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Jyn stalked back and forth over the long balcony, glaring out over the ecumenopolis. The everlasting wind whipped her hair into her eyes, and she shoved it clear with a grunt. Fucking Coruscant. It was the last place she wanted to be, and she was stuck here for the foreseeable future.
She'd bounced all over the galaxy for years - with her parents, with Saw, on her own. She'd even been here for a short time, though she didn't remember it. She'd fallen in with the Alliance at eighteen for three squares and new boots, and Alderaan had unexpectedly become her home.
And now she'd been exiled.
No, that wasn't true. Be honest, Erso.
She'd asked for this assignment. Personal bodyguard to Princess Leia Organa as she journeyed to Coruscant to cement the tentative treaty between the Empire and the Alliance. Lord Vader's son had gone to Alderaan in Leia's place. Hostages for peace, which stretched tight as a garotte between them.
Jyn looked out over the planetary city, all hard surfaces and metallic lines, like a land of knives. A month here hadn't completely quelled her anxiety for Leia's life - she wouldn't come down off high alert until they were burning atmo away from this place - but there were times of day when she couldn't be with her.
She tried to suppress the whisper at the back of her skull that the idea was for Leia Organa, and Jyn with her, to live the rest of her life in this place.
One way or another.
"We're supposed to be sneaking off to have sex," said a voice in her ear. "Try to look a little more enthusiastic at the prospect."
Without looking over, Jyn made a gesture indicating that the speaker could go ahead and have sex with himself. It was blocked by her body so that nobody but them could see it.
"Charming," he said. "Shall we?"
She turned, scowling, to face the man in the plain grey pants and tunic of an off-duty Imperial honor guard. He raised one eyebrow.
She wanted to punch him.
Cassian Andor. Alliance Intelligence agent, planted here on Coruscant for years under the name Joreth Sward, working his way up to an honor guard on the highest levels. He was positioned to take out half the Imperial court if he got the order.
(Peace. Right. That was what they were here for. Peace.)
He hadn't been happy that she'd come along with Leia, but they were making it work. She and Leia were both hearing scraps of things that even an honor guard might not. And an agent like him had ways of getting and sending intelligence that a peace hostage (or her bodyguard) didn't.
They met a few times a week, under the cover story that they'd laid eyes on each other and been overcome with lust. It actually made a certain amount of sense, which was another reason she hated the whole idea.
Nobody on Alderaan would have believed it. Of course, she wasn't on Alderaan, now was she?
There were cameras and patrols and all manner of eyes watching them, even though this was supposedly a private spot, so she leaned into the long line of his body and purred in his ear, "One of these days I'm going to fucking bite you."
"If you feel you must," he said, running his hand up her back. The way he always touched her where they could be seen, possessive but oddly respectful. Shoulder blades to lower back, then back again, featherlight. Under two layers of cloth, her spine hummed like a plucked string.
If only he would try something. Grabbing her tits. Palming her ass.
So she could kick him in the balls, of course.
They strolled along the edge of the balcony, heads together, arms linked, trading intel back and forth. She interspersed thoughts of violence with telling herself not to notice how well they fell in step. He'd been an honor guard for years. He could probably keep pace with anybody.
"I don't like the lack of data from Alderaan," she said, frowning.
"You and me both," he said. "We know he got there all right." Proof of life, exchanged at the banquet the Emperor had thrown Leia's first night there. Nothing since then.
"No news is good news?"
He grunted his opinion of that.
Lord Vader's son was, by Cassian's own account, something of a disappointment to the Emperor. How Lord Vader himself felt about him was more of a mystery.
"Does he actually feel anything?" Jyn asked. "Or did they replace that with wiring too?"
"He has kept the kid with him all these years."
The kid was about Leia's age, more or less, Jyn reflected. It was a long time to put up with a disappointment.
Cassian thought it was only a matter of time until an Imperial assassin snuck onto Alderaan and dispatched the kid, breaking the treaty. "Lord Vader's reaction will be very interesting," he murmured.
Jyn couldn't care less about Lord Vader; her concern in that case would be making sure Leia made it off the planet alive.
Cassian tugged her arm, and they paused in a corner that was handily blocked from both the cameras and the fucking wind. She perched in a divot in the decorative railing, the indentation of the design just wide enough to cradle her ass. Stone at her back, in between her and a fall miles down. Supposedly, there were force fields underneath the balconies that could catch you and hold you if you happened to fall. But Jyn had no doubt that they had an off-switch, one that properly placed Imperials knew exactly how to work.
Cassian at her front, their eyes now almost level. His hands were decorously propped on the stone, but still close enough to stand between her knees. It was a sleight of body, meant to fool any onlookers.
It was a little too close to fooling her, sometimes.
They traded more tidbits, heads together like they were murmuring sweet nothings.
Without changing expression or tone of voice, he said, "Patrol," giving her just enough warning before sliding his arms around her waist.
The first few times, she'd had to work not to jolt away from him, to instead put her arms around his neck in return. Now it was far too easy.
"He's out of pattern," she murmured. They both knew the patrol patterns intimately, and the various blind spots of the cameras. That was why this was their meeting place.
He nosed along her cheek, breath soft on her skin. "I know. Tell me when he's gone."
She tipped her head back, stealing a glance through her lashes. "He's coming this way."
He muttered a curse.
"Go on," she said, and he leaned down to nuzzle into her neck. His beard scratched lightly at her skin, and her nipples went tight.
Fuck. How unbelievably inconvenient.
The off-pattern guard was still several meters away when he called out, "Hey. Sward. Your commander know you're here?"
Cassian lifted his head only slightly, hands roaming Jyn's back. "I'm off-duty," he growled.
"Yeah, I see that. Hey, rebel scum, if you like Imperial dick that much, I'm off-duty in an hour."
Cassian's hand clenched at her waist, a silent warning that Jyn ignored. She lifted her head and curled her lip, running her hand down Cassian's spine to caress his ass. "This dick's enough for me, thanks."
"Slut," the guard said.
"Take a long walk in that direction," she told him, hooking her thumb over her shoulder at the miles-deep drop.
He called her another name that she didn't know, but had Cassian growling low. "Fuck off," he said. "Or I'll see to it you're only patrolling the underside of the latrines."
The guard sneered one last time, but veered away
She looked away from his back to Cassian, who was studying her with folded-up eyebrows. "Do they give you trouble?" he said abruptly.
"The guards? Of course they do. I'm fucking one of them. They want to try their luck."
He frowned more deeply.
"Don't give me that look. You knew what they'd think of me when you made the suggestion, and so did I. And you'd do it again."
His mouth pressed together but he couldn't deny that. Their shared mission - Leia, the Alliance, peace, victory - came first.
"I'm handling it," she concluded. "Although you could back off on the locker-room talk, if you're that worried about my reputation."
"I don't tell them anything."
"That leer didn't come from nowhere."
"Trust me, nothing quite so horny as a lonely man's imagination. I don't have to say anything. In fact, I could deny it until I was blue in the face and they'd be making up ever-more lewd scenarios for us."
She twisted her mouth. "Do you deny it?"
He shrugged a little. Up close like this, he smelled so good, she wanted to lick his neck. Or bite it.
"I don't think you do," she said.
'What do you think I say?"
"I think the first time we met up, you went back and spun them a whole tale of how you got in my pants."
"In your pants," he said. "Really? That fast."
"Did you?"
"I think the real question is, would you give it up that easily?"
"Give it up," she said scornfully. "Maybe I was just concerned about getting off as efficiently as possible. Not everybody's a romantic."
"You keep coming back," he pointed out. "Clearly you like it."
"I still haven't heard what I'm meant to be liking."
"Maybe you like my kisses."
She couldn't stop herself. She looked at his mouth. She jerked her gaze back up, willing herself not to flush.
His eyes were already dark, but usually they were cold and unreadable. Now there was a spark of heat in them. He held her gaze for a moment, and then as if he couldn't help himself, they flickered down -
As if he were looking at her mouth, too.
She caught her breath.
His head dipped, and without meaning to, she let her eyes slide closed.
But his mouth didn't cover hers. Just the whisper of his breath over her cheek. Then a faint rustle of cloth.
She opened her eyes to see him straightened up, as far as he could be without actually stepping away from her.
It stung, and she curled her lip. "Really?" she said, as if the prior thirty seconds hadn't happened. "I'm coming back just for kisses?"
"To start."
"Well, you'd better be following it up. I'm clearly not wanting for options."
He shifted his hand a few inches up, settling it against her side. "After I kiss you, then I'd want to touch you."
She liked it. The warmth; the weight. She hated that she liked it. "There?"
"To start." His hand flexed.
"Over the shirt?" she mocked. "Maybe when I was twelve."
His eyes flashed at her for a moment, then shuttered. He ran his hand down to the hem of her shirt and slid his fingertips under. She felt her belly quiver. "Over first. Then under."
A hum escaped her throat, and she found herself shifting into his touch.
His hand flexed again, fingertips dragging along her waistband. His mouth curved. "You like when someone touches you there."
"Depends on how they're touching me," she volleyed back, fighting off the urge to bite him again. "And where else they go. Where are you going? Mmm?"
"Up," he said, but didn't. "To feel the curve of your breast against my fingertips."
She shivered.
His voice dropped lower. "Into your bra."
His hand was still heavy against her ribs. If she grabbed his wrist, would he touch her the way he was narrating?
"To feel your nipple go tight against the palm of my hand."
The sound that escaped her was raw and needy, and she flushed with humiliation. But when she lifted her eyes to his, she didn't see triumph. Instead, she saw a raw, needy expression with just a tinge of embarrassment, too.
Whatever game they'd been playing, it had changed. Neither of them were in control of it anymore.
"You - " she managed. "You're sort of an exhibitionist. Feeling me up out in the open like this."
"You're not stopping me."
Her breasts felt as hot and tight as if his hands really were cupping them, rough and warm, thumbs working her nipples.
His hand slipped away from her stomach and she let out a tiny, disappointed mewl. It settled on her knee, and now her blood beat slow and syrupy between her legs.
"I want to touch you," he said.
"You've already fondled my tits," she pointed out.
"Is that enough for you?"
"Depends where else you're going."
"Between your legs."
She sucked in her breath. "I wouldn't mind that."
His thumb settled in the soft inside of her knee. If she wasn't wearing trousers, the circles he traced would be sending sparks directly to her core. "That's a little tepid."
"You won't be saying that when you get your hands in my underwear."
Inhale. Exhale. "Are you wet?"
She had to shut her eyes. Was he asking in their little fantasy what-if scenario? Or was he asking about her, right now, inches away from his fingers?
Either way - "Yes," she whispered.
His breath hitched. "So when I undo your pants, take down the zipper, put my hand in your underwear - "
She rocked her hips into the hardness of the stone railing for the pressure, since she wasn't getting it from his fingers. "How does it feel?"
There was nobody around. The off-pattern guard was long gone. But he still leaned into her ear and whispered, "Scorching."
A whimper escaped.
"One finger?" he asked, still less than an inch away from her ear. His breath stirred her hair.
"Two," she said, and squeezed her thighs together. "And your thumb."
"Definitely my thumb." His words were breathless. The fingers and thumb clenched her knee as if he was trying to stop himself from moving them higher. "On your clit."
She could almost feel it. Almost. "Are you going to curl your fingers? Inside me?"
"I can," he said. "Does that make you wetter?"
She nodded. If she lowered her face, she could press her mouth to the pulse that thudded in his neck.
"I love that feeling," he said softly. "A woman so close to the edge that my palm is full of her, dripping down my wrist."
Another mental picture for later, when she thought of this in her bed. His hands on her stomach and her knee, his words soft and filthy.
"Yes," she whimpered. "Yes. Fuck. Yes."
His breath was heavy against her ear.
She turned her mouth to his. "And when I come," she whispered, "what will you do then?"
He made a nose in his throat like a groan, cut off and muffled.
He lifted his hand and held it between them a moment, and they both looked. Although she was still fully dressed and throbbing with frustrated desire, Jyn half expected to see it wet and gleaming.
"Lick it clean," he answered her finally. "Fill my mouth with your taste."
Oh, fuck.
He put his hand to her cheek. His fingers were dry. He hadn't touched, hadn't licked. She was still a quivering mess.
But his eyes were blown wide. He wasn't unaffected.
He ran his thumb over her cheek, his eyes fixed on hers. She licked her lips and was rewarded with his hard inhale.
"Don't forget about how hard you are, once you've gotten me off," she said.
His throat moved in a heavy swallow. "Trust me, I don't."
She put her hand on the front of his hip, and felt him shift into her touch.
The plain off-duty tunic fell to his upper thigh. She ran her hand down it, slipped under, back up, still feeling fabric under her palm.
There was a strain to the weave that made her think he was fully hard behind it. If she slid her hand over a few inches, would she feel him, thick and hot through the cloth?
Just from telling her what he wanted to do. He hadn't even touched bare skin. Her pussy, still slick and frustrated, clenched at the thought.
His voice was sandpaper-rough. "What will you do?" His fingertips combed through the loose hair behind her ear, leaving sparks of sensation behind.
She ran her thumb over his waistband. Her thumbnail caught a sliver of skin and she felt the muscles of his stomach quiver. "I think," she said thoughtfully. "I think I want you in my mouth."
His breath hitched. "Out here?"
"You just fucked me with your fingers," she pointed out. "Turnabout is fair play. Besides, aren't we in a blind spot?"
"Only temporarily."
"You're saying you don't want me on my knees for you?"
"No," he said. "I'm not saying that."
She smiled at him and turned her cheek into his palm. "So," she said softly. "I'm on my knees. Undoing your pants. Taking out your cock. Are you pretty hard yet?"
He made a soft noise that seemed to indicate he was well past "pretty hard" and into blue-ball territory.
She smiled wider and impulsively pressed her mouth to the base of his thumb.
The sound he made was borderline obscene.
"I like to play a little," she told him, licking her way lightly up his thumb to the tip. "See what makes you whimper."
His breath was shallow and hot between them. She thought about moving her hand over from his hip. Feeling his length, his heat. But he'd been so scrupulous with his hands. She was going to follow the rules of the game, at least if it would string him out the way he had for her.
She put out her tongue and swirled it around the tip of his thumb. "D'you like that?"
He nodded, short and frantic.
The pad of his thumb circled her mouth. Rough. A little salty to the taste. Like hers had caught on his belly, his thumbnail caught at her lip.
"But I don't know, maybe you're the type who wants to be fucking my throat." She opened her mouth and sucked his thumb in to the base.
He moaned.
She suckled hard, dragging her head back, flattening her tongue up the length of the digit. He tried to keep his thumb in her mouth, but she caught his wrist with her free hand and smirked at him. She was in charge of this quasi-blowjob, after all. He'd had his fun already.
"Something tells me you're a nice boy," she said, swirling her tongue around the tip again.
"Not - not sure where you got that from," he rasped.
From the way he warned her before he pulled her into his arms, the way he was careful to keep his hand on her knee and her stomach even as he wove tales of touching her elsewhere. Even the way he didn't like other guards leering at her because of a cover he'd come up with.
"I think you are," she said softly. "I think you're the kind of nice boy who'll give me fair warning when you're about to come in my mouth."
His breath jolted.
"Are you?"
"Yes," he breathed out.
"That's what I thought." She sucked hard on his thumb again, and thought of his cock swelling in her mouth, flooding her tongue with the bitter taste. She swallowed so he could feel it.
His fingers clenched against her cheek.
Then, as if he was forcing them, they relaxed. He pulled his hand free. Brushed her hair back again.
He dropped his hand.
His thumb had left a streak of her own spit on her jaw. A finger of the everlasting wind whipping through the skyscrapers of Coruscant chilled it. She lifted her hand and wiped it away.
Far overhead, a massive clock tower droned out the time, alerting the sector to another hour of the Glorious Empire come and gone.
"I should - " she said.
"Yes," he said.
"Are you on duty for the banquet tonight?"
He nodded.
"Right," she said.
He stepped back.
The wind snuck into the space between them, drinking away all the warmth and playfulness. He was her partner, but only in the coldest and most businesslike sense of the word.
She pushed herself off the railing, hopped down, and circled around him, fighting not to squeeze her thighs together as she did. For the moment she didn't care how odd it would look that she was walking away from her lover like this. She just wanted to get away.
Get away and curl up somewhere quiet and close and safe, and think of him touching her again.
Cassian watched the far-away traffic patterns until the door to the far end of the balcony hissed open, then closed again.
Breathe, in two three. Out two three four.
The wind should be chilling his blood back from the boiling point that they'd both teased it to. He had the feeling he could strip naked and stand here for an hour, and he would still be hard enough to dent duracrete.
He adjusted himself until he could walk without too much discomfort, and took the shortest route back through the palace to his barracks. The sonic booths were the only modicum of privacy they got. He most often used it for cover to record intelligence for a dead drop.
But this time he acted like all the other guards and stripped down to skin, dropping his off-duty uniform on the floor before grasping his aching cock.
Jyn's half-lidded gaze and parted lips as he told her all the things he wanted to do to her.
The feel of her strong thigh shifting under his hand, the muscles tensing as she pressed them together.
Her hot mouth closing around his thumb.
The slick stroke of her tongue.
The sound of her voice, asking if he would warn her before he came in her mouth.
The tension at the base of his spine snapped like a rubber band. With a throttled grunt, he came in three hard jolts that yanked his breath right out of his lungs.
He rested his forehead on the cheap plastic wall, catching his breath while the last few drops drained from his cock, and the ropes of cum splattered on the wall began to trickle toward the floor.
Then he switched on the sonic to get rid of the mess, and of all the sweat and dirt that had collected on his body.
While the sound waves buzzed over his skin, he tipped his head back and wondered.
Was Jyn doing something like this, in her quarters, with his voice in her head? Touching her breasts, stroking her nipples, playing her hand between her legs?
A shudder rolled through him.
Whether she was or not, it was none of his business. They were unlikely partners. Their priority was - had to be - the Alliance, and this tense, temporary peace, and how soon it would shatter.
They'd crossed a line today. He could ease back over it, and he was sure she could, too.
But the next time they met, would they cross it again?
The sonic, on a timer, snapped off.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. It was just the cover, he tried to tell himself. A sexually charged situation, for two people who were far from home and safety. It happened all the time. Even if he hadn't come up with this particular cover, he still might be fantasizing about her in the sonic.
But he might not know the way she looked when she was aroused.
Fuck. Jerking off was supposed to clear his head of that particular picture. Instead it seemed to have engraved it.
He reached for a scrubber, to get off particularly stubborn stains, and roughly scraped it over his skin until his heartbeat had steadied out and he wasn't thinking about the soft noises she'd made anymore. Another quick pass with the sonic, and he donned his cleansed off-duties again and went into the barracks.
"Sward," said another of the guards, relaxing on his bunk. "How's that rebel pussy?"
Cassian settled himself into his own bunk and said what he said every time: "None of your business."
FINIS