpatine could shoot lightning out of his fingers. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt, I really thought I was going to die. And I’ve been tortured before, but this electricity was different. It wasn’t just an interrogation tool, it was evil. I didn’t give him what he wanted, so he wanted me to suffer as much as possible before I died,” Luke explained. The only way he could get through it without his voice shaking was to make his voice as flat as possible, like he was reading off of a teleprompter, like it had happened to someone else. Images flashed through his mind, his father’s expressionless mask, the lightning whiting out his vision, his own screams foreign to his ears.
The words left his mouth and hung there, while Luke found a tile that was out of place on the refresher floor to stare at, to try and come back to himself:
“I’m sorry,” came Ezra’s soft reply, and it felt like a lifeline. Luke grabbed hold and remembered the present. “It sounds awful.”
Until that moment, Luke hadn’t realized all of that had been a secret. Sure, people knew about it, Leia and Han knew about it, Lando knew of it, his droids knew about it, but those people were all involved originally. They were practically there. After it had happened, Luke had shut a door in his mind and refused to let anything out, cementing it as something he could never open again.
Telling Ezra felt like letting go.
“It was,” Luke said. He felt a little lighter now, that moment so long ago becoming just that—a moment. It was over. All that was left were long-faded scars. He looked into Ezra’s eyes and released the memory into the Force. “But I’m glad you know about it now. I’m not usually forthcoming with these things, I promise it wasn’t personal.”
Ezra widened his eyes slightly, surprised. “I appreciate you telling me. You didn’t have to.”
“Felt good,” Luke said. “Who knew talking about your feelings could help you process them better?”
Ezra laughed, shaking his head. “Not me, that’s for sure,” he agreed.
“We’re doing our best,” he smiled.
Ezra nodded, his face settling into a smile. “Yeah. Nice to have someone to fumble through it all with,” he said. Luke felt the lightness of this moment again, realizing abruptly how… lonely he’d been before all this happened. He thought he was being a good Jedi, making sure to not get too attached, making sure not to burden others with the hurt he carried, but maybe he’d been going about it all wrong. Maybe he needed to fumble through it with Ezra. “Kinda nice to not be the only disaster.”
Luke couldn’t help but smile as Ezra’s shoulders relaxed. The relief that came with knowing there was someone else out there who understood. They didn’t have to do all this alone.
“Excuse you, I’m extremely well-adjusted, thank you very much,” Luke joked, and Ezra shook his head.
“I know that was sarcasm, but you’re more well-adjusted than I am.”
Luke sighed. He wasn’t completely adjusted, that was for sure, but he had had years to process, and he’d done what he thought was his best. Ezra was still actively dealing with everything, and it didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon, if the most recent battle was anything to go by. “I’ve had more time,” he assured him. “No one expects you to be perfectly fine right now.”
“No, not fine, exactly, just that they expect me to be… different than I am. Like I’m supposed to be the same as I was before…”
“Before Peridea?”
Ezra nodded. “And I wish I remembered how to be, but every time I try, I’m wrong. How can I fail at being myself?”
Luke felt openness from him. There was so much hurt and trauma in Ezra’s life, but he was letting Luke see what Ezra saw when he looked at himself. He was being vulnerable too, just like Luke was.
Luke chewed on the inside of his lips. He looked down at his arm, the lightning patterns on his skin, and a thought occurred to him. “After Endor, I had a medic look at these scars, just to see if there was anything she could do. She gave me some bacta and she told me not to worry because lightning scars fade within a couple of days,” he said, turning his arms over so Ezra could maybe even get a better look. “Whatever dark magic had erupted from Palpatine’s fingers wasn’t just any old lightning. He wanted to leave a mark, so these scars are part of me now. And yes, they’re a permanent reminder of what happened to me, but they’re also a reminder that I survived. I think letting go isn’t pretending like nothing bad ever happened, it’s just… accepting that that’s not all there is. It’s not letting go of the bad memories themselves, it’s letting go of the people we were before them. No one gets to be nineteen forever.”
Ezra took a deep breath, nodding. For a long moment they stood there, letting Luke’s words hang in the air.
He wanted to be himself again, and Luke could understand that. Sometimes it was easier to chase the memory of being happy than to find happiness again. But Luke wanted to tell him what he saw when he looked at him. Luke wanted to tell him that he saw a Jedi, war-torn and battle-hardened, but compassionate still, and kind. He saw someone whose heart had been broken again and again, but it remained soft to the galaxy, to the people he loved so dearly and without question. He saw a survivor, determined and headstrong, but always able to make people laugh. He liked the Ezra he knew right now.
“Easier said than done,” said Ezra.
Luke knew that. He nodded. “Of course it is. I probably need to take my own advice too. But like you said, we’re fumbling through this together.”
Ezra smiled, genuine. “Together,” he repeated. Luke tried to quell the way his heart stuttered, the satisfaction in his chest. “Thank you. For telling me things. And letting me tell you things.”
“Any time. I didn’t realize I was holding it all back. I’m not good at… being vulnerable.”
“Yeah, well, being vulnerable kinda sucks, so,” Ezra shrugged, but he was smiling now, his face flushed a little in the steam.
“I do feel better, though,” Luke smiled. “So thank you too.”
Ezra gestured at him. “You’re welcome,” he said.
They paused, letting the moment hang in the air, warmth between them. The Force felt free and open, despite the threats they still faced outside these walls. Luke took a deep breath. “Well, I’m going to fix my hand because it doesn’t work, and then I’m getting breakfast. See you then?”
Ezra beamed at him, his eyes bright and warm despite the harsh fluorescent lights of this refresher. He nodded. “See you then. Someday you should show me how it works so I can… I dunno. Help if it breaks again.”
Luke had never thought about teaching another person to help with his hand, it had always just been something he did and maybe enlisted a droid to hold things for him. It was his hand, his problem. But he very much didn’t hate the thought of Ezra helping him. “I will.”
His wrist started to ache as it held the weight of a hunk of dead metal, but he barely noticed it right now, the weight of a lot of other stuff finally off his shoulders. Things with Ezra felt solid in a way they hadn’t since he met him. Their trust was mutual, and open. He didn’t have to constantly wonder anymore. Ezra trusted him and Luke trusted Ezra. Just thinking about it made him feel electric and unstoppable.
He practically skipped to the mechanic’s station, and fixed his hand in record time.
—
Now
Ezra found Luke in the garden with a small wrench in his mouth, glove off on the ground to reveal the metal prosthetic underneath. He hadn’t bothered with synthetic skin in years.
The way he tinkered with his own hand was wildly inefficient, something Ezra had told him several times over the years. It was like he’d rather just rely on the Force than ask someone for help. Luke probably also thought Ezra didn’t notice he was the only person who was even allowed to help, but he did.
“Okay,” Ezra said, grabbing the wrench out from behind Luke’s teeth and sitting across from him. He wiped Luke’s saliva off the wrench on Luke’s shoulder and Luke made a face at him, but sighed and held out his arm anyways. Ezra peered inside at the wires and synapses intricately woven through the metal. He held out his hand and Luke gave him the smaller tool he was using to mess with the wires.
“It just needs a little adjustment, not too much.”
Ezra was used to the way he wanted it, and sure enough there really were only a couple of coils that needed adjusting. Ezra tested it, Luke’s fingers twitching in reaction. He handed Luke’s tools back to him. “What would you do without me?”
“I think I manage just fine,” Luke grumbled.
“It’s cute that you think so.”
Luke rolled his eyes and let Ezra help him to his feet. He started back towards the temple grounds when Ezra called out, “You’re welcome!”
Luke waved his hand without turning back, which was his attempt at saying thank you and Ezra took it as genuinely as he could.
Back at his own living space, his commlink chimed. He pulled it off the counter, expecting to see Hera, but was met with— “Leia, hi!”
“I have someone tracing this call,” she said in her very scary Senator voice, which would only be actually scary if Ezra was in any way afraid of senators.
“You don’t think I’ve encrypted this? You’re not getting through my firewalls,” he said. Although she might, eventually. He needed to keep this call short.
“Where is my brother?”
“Outside. He went for a walk.”
“Ezra.”
“Leia.”
“We need him.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he asked. It had been years of this, unsuccessful attempts at getting Luke to leave. He refused.
“Fine, then we need you,” she said.
“You must be really desperate then.”
But he knew she wasn’t, he knew he could be helping just as much as Luke could. Leia just shook her head. “One of these days, Bridger.”
She cut the connection. Ezra tossed the commlink back onto the counter, rubbing his hand over his face. He felt Luke behind him in the Force before he heard him, and he didn’t turn. He’d made peace with not leaving Luke, knew it was the right choice, but the stern look on Leia’s face had affected him more than he expected.
“My sister called?” Luke asked, sounding incredulous, like how dare she try to contact him. Ezra spun on his heel, glaring at him.
“You should really call her back,” he said, reaching out with the Force to pull the commlink to him, then stomping towards Luke and thrusting it into his hands. He bumped his shoulder only partially by accident on his way out.
It was a long time before Luke came to find him again, left alone with his thoughts at the top of a mountain. Ezra didn’t always enjoy being alone with his thoughts, but Luke was making him do a lot of thinking.
Luke’s moods came and went in waves, and Ezra’s frustration with him. Every reminder that Luke was refusing to go home hit Ezra differently. His sister calling was just further proof that Ezra was failing. That this life they’d built here was a fantasy.
If Leia couldn’t talk sense into him, no one could.
Luke sat down beside him, wind whipping through his hair. He handed the commlink back to Ezra. Ezra stared at it, waiting for the excuses to come pouring out of his mouth. He’d heard it all before. Instead, Luke said, “I called her.”
Ezra blinked. Luke pushed the commlink at him, and Ezra finally took it. “And?”
His heart was racing. Was this the moment? Were they finally going to go back?
“And I told her I wasn’t coming back,” he said.
Ezra deflated, pocketing the commlink and staring out at the sea. He was now done with this conversation, he’d see Luke again tomorrow.
Luke, stubborn, annoying Luke, didn’t move.
“She told me the galaxy found out about Vader being our father,” he continued. “That’s why she founded the Resistance, she lost all credibility in the Senate and the New Republic’s practically lost already. You were right about the First Order not being entirely my fault.”
Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Say that again?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “You heard me.”
Ezra stuck his pinky in his ear, twisting it around dramatically. “No, I don’t think I did, I’m going to need you to say it again.”
Luke shook his head, sighing. Conceding. “You were right.”
“Of course I was right, you asshole,” he chided, nudging his shoulder. “Nobody listens to me around here.”
“Because you’re insufferable.”
“I’m a delight and you know it.”
Luke reached over to place his hand on top of Ezra’s, taking a shaky breath. “I think one day it’ll be time. I can’t hide from the Force forever, like I thought I could. But Leia’s son—Ben, Kylo Ren, whatever he’s calling himself now, that is my fault. And as much as Leia denies it, as much as she says she blames Snoke and not me, it doesn’t change that.” Ezra opened his mouth, ready to object instinctively, when Luke shook his head. “That’s her son. Anything I do now will only make things worse.”
The salty air was thick between them, but Luke was calm about it. Despite the things he was saying, the despair and hopelessness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.
“I think if you showed up she’d be happy anyways,” he said. Luke just shrugged.
“Maybe,” he said. “She did say she asked you for help too.”
Luke’s face was a blank mask, hiding all of his emotions. He’d always been like this, an enigma waiting to be solved. But Ezra solved him a long time ago. “She did. What would you do if I said yes?”
“It’s up to you, Ezra.” Ezra tilted his head forward, waiting. Studying the smooth lines of his face, waiting for the crease, the show of the emotions inside. It happened when he blinked just a little too long.
“So if I left, you’d be fine with that.”
“I wouldn’t try to stop you.”
He was so good at telling the truth without saying anything real. He always hated being vulnerable.
For Luke, Ezra could be patient. Even as the frustration mounted, even as Leia’s words haunted him, Luke was too important to give up on now.
He just wanted Luke to say it.
“Then maybe I’ll leave. You’d be alone, no one bothering you.”
Luke hesitated for the slightest moment, just enough that Ezra only noticed because their faces were so close and he knew him as well as he did. “You can do whatever you want, Ezra.”
“But if you wanted me to stay, I would.”
“Ezra, don’t.” His forehead creased ever so slightly. He closed his eyes a little too long.
“Just tell me to stay,” Ezra whispered.
Luke leaned forward and kissed him.
It was an explanation. His lips were soft despite the cold ocean air, despite the biting wind at the top of the mountain. There was a desperation in the way his hand tangled in Ezra’s shirt, pulling him closer, bodies pressed against each other. Ezra cupped his cheek with one hand, slipping his fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. Luke just gasped against his mouth.
When they finally broke apart they were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as they remembered how to get air into their lungs.
“Stay,” Luke whispered. “I want you to stay. And someday I’ll make it up to you.”
Ezra laughed, relief bubbling out of him in waves. Of course he would stay, of course of course, of course. But it was music to his ears just to hear him say Luke wanted it too.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
—
Then
“Now you just sit there and don’t go anywhere until you feel the Force or whatever, I’m going to be right back,” Ezra ordered, and Jacen laughed as he got off the mat and walked towards where Luke and Hera were sitting, watching him train.
He stopped in front of them, putting his hands on his hips and nodding. He was a ball of tightly wound, nervous energy right now, unable to stand still. His foot tapped rhythmically against the ground.
“Everything okay?” Hera asked.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good, it’s fine, it’s great, even. So good,” he said. Luke raised an eyebrow, because that didn’t sound like he was good. Hera stood up from her seat and put her hands on his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he blurted. “He trusts me so much, Hera. His little face gets all scrunched up when he concentrates, he’s so cute and innocent and smart and what if I screw it all up? What if he asks me questions about stuff and I have no idea? Kanan always knew what to say, he always had it figured out.”
Hera chuckled to herself, touching Ezra’s cheek. “I think you’re misremembering Kanan’s early days, dear. Remember when he tried to give you to Luminara? He didn’t know what he was doing either.”
Ezra pouted at her, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. “Yeah, but—“
“I’m really glad you’re taking this seriously, but you’re doing fine,” she said. “He doesn’t need to become a Jedi immediately.”
“Or ever,” Luke interjected. Ezra and Hera both looked at him like they just remembered he was sitting there. “Maybe the Force will lead him on a different path. Neither of you will know unless you keep going. Stumbling through it or not, at least you’re doing it.”
Ezra sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and nodding. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”
Hera patted his head only somewhat condescendingly. “You’re doing great.”
He took a shaky breath and turned on his heel to go back towards Jacen, but stopped and met Luke’s eyes instead. “Want to join us? You’re better at the meditating thing.”
Luke’s instinct was to say yes, but Hera had been very clear about wanting Ezra to train Jacen, not Luke. This was something that was obvious even before Ezra came back from Peridea. Hera had never outright told Luke he couldn’t train Jacen, but Luke had never even offered. He knew enough about the family dynamic of the Ghost to know it wouldn’t have been the same.
He glanced at Hera, who gave a slight nod, knowing exactly what he was thinking about the unspoken rule between them. With confirmation in tow, he nodded at Ezra and stood up. Ezra grinned and immediately wrapped his arm around Luke’s bicep, pulling him physically towards Jacen. Ever since the Dathomir battle Ezra had been more open with his touch. Luke was not complaining.
They joined Jacen on the mat, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. Ezra let go of Luke finally, but their knees were still touching, grounding them both. Jacen opened one eye to look at them. “I feel the Force,” he said.
“That’s great, bud,” Ezra said. “What’s it feel like?”
Jacen closed his eyes again, and Luke did feel the shift in the Force as Jacen pushed into it, exploring. His small but bright flame in the Force flickered like a heartbeat, steady and true.
“Like water,” Jacen answered. “A big, deep sea. Like the ocean on Seatos. Or the lake on Lothal.”
Luke watched Ezra’s face soften at the mention of his home planet. The home he still hadn’t been back to, even after being back in the right galaxy for at least a year now. He kept refusing, saying it wouldn’t be the same without Sabine.
“That’s really good,” Ezra said. “You’re picking this up quick.”
Jacen smiled, opening his eyes finally and meeting Ezra’s, excited. “What’s it feel like to you?”
Luke told Ezra once how he saw the Force, but he’d never asked Ezra how he saw it. He watched the smile tug at Ezra’s lips with bated breath. “Similar, actually,” said Ezra. “I just see… Lothal. Twin moons up in the sky. Every living thing tucked safely in its grasslands. You’re a little Loth-cat. With green stripes.”
Jacen giggled. “Cool,” he said. Luke couldn’t help smiling at the two of them.
It turned out that Jacen was a natural at meditation. Where both Luke and Ezra had had to learn how to meditate and find calm in the midst of battle, Jacen found it everywhere. Luke felt a small brush in his mind, curious and bright, largely untainted by the horrors of war.
Beside him, Ezra shifted. He felt the other man’s nervousness in the Force and sent a calming wave back. Ezra exhaled slowly, quieting his thoughts and relaxing. When Ezra reached out to Jacen to establish that tentative Master-Padawan training bond, Jacen was eager to learn, eager to connect.
As much as Ezra doubted himself, he was good at this. His natural charisma and huge heart was a winning combination. Luke would sit and meditate with them, sure, but watching Ezra run through lightsaber forms and teach Jacen about kyber crystals was more fulfilling than anything Luke could’ve done with Jacen. As much as Jacen would’ve listened to Luke, Ezra was clearly the better choice.
Hera established that Jacen wouldn’t be going on dangerous missions with any of them until he was older, but he could participate in the supply run they were making today for more weapons.
By supply run, Hera really did mean the legal acquisition of weapons by a New Republic Military officer, so the only danger they’d be facing today was boredom. Ezra was even a little disappointed by this, since, in his words, “We used to make deals with pirates.”
“I want to meet a pirate,” came Jacen’s eager reply.
“Is Hondo still around?” Ezra asked.
“I’m rethinking my decision to let any of you come.”
The supply run mostly consisted of Jacen learning how the hyperdrive worked and Ezra talking about hyperspace, and he got to tag along when they met the supply officer and Hera signed for the crates they’d be hauling back to Home One.
Uneventful, until the way back. When Jacen’s meditation was put to the real test. Ezra hadn’t told him to meditate while they were in hyperspace, and really hadn’t done it since the last disastrous attempt. But Jacen sat down in the living room floor and closed his eyes.
Ezra, who had up until that point been just sitting on the couch next to Luke, stiffened, reaching instinctively for Luke’s wrist. He realized what he did a moment later and abruptly dropped it, meeting Luke’s eyes for a brief moment in apology.
“You all right?” Luke blurted.
It was a stupid question, Luke realized it the second it left his mouth, but Ezra was already nodding too quickly in confirmation for that to be his real answer.
“Fine, sorry.”
“Don’t be. I think you should tell him about it. It might help.”
Ezra’s forehead creased slightly. “With what?”
Luke shrugged. “All of it.”
He pulled himself to his feet, placing his hands on the table in front of him and leaning on them so he could peer over at Jacen. The green-haired boy’s eyes were still closed and he made no indication he could hear any of their conversation. He scooted out from behind the table and plopped himself down next to Jacen, his back to Luke.
“You’re nervous,” Jacen said, without opening his eyes.
Luke attempted to stealthily leave them alone, but Ezra whirled his head around before he could. “Stay. Please,” he said, and Luke couldn’t say no to the softness in his voice.
Jacen finally opened his eyes, frowning at Ezra. “Why are you nervous?”
It took Ezra a moment to compose himself before he answered. “When I… purrgil’d my way out of the galaxy it— I don’t really know what happened to me. It was a lot of raw power I didn’t fully understand. And it took me to a place where I was all alone for a really long time, and I don’t like to be alone. Hyperspace is beautiful, but it can be dangerous. Sometimes when I reach for the Force in hyperspace, I can get lost.”
Jacen watched Ezra with genuine concern, and put a hand on his shoulder, mirroring the same movement Hera often did with him. “So you’re scared?”
Despite everything, Ezra laughed. “I suppose I am,” he said. “I know Jedi aren’t supposed to be scared. So I think I’ll do this anyway. Will you help me?”
“You want me to help you?” Jacen asked, his eyes widening. Ezra just nodded. He caught Luke’s eye “I don’t know anything about hyperspace or purrgil. What if you get lost?”
Ezra shrugged, holding out his hand, palm up. “I don’t think I will. Cause I’m not alone,” he said. “What do you say? Want to see what the purrgil do?”
Jacen took a deep breath, but he nodded, and took Ezra’s hand.
Luke knew Ezra was trusting him to be the backup, but he was also pretty sure he didn’t need to be. Ezra wasn’t getting lost because of some ridiculous Force nonsense about hyperspace, he was being transported back to being a war-torn teenager who just condemned himself to ten years in exile on a lifeless planet.
There was no doubt in Luke’s mind that Ezra was in a better place now, that him meditating in hyperspace with Jacen Syndulla would be just as uneventful as their supply mission.
They sat for a few hours in that state, hyperspace quietly humming around them. Luke nudged against Ezra’s mind, and for a second he saw Ezra against a dull backdrop, bruised and dirty and completely alone, his eyes lifeless as he walked. But quickly that memory changed, and Sabine was hugging him. It changed again and he was back on Home One, hugging Hera. Hyperspace wasn’t tugging at him anymore. He had control. The streaking stars became his stepping stones as he hopped through the galaxy, one foot at a time.
Sure enough, Luke did not need to intervene, and in fact Ezra looked more well rested and alert than he had in weeks as they stopped. He still seemed surprised at this development, but neither Jacen or Luke were. Jacen practically beamed at Ezra. “We did it.”
Ezra reached over to ruffle his hair. “Good job, kid.”
Jacen’s eyes flitted to meet Luke’s, then back to Ezra. He looked at them with a sense of curiosity, like he was trying to figure them out. “Why didn’t Mom want him to train me but you let him in here?” Jacen asked. Luke blanched. Children and their inability to filter their thoughts.
Ezra took it in stride, as Luke scooted out from behind the table to join them on the floor. “Because your mom knows I’m way cooler than he is,” said Ezra, which only elicited an eye roll from Jacen.
“Sure you are,” he said.
“Your mom just wanted someone she trusted to train you,” interjected Luke, nudging Ezra’s shoulder. “She didn’t know me very well.” Jacen looked between them, almost skeptically. He didn’t say anything, but somehow Luke felt very exposed, like he knew something Luke didn’t. After a minute of Jacen’s staring, he accepted the answer and nodded.
“Guess now I get two teachers,” he decided. Ezra and Luke exchanged a glance—they were both in agreement that was not going to happen. But they weren’t going to mention it to Jacen just yet.
With another several hours in hyperspace, Jacen got some sleep and Luke and Ezra spoke to Hera briefly before ending up alone in the main area of the Ghost. Ezra flipped a switch and soft music started playing, some Corellian pop singer from hundreds of years ago. Ezra raised an eyebrow in question, and Luke nodded. He liked this song, and it wasn’t the first time they’d played it through this living room.
“You’re good with him,” Luke commented, after a beat of comfortable silence, just listening to the song. There was a bit of space between them on the small couch, and Ezra closed it by putting his hand down on the bench and leaning on it, into Luke’s space by a breath. He grinned over at Luke, eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of a hard day’s work.
“You think?”
“Of course,” Luke said. “Better than I would be for sure.”
“Well, that much was obvious,” Ezra flashed him a grin. “Still, it’s nice to have you around. Just in case.”
“Well, I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon,” Luke voiced a thought he didn’t realize he’d decided already. It surprised both of them to hear it, with Ezra pulling away from Luke slightly.
“Really? Even after all this is done?”
Luke shrugged. “I mean, yeah. We at least still have to have our Lothal temple date.”
The flirtation just bumbled out of his mouth without consulting his brain, but Ezra laughed, easy and light. “Right, right, I almost forgot,” he said. “It’s cold near the poles, are you sure your desert sensibilities can handle it?”
“I lived on Hoth for about a couple months, I think I’ll manage,” he retorted. Ezra rolled his eyes, but the smile never slipped from his face. He leaned back against the bench seat, a little closer to Luke again, humming along to the song. It was clear after a few notes that he didn’t know any of the words, despite this definitely being his playlist.
He wasn’t a bad singer. Luke couldn’t hold a tune to save his life but even Ezra’s humming was in the right key. It drew him in, and soon Ezra’s face was only inches from his. Ezra’s smile was easy as he grabbed Luke’s wrist and said, “Dance with me.” He pulled Luke out to the middle of the room.
Luke’s face felt warm, his heart stuttering in his chest as Ezra clasped their hands together. He placed his other hand on Luke’s shoulder. When Luke didn’t move, unsure of where to put his free hand, Ezra slid his fingers down Luke’s arm, guiding Luke’s hand to rest just above Ezra’s waist.
“Sabine never let me lead,” he muttered, swaying slightly in time with the music. Luke was not a dancer, had never danced besides sometimes going to dive bars in Mos Eisley when he definitely wasn’t supposed to. If Ezra wasn’t leading, neither of them were.
“Are there… specific steps?” Luke asked. Ezra’s fingertips dug gently into Luke’s shoulder, and in response he extended his arms, stepping away from Luke. He let go of Luke’s shoulder to spin himself under Luke’s other arm, twisting back into Luke’s grasp with ease.
“Not really, just feel it,” he said. Luke looked down, trying to match Ezra’s fancier footwork, which unsurprisingly resembled his lightsaber footwork. With that in mind, the dancing became just a bit easier.
A bit. Luke accidentally misstepped when Ezra tried another spin, scraping his boot against Ezra’s ankle. He apologized immediately, but Ezra just let his head roll back with laughter, pulling Luke a little closer and letting his hand on Luke’s shoulder slide up and hook around his neck.
By that point they’d stopped trying to actually dance and were just swaying comfortably to the music, staring at each other, close enough that Luke could feel Ezra’s breath on his lips. He tried to keep his eyes on Ezra’s, but they trailed down to look at his slightly parted lips, unable to look away. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest, way faster than the slow song that played softly over the speaker.
Ezra’s middle finger ghosted the side of Luke’s neck, almost hesitantly, like a question. In response, Luke pulled Ezra closer, so their hips were pressed against each other. There was nothing on his mind but Ezra, flush against him, nearing a line that if crossed they’d never return from.
Like hyperspace, the thought of them was beautiful and dangerous. And absolutely terrifying.
And Ezra kissed him anyway.
It felt like something exploded in the Force, warmth and passion mixing together between the two of them with each shared breath. Ezra kissed like he meant it, like he’d been waiting for it, like this was inevitable, his confidence palpable in the press of his lips, the slide of his tongue. Luke hadn’t been kissed like this in a long time, and he thought might melt into the floor. If he was being honest with himself, he’d wanted to kiss Ezra since the first day they met, when he was all nerves and trauma responses. None of that was obvious now.
He let go of Luke’s hand to cup the other side of Luke’s face, a soft caress that made Luke’s knees feel slightly weak, somehow feather-light and grounded at the same time. He pulled Ezra closer, if that was even possible, the heat of their bodies causing some sort of ripple in the Force. Luke couldn’t think beyond Ezra’s mouth against his, his hands tangled in his hair, his heartbeat echoed in Luke’s chest.
When they broke apart they were breathless, but it wasn’t for long. Ezra’s eyes were dark, hungry, as they trailed over Luke’s face, down to the rest of him. They both knew they couldn’t have just one kiss, that despite sharing body heat, there was still a layer of clothing separating them from what was coming next.
Part of Luke’s mind was screaming a warning that he’d crossed a line, that this was going to be complicated, that if he let Ezra push him onto a bed and take him apart he would take the galaxy with him. Wasn’t that what happened with Vader? Obsession, passion, attachment—things he was supposed to be avoiding.
Part of him was terrified of this, of the feelings in his chest, a tangled mess of admiration and attraction and genuine human connection, but the other part of him thought of hyperspace. If Ezra could take a leap, then Luke would be right there with him.
And then Ezra put his lips to the underside of Luke’s jaw, trailing a line of kisses down his neck, and Luke realized he’d already jumped, and he was already falling.