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Obi-Wan is asleep when the news comes through. Contrary to the sincere beliefs of her men, her padawan, and many of the people she’s rescued throughout the years, she does need to rest sometimes. She just tries to limit those times to when nothing is actively on fire.
When her door slides open halfway through the middle of fourth shift, the whisper of the motor accompanied by rapidly pounding boots, she groans without opening her eyes. She recognizes Cody through the darkness, through the dim haze of a rare deep sleep.
“Commander?” she asks groggily. Nothing was on fire when she went to sleep, and she dreads hearing what new disaster is shooting off sparks. “What’s happened?”
She reaches out a hand and searches with the Force for the pull of her lightsaber, but her outstretched hand connects with plastoid instead of the durasteel of her saber. She looks up to see Cody, bucketless, standing over her with a wild look in his eyes.
“We won,” he says, and then he puts his knee on her bed, his hand in her hair, and his mouth on her mouth, just like that.
It’s a fierce, biting kiss from the start. Cody nudges her mouth open with his own until he can lick in, hot and wet and sudden, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t awake enough for a Separatist invasion, she definitely isn’t awake enough for this. They’ve kissed before—they’ve traded soft kisses goodnight and once, terribly, a kiss goodbye—but they’d long-ago agreed to reserve anything else for after the war, when the fate of their men didn’t depend on their ability to be professional.
Wait.
After the war.
She pulls back as far as his grip on the short waves of her hair will let her, and tingles race down her spine when he reflexively tightens his hold before letting her go.
“Won?” she asks, fighting to keep herself from leaning back into him before she gets answers. “Won what?”
“The war, Obi-Wan,” he says, panting against her mouth. “It’s over.”
And she wants more answers than that, she wants to know how the war could possibly be over when they’re still two days out from Utapau, but she can feel his relief and elation as if they were her own. Her heart races, her breath quickens. Over? It doesn’t seem possible: as impossible as waking up to find that the stars stopped burning.
Cody knocks his forehead against hers. The fall of his eyelashes are dark half-moons across his cheeks.
“Over,” he promises, and she feels the truth of it in the joy in his heart when he kisses her again.
She kisses back this time, throws herself into it, and it’s sloppy and messy because she can’t stop smiling. By the Force, they've been fighting for this moment every day, but she’d never let herself imagine what it might look like. She'd imagined the aftermath plenty, of course, the paperwork and the reparations, and she’d imagined inviting her would-be former commander to her quarters, offering him caf, and asking about his plans for the future and hoping they might include her. She hadn’t imagined this.
Part of her wonders if she should get some distance, sit side by side at a table and talk things through, but they’ve done their talking. Endless, coherent, logical quantities of talking, and she finds she’d much rather have this instead. Her fingers fit easily into the gaps between his cuisses and his thighs, and with a single tug, she pulls his body all the way onto the bed.
With a muffled shout, he goes. He swings his free leg over her hips and settles over her with false calm. His thighs quiver with the effort of holding himself over her so that she can feel his weight but isn’t crushed by it. Something drops low in her stomach at the picture they make: him in full armor and her in her thin cotton sleep shift. She almost wants to leave the armor on, but more than that she wants to put her mouth on him and suck three years of bruises into the curve of his neck.
Over. By the Force, it's finally over.
“How did it happen?” she asks, even as her fingers find the clasps on his armor and pull them apart, piece by small, familiar piece.
Cody doesn’t manage to answer; he only stares down at her, mesmerized. Shock and disbelief pour off him in waves, as if he didn’t think he’d get this far, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her before he wakes up in the world where Obi-Wan had insisted on talking things through first. One of his greaves falls onto the sheets beside her thighs as a clasp unclicks, and she laughs when he jumps.
She grins. “Come on, multitask. Where’s my situational report, Commander?”
He chokes on a laugh, startled into movement, and starts unsnapping his other greave. “You want a strip tease and a sitrep? So demanding."
“We call that a strip-rep,” she quips, and she thinks she probably deserves it when Cody groans and shuts her up with another kiss, but she can feel his chest shaking with repressed laughter when he does.
Force, it feels so good to laugh again, and Obi-Wan can’t help the joy bubbling up through her chest in little hiccups of laughter that interrupt the kiss. She doesn’t know when she last laughed like this; the past three years have been full of thoughtful hums and sighs of grief. Cody seems to feel the same at least. She’s seen him laugh more in the past ten minutes than the past ten months.
“Stars, I should’ve known you’d be like this in bed, too,” he whispers when he pulls back.
She grins. “What, capable of multitasking?”
“Ha, ha.”
She lets him kiss her silent again as she takes the opportunity to stretch her arms around him and search blindly for the magnetic releases on the side seams of his armor. Her fingers dig into divots in the plastoid until she feels the locks disengage with a series of light snaps. When Cody pulls back from her again, the front of his chest plate doesn’t rise back up with him. It slides off her body with a quick twist of her torso.
“Now, about that strip—“ she starts, but her mouth goes dry when he unbuckles his bracers and coiters in four quick motions, flings them over the side of the bed, and then strips the uppers of his blacks to reveal a sea of skin. She reaches for him then, runs her hands over the smooth lines of his pecs, his slightly offset abs, and she marvels at how his lats strain when his breath quickens beneath her touch.
“Come here,” she says instead, curling one hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down until she can feel her breasts press against his bare chest through the thin cotton of her shift. His skin is so warm against hers, and she shudders as all that warmth pours into her.
It’s been so long, and she’s wanted him so much.
“Okay, off, take it all off,” she says, and this time, he’s the one laughing as he pulls away.
“What about the strip-rep?” he asks, grinning, and he goes for one cuisse while she goes for the other.
“Perhaps sometime later,” she says, and she’s surprised to find she means it. If Cody says the war is over, then the war is over. Maybe Grievous’ heart ran out of diesel fuel, maybe the Sith lord choked on a grape, maybe, maybe, maybe… but whatever it is, finding out can wait until after she gets Cody’s dick in her mouth.
When the rest of Cody’s armor is in haphazard piles on her floor, he slides his hands under the edge of her sleep shift. His callouses leave lingering echoes of sensation up her thighs, over her hips, and across the tense planes of her abs. A few of her scars run across her ribs, and there’s a strange lack of sensation when Cody lingers there. The tips of his fingers find the smooth curve of the shadow beneath her breasts, and then he cups them, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples until she feels them pebble.
“Cody,” she sighs, and it’s so easy. It’s so much easier with him than it should be, as easy as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. They move so well together, and Obi-Wan wonders if their three years of shared combat might have built up some transferable skills.
He bends down to mouth at her hardened nipples through her shirt, the damp, rough cotton sending shivers of want through her spine. Force, she’s so glad it’s him. She tries to lean into the storm of sensation building between them, trying not to doubt this new happiness but always hesitant to believe in the sudden appearance of joy.
She runs her nails through the cropped coils of his hair.
“You’re sure?” she asks softly. “The war is over, and this is what you want?”
He bends up to kiss her, as soft and sweet as his first kiss had been desperate. “Yes. More than anything else.”
His hands are warm when they retreat to the edge of her shirt and tug it up her body. He lifts it over her head until she raises her arms and helps him pull it off. It goes over the side of the bed to rest alongside the rest of the things Obi-Wan hopes they won’t need for a long while yet.
When she lies back, his breath doesn’t catch; his hands don’t twitch. He holds himself as still as he does when sighting down the long barrel of his DC-15LE, eyes dark and intent and every atom of his body straining towards her. His dick is straining against the fabric of the pants of his body glove, pressing dampness into the fabric, and she sits up to reach for the top of his pants.
“Let’s get you out of these, then,” she says, pressing against his abdomen until he’s kneeling in front of her.
She hooks her fingers into the elastic band of his pants and his briefs, and he lets her drag them both over the head of his dick and down his thighs. Obi-Wan’s stays where she is, her hands on the bed by his knees and her head at eye level with the pink, glistening curve of Cody’s dick, and she sits back on her heels and looks up. The jut of Cody’s chin and the soft curve of his shoulders are proud and only a little shy, and Obi-Wan wraps her hand around the base just to watch his eyes darken that much more.
“Lie back,” she says. “Please.”
He does without question, without a word, and he doesn’t blink when she plants herself between his spread legs and leans down to press her lips to the damp slit of his dick. She leaves her mouth there as she flicks her eyes up to catch Cody’s, and she smiles against his damp skin when she feels his dick twitch in her hands.
“Your eyes,” he says, and she slides her mouth over his dick without letting her gaze drop once.
His hips twitch up on instinct, pushing his dick towards the back of her throat, and she reaches for the Force to help hold his hips down. It’s been a while since she’s done this—Force, has it been five years since Quin? Damn—and she doesn’t want her gag reflex to make this any messier than it always is.
“Obi-Wan,” he grits out, his abdominal muscles clearly straining against the Force hold, and she hums a question around his dick as she starts to use the hand wrapped around the base to jack him off.
“Fucking—Obi-Wan, this isn’t—this isn’t going to last long,” he gasps.
She hums around him again and huffs a little laugh as she pulls away. A thread of saliva hangs between his dick and her mouth, and she pops her lips so it breaks.
“It’s fine,” she reassures him. If she’s honest, she’d been worried that she’d lost her touch over the long slog of the war. “Force, Cody, we’ve endured practically three years of edging; I wouldn’t expect anyone to last long. Just let me make you feel good,” she says, and she keeps her voice soft and understanding. “This is hardly a one-time deal.”
When she goes down on him again, she guides his hand to the nape of her neck, humming light praise when he curls his fingers in the strands. He tightens his grip until it’s firm but not painful, just holding her in place as she bobs her head, and Force, she’d forgotten how much she loves this.
The rest of it comes back to her easily as she sets to work, as she curls her tongue and hollows her cheeks, and the grip in her hair gets steadily more restless. His fingers clench and unclench to the twitching of his hips beneath her Force hold. She flicks her eyes back up to hold Cody’s, marvels at how they’re blown wide and mesmerized, and she goes as far down as she safely can and swallows.
“Obi-Wan—” he chokes out, weakly pulling her hair as if to pull her away, but she just swallows again, and again , and the sudden burst of come in her mouth feels like victory.
She pulls away as he’s still coming, as she’s still stroking him through it with her right hand, and she has to wipe come off her chin with her left.
On his back on the bed, Cody is as out of it as Obi-Wan’s ever seen him. His lungs move like forge bellows, shivering with the aftershocks, and Obi-Wan would bet the whole ship can feel exactly how smug she is right now. He comes back to himself a few seconds later, still dazed, and he reaches for her before he opens his eyes. He groans at what she imagines is the taste of himself on her lips, licking the come from beneath her tongue.
They pull back at the same time, and Cody flattens his palm over the soft planes of her stomach until he twists his hand to curve beneath the band of her panties and through her coarse hair. His fingers keep going, further down, until they find her soaking, sopping wet center.
“Show me,” he says with a voice like gravel and smoke, and she puts her fingers over his and leads him to where her clit is already round and hard and sparking at even his light, inquisitive touch.
He uses his other hand to drag her panties down her thighs, just far enough to see what he’s doing, while she coaxes his fingers into light circles. The movement of his fingers follows her own, alternating between fast and slow, and she can feel his confidence building as her breathing quickens. He slips further down to press into her, and when his fingers move back up, they’re slick and smooth with her own wetness.
“Stars, Obi-Wan, the things I want to do to you,” he whispers, and he pulls her around until he’s sitting up against the wall and she’s in his lap, and when he presses against her again, she turns her face into the warm line of his neck. He sinks two fingers into her, thick and calloused, and slides them in and out in the slow, steady rhythm that Obi-Wan had built for him earlier. “I want to do everything to you.”
“Slow, slower,” she chokes out and shows him how. He’s always been a quick study, but she’s too overwhelmed to be properly impressed. When he runs the barest hint of a nail over her, her spine lights up, filled with fireworks, and she’s close enough to the edge that she‘s desperate to be pushed over.
“Ah, ah, Cody,” she says into the curve of his skin, her body quivering, and she lets the movements of his fingers slowly, surely bring her headlong into orgasm. It washes over her like a slow tidal wave, subsuming her, consuming her, and she lets herself grind against his fingers until, at last, she has to reach down to pull his hand away.
He twists his neck until he can press a kiss beneath the delicate curve of her eye, over the deep dark circles that the war carved out. When she stops shaking, he slides a finger back into her, and she huffs a laugh and puts a hand on his wrist to stop his curious, questing movements.
“Slow down, darling,” she says, trying to get her breathing under control. “We have at least another hour before the Council gets antsy.”
He withdraws his hand and leaves it warm and wet on the inside of her thigh.
“More than that,” he tells her, and she looks up at him in curiosity. “We’re under a mandatory comms blackout until we get to Coruscant.”
“What? Why?”
His shrug moves both their bodies. “General Windu sent a recorded message over the emergency comms line before killing the line completely; he wouldn’t even open a live channel to take questions. He told us not to shut down every receiver we have, to smash the ones we couldn’t turn off, and to not take a single incoming call no matter how high a priority.”
Even deep in her post-orgasm glow, Obi-Wan feels her brain kickstart into motion.
“No comms?” she asks, wondering what could possibly be a communication-related danger. They can’t receive any new orders without comms—can’t respond to any new threats—and it seems like a terrible risk to take. “But you said the war is over.”
“Windu said the Sith lord is dead and the Separatists surrendered, but they think the Sith left some sort of victory failsafe in the comms system. There was even a second message from Fox confirming the danger. Something about a chip.”
Cody falls silent, and Obi-Wan knows then and there that, if she went to the bridge right now, she’d see blaster holes in their communication consoles. She knows he and Rex had never been satisfied with the results of the investigation into Tup’s sudden betrayal. This feels like confirmation of an avoided terror.
“I wasn’t going to take the chance, not when it comes to my brothers,” Cody says at last. “And not when it comes to you.”
“Hmm.”
Obi-Wan mulls it over, but there isn’t much she can do. She trusts Mace to make the right call, especially when it’s a hard choice, and she doesn’t want to put her men at risk any more than Cody does. It’s a strange feeling: the war is over, and there’s nothing she can do about it. No comms, no emails, and all of her men safe in the belly of her ship moving at hyperspeed. Even if there were something she needed to do, there’d be no way for her to do it.
Force. Well then. She can worry about the other side of the war when they arrive at the Temple in—
“Cody, we’re a full week out from Coruscant,” she says, startled.
“A week and a day, if we don’t stress the engines.”
She smacks what part of his arm is in easy reach. “Then there’s definitely no hurry. You think I’m going to throw you over in a week?”
“Obi-Wan. A week would never be enough time for all the things I want to do,” Cody says, and a grin leaks into his voice as he continues, pressing each word into the curve where her neck slopes into her shoulder. “A year wouldn’t be enough. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough—a natborn’s lifetime—“
He slides out from underneath her and then rolls on top to kiss her again, the whole long length of his body warm and slick against hers.
She smiles, eyes creasing, when he pulls his head back. The war’s over.
“What else, then,” she whispers. “We’ve got all the time in the universe. Tell me all the things you want to do to me.”
“What wouldn’t I want?” he asks, all dark-eyed and serious, and she pushes at his shoulders until he rolls onto his back and she can climb on top of him. He looks lovely all laid out beneath her, the hills and valleys of his skin firm beneath her questing hands.
“Why, Commander, where’s the renowned creativity that won us the war?” she asks, teasing, and cants her hips until they’re flesh with his. “A week’s a long time. You could fuck me, spank me, tie me up, tie me down, anything. What do you want?”
Embarrassment floods the Force, and Obi-Wan grins as she looks down at Cody’s stoic, perfect poker face. Her negotiator instincts are still well-honed, and Cody, who she knows like the other half of her own soul, never stood a chance at hiding something. It’s one of the reasons they’d had to have that ‘we should wait until after the war’ conversation.
“Oh?” she asks, and he flushes. “Which was it? The spanking?”
His hands fit like rough brands around her waist, and she almost lets herself be distracted. “Not that, but I wouldn’t mind trying it.”
His light-hearted evasion makes her suddenly, painfully curious. She won’t press him if he genuinely doesn’t want to tell her, but…
She moves backwards until she can press her wet cunt to the base of his hardening dick, sliding along the length of it until Cody gasps, his fingers tightening.
“Let me give you what you want,” she says, and she knows that that’s the only thing she wants. “What do you want, Cody?”
His hands shift from her waist to the long curve of her thighs. He says like an afterthought, “Well, to start, I really want to be inside you.”
And she laughs and lifts up onto her knees, hovering over him with an easy strength. She grabs the base of his dick, slides up to the tip, and guides it into her in one quick motion. They both shudder when the head pops in, and she bites her lip at the rapturous intent on Cody’s face as he watches himself disappear into her. He’s big, and wider in the middle, and she bears down as she starts her slow descent. Her breath comes in slow sips as he pushes the air out of her lungs, occupying the very center of her, and her legs are quivering with something that isn’t muscle strain.
“Easy enough,” she whispers when she's flush with his hips, when he’s as deep as he can go. She rocks back and forth in careful, teasing increments, just the barest hint of motion. “What else? Anything. Anything you want.”
“Obi-Wan,” Cody groans, a heady mix of desire and embarrassment, and she’s about to let it drop when he takes a deep breath and looks at her with that awful, terrible bravery that she’s come to love so much.
His voice is deep and sure when he meets her eyes and says, “I want to put a baby in you.”
Obi-Wan chokes in a breath, her body going hot and cold and shivery all over.
That wasn’t—that wasn’t at all what she thought—and she clenches down as she imagines it, imagines Cody coming inside her, filling her up, imagines giving it all the way up for him—claiming her—
“Fuck,” she stutters out, and her hips stutter with her. “Fuck, Cody.”
She’s had an implant since she was fifteen. She knows she can’t actually get pregnant, but the mere thought of it has her mouth dry and her fingers tingling. Cody’s dick feels bigger where it’s buried in her, and she rolls her hips, helplessly trying to get it deeper.
Cody narrows his eyes at her, his nose twitching like a bloodhound that’s caught the scent, and she knows he sees his own desire reflected back at him. He’s always known her better than he knows herself.
He fits his hands around her waist, lifts her up, and then drives himself up into her when he lets her drop down. Obi-Wan drops her head forward as he lights her up inside, and her fingers scrabble against his chest.
Like the words are being punched out of him, he asks, “You like that?”
“Cody,” she pants, lifting herself up and dropping down to meet him, following the urging of his grip on her waist. The tingling has spread down her spine, electric from her fingers to her core, and she can feel blood heating her cheeks.
“Yeah? You like that?” Cody asks, and he slides his hands from her waist to the curve of her ass, digging his fingers into the muscle he finds there, and Obi-Wan moans as he lifts her full bodyweight with the strength in his arms. Every atom of his focus is intent on her, as intent as he is in the middle of the war room while gunning for an impossible victory. All her teasing washes away in the face of that focus. “Want me to knock you up, Obi-Wan? Come inside you, again and again, as many times as it takes?”
She hasn’t been this turned on in years, choking on the images springing to her mind, and she can only barely hold on as Cody continues, "And come in you again and again, just to be sure?"
By the Force, by the stars, by every heaven and hell. Her slick is flowing in easy drips past his dick, down her thighs, dripping and wetter than she’s ever been. Cody’s hands are brands on her ass, squeezing on each thrust as he pulls her up and then back onto him, and she clenches around him with every movement.
Force, he’s so good, this is so good, and every word he says is just driving her higher and higher. She doesn’t know where this is coming from, for her or for him, but Sith hells —Sith kriffing hells—
“Tell me, c’mon,” he says, a thread of hot desperation lacing his voice as he repeats her earlier words. “Obi-Wan, tell me.”
“Yeah,” she gasps, reaching down for him, “yes, please, Cody. Give it to me. I want you to.”
“Fuck,” he says, as if he didn’t think she’d actually say it—and he should know by now what happens when he gives her a challenge, shouldn’t he—
He pulls her off of him and then flips them over, using his grip on her ass to keep her hips lifted up as he drives into her. She curls her legs around his waist and presses her heels into the small of his back until he bends down to kiss her, hot and wet and messy.
“Gonna fill you up,” he says, and she doesn’t know where her usually taciturn commander has found so many words. Perhaps he’s saved all of them up, three years worth of words and wanting, and that just gets her going harder: the idea that he’s wanted this, her like this, for so long. Usually, she’s the one talking everyone in circles, but Cody’s driven all the words from her head besides please .
“Gonna keep you, make you ours like we’re yours,” he continues, “we’ll keep you wet and wanting, never empty again.”
“Yeah, Cody,” she pants, ,and she’s right on the edge all over again. “Please, please.”
She chants it even as wetness gathers along her eyelashes, and she lets herself sink into the fantasy he’s building between them. All of her men, safely ensconced in this ship, carrying her with them through the stars—being held between them, cherished and used and loved—
She keeps one hand on the back of his head and slides the other between them until she can split her finger in a vee around where he’s driving in and out of her. She gasps, grinding up against the heel of her palm, and fire spreads along the full weight of her hips. His words have already got her so close, so close, and she presses down in time with his thrusts, throwing her head back as she chases the edge.
“Wanna watch you round out, grow big with our shinies—keep you safe, soft and glowing. Nothing to do but let us love you,” he says, and she whimpers. “Let us press inside you, fuck you full, over and over.”
“Cody!” she sobs, and he drives into her even harder, hard enough that she can feel all of him in her, and between one thrust and one slide of her palm—between one heartbeat and the next—she tips over the edge. Her core clenches around him, fluttering like a broken speeder engine, and she wails softly as her vision fills with stars for seconds that seep into minutes.
She comes back to him kissing her, his tempo starting to break apart.
“Obi, I’m close,” he says, and she pulls her focus back to the present, wanting so badly to give it to him. “Where—where do you want me to—“
She wraps her hands around the back of his head and pulls him into something more akin to a wet exchange of breaths than a kiss.
“In me,” she breathes out. “Come in me, Cody, please. Didn’t you promise—promise to fill me up?”
He slams into her, carried beyond words at last. His arms are shaking where they’re holding him up. It isn’t long before his tempo breaks apart, breaks faster and harder, and then Cody goes, too, his hips stuttering as he fucks her through his orgasm, driving himself as deep as he can go before collapsing on top of her, his gasps pressing into her chest.
His is a welcome weight. She runs her fingernails through his curls, over his back, and waits for him to come back to her. Satisfaction settles into her bones; it curls up like a cat in her ribcage, purring out contentment.
After another minute, Cody gets his arms beneath him and tries to lift himself up, but she just crosses her ankles over the small of his back to hold him in place—and in her.
With an amused sigh, he drops back down before turning to press the sides of their foreheads together again.
“Fuck,” he says.
“Fuck,” she agrees peaceably, and when he laughs, she feels it shake through her whole body.
After another few minutes pass, he murmurs, “Alright, c’mon, don’t let me crush you.”
They both wince in momentary discomfort when he pulls out, but then he gets his arms under her and rolls them until she’s on top, still pressed together. She tucks her head beneath his chin and closes her eyes while her heart rate finally starts to drop.
His hands trace soothing patterns up and down her bare back, over the curve of her ass and down her flank. It doesn’t feel sexual; it feels like he’s reaffirming that she’s here, alive and well, and curled happily on his chest. They stay there for a soupy mess of minutes, each one hazy and poorly delineated. Their skin is still hot and sticking together, even in the cold air of a starship, but Obi-Wan can’t bring herself to move. She dozes a little, still catching up on sleep, but his hands never stop their easy, peaceful tracks.
“A week,” he marvels, breaking the silence and Obi-Wan’s doze at last. It still sounds like an impossible length of time. “I get a week with you.”
She props herself up on one elbow so that she can see his face. A smile sneaks over her lips, and she traces her fingers over the planes of his face, over his cheeks, over the curl of his scar. Suddenly serious, she cups his cheek
“A little more than that, if you’ll have me,” she says.
He brings one hand up to hold her hand to his cheek. With all the reverence of a knight swearing fealty, he turns his head into the lingering curve of her hand to press a kiss to the very center of her palm.
“I’ll take as much of you as you are able to give,” he says, and she can hear the steady acknowledgement of their shared and separate duties in his sincerity.
“Cody…” she says, lacing their fingers together.
A terrible tenderness prickles the corners of her eyes at the thought of this last blessing laid so gently on her shoulders. Her furthest dreams had sometimes included someone she loved who also loved her; she never imagined she might find someone who loved her duty as well as she does, who could accept it as a given.
Still, his acceptance is genuine, but she can’t help but wonder how much he wants from this new life beyond the war. How many of his earlier words had been genuine instead of a turn-on? Does he want a family? She doesn’t know what she wants, but she knows she never wants to be the albatross around his neck, dragging him beneath the waves she chose.
She swallows. “Cody, thank you. But I might not be able to give you very much, not to start. Maybe not ever.”
“I know.”
“And,” she hesitates. She’s pretty sure he knows, but, “You know I have an implant, right?’
His eyes sparkle in the dim light of her cabin, and he raises an eyebrow. “I’m your medical proxy, Obi-Wan. I’ve read your chart almost as often as Bones has. Yes, I know that, too.”
He strokes his hands up her back, over the slope of her shoulders, and then runs his hands through the short curling waves of her hair. The calloused pads of his fingers brush against her temple as he tucks one wild strand of it behind her ear.
“But you know, I’ve trained with the Cuy’val Dar. I’ve learned how to wage war, and now I’ve won one. And you know what lesson I kept learning, again and again?”
She glances at him, curious. “What?”
He rolls them over with a quick flex of his arms, until he's leaning over her, and he presses her legs back open with his thighs. When he drives back into her in one smooth press, she chokes out a soft cry of delight.
“You gotta practice anything you ever want to execute in the field,” he says, and then he bends down to kiss the laugh right out of her mouth.