Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): Also my ideal date is going to one of those public strawberry picking fields where you can just... walk around and fill your basked with strawberries, and afterwards go home and bake strawberry cake, and I'm going to drop that in this context.
Blackout had never eaten a strawberry in his life. Had never so much as seen that kind of fruit. As soon as you had discovered that, you'd set out on a mission to rectify it right away.
"I don't see what the big fuss is," he commented in the seat next to you. You were cruising down the highway, grateful that he had some days off so soon after your last holo-chat. Perfect timing for the plan you had. "What, are they like some magical food that cures all ailments and reveals the wisdom of the universe?"
He was laughing, while you were taking this mission very seriously.
"They're strawberries," you said, not really helping him understand but not sure how else to put it. "How do you not know what they taste like? Haven't you ever had anything strawberry flavored?"
He gave a playful frown.
"No strawberry ice cream?
He shook his head.
"Strawberry flavored medicine?"
"Medicine is flavored?" Now his frown was real as he mulled that one over.
You huffed in disbelief. "They're a very common fruit on a lot of planets. I don't get how you've never even heard the word before."
"I'm a clone, sweetheart," he laughed again. "My life's been ten years of MREs, veggie caps, and canned beans."
"Veggie caps?" you asked, scrunching your nose.
"Trust me, you don't want to know. Point is, it's not exactly fine dining in the army."
You just shook your head, muttering under your breath, "they're strawberries," one more time before hitting the gas just a little more in anticipation of your destination.
Soon enough, you were pulling into the designated lot. A little market stood off to the left with visitor signs on how to proceed. The rest of the surrounding view was nothing but row upon row of strawberry vines.
Blackout didn't seem to notice the impressive view just yet, too focused on trying to run around to open your door before you could. He was always insisting on helping you get out, even if you were the one that drove.
"Isn't it gorgeous?" you said in awe, still holding onto his hand even after you were out. Blackout turned to face the same direction you were, giving an approving nod.
"Well, where do we start?"
You went through the little market building to collect your baskets and pamphlets with instructions and notes on picking etiquette. The market also had straw hats for sale, which you of course convinced Blackout to buy for the two of you to wear.
From there, you were practically skipping through the rows, hand-in-hand with Blackout as you scoped out which spot you wanted to start your strawberry picking journey. You'd never done this before; it had always been a secret wish of yours to try one day, especially once you'd found yourself a partner to share the moment with. Though your relationship with Blackout was relatively new, you still felt comfortable enough with him to bring him along.
"How about... here?" you finally stopped in the middle of a vine that seemed to have some good, ripe berries. Blackout shrugged, trusting your call.
You leaned over a vine and twisted off a good-sized strawberry, and then ceremoniously presented it to your man.
"Open wide!"
He raised an eyebrow at the sight. "That's it? You can just eat it like that?"
You nodded enthusiastically. He still seemed suspicious.
"You're not messing with me?"
"Why would I do that? Now stop lollygagging and just take a bite!
Blackout shrugged again. "Yes, ma'am."
He took the whole thing into his mouth, right out of your fingers, and you gave a little laughing gasp.
"What?" he said through his munching.
"You're not supposed to eat the stem!"
"I knew you were messing with me..."
"I told you, take a bite," you laughed.
He moved his mouth around a bit, finally getting the leafy green stem between his teeth and then swallowing the rest. You rocked on your feet in anticipation.
"Well?"
He tried shrugging again, but you saw the playful smirk on his face as he spat the stem into the dirt.
"Good, right?" you pressed.
"Yeah..." he relented a little, making you laugh again.
Time passed pleasantly by from there. You both moved along the row, just a few feet apart, inspecting it for any strawberry that looked just-right. You'd pinch it off its vine and plop it into your little baskets, and keep moving along. Occasionally you'd chat about random thoughts that popped into your mind... a memory from your childhood, a new fun fact you'd just read about on the holonet... Blackout would nod or chuckle along appropriately, but otherwise stayed silent. You knew he liked to focus on the task at hand and didn't feel bothered by you supplying most of the conversation. You were just glad he'd agreed to tag along.
After a while, you looked over and noticed the tips of Blackout's fingers were stained red. You giggled. "Looks like you got some blood on your hands, soldier."
Blackout immediately stiffened. He glanced over at you, seemingly perplexed at your joke, before looking down at his hands to see what you'd meant.
"Oh."
It was like a dark shadow had crossed over his face as he clenched and unclenched his hands, and then quickly wiped them against his pants. He finally looked back at you and gave a sort of apologetic smirk before returning back to his basket.
You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath as you watched him. You knew there were parts of his life he hadn't shared with you yet, and perhaps never would. He'd told you in the beginning, when you'd first started making confessions and commitments, that he was a soldier, not a hero. You thought you'd understood what he meant, but every once in a while he'd give you signs, much like this one, that there was so much more to his story, buried deep within. You wouldn't pry into it, not now. But you hoped someday he might let you have a little peek. Just to see. Just to understand.
"Well, I think I'm about done," you quickly tried to break through the tension you'd unintentionally created. You brought up your basket for him to see just how many strawberries you'd collected by now.
"Wait, how'd you get so many?" he reeled. He held up his basket in comparison, which wasn't even half as full as yours.
"What have you been doing this whole time?" you laughed.
"I was only picking the really good ones!"
He seemed to be back in better spirits so you shook your head in amusement and threw your arms around his neck.
"Well, I'm still proud of you," you teased.
He pretended to be miffed but was already taking off your sunhat and bringing your head to rest against his chest. He rocked back and forth with you playfully. The warm afternoon sun was starting to beat down, a few wisps of wind providing some relief. Combined with the fresh farm smells and the soreness in your hands from a good day's worth of work, you were feeling more and more at peace by the second.
"Blackout..." you hummed, trying to keep your timidness as bay. "This was a nice date, right?"
He pulled your shoulders back so he could get a good look at you.
"Every date is nice with you."
You blushed a bit at that.
"And..." he continued, sighing dramatically, back to teasing already. "Yeah, I guess this date specifically was fun, even though I lost..."
"Lost? It's not a competition." You rolled your eyes and swatted at him.
"Sure, whatever you say."
"Blackout!"
He let you go so he could raise his hands in mock defense. "Leave it to a winner to say winning doesn't matter."
You crossed your arms and just shook your head at him.
"Anyway, we done? Can I go take a nap now?" Blackout tossed you your hat and picked up both baskets eagerly.
"Oh no, mister. This date isn't over yet."
"No?"
"Nope. What do you think I'm going to do with all these strawberries?"
He shrugged. "Heck do I know. Flavor your medicine with them?"
You didn't even react to that joke. You walked up and took the baskets out of his grasp. "Time to teach you how to bake!" you said before turning on your heels and marching confidently back to the market to pay.
Blackout just chuckled to himself, watching as you walked for a bit before finally following. You were driving him crazy, you and all your cuteness. At this rate, he may just end up falling in love. Wouldn't that be a crazy thought?
Summary: As a requisitions officer in the GAR, things can be boring sometimes. That is until you happen to meet a certain handsome clone commander who asks for your help repainting his helmet.
Word Count: 3.6k
Rating/Warnings: T, Most of this is just flirting, but things get a little spicy at the end.
A/N: This fic is actually based off of this artwork of Commander Blackout by @cacodaemonia.
[Edit - I wrote this fic when I was still relatively new to the fandom, and as such, did not realize that this artist supports cl*necest. I want to make it clear that I do not support that at all and removed any comments promoting their other artwork. It felt wrong to remove credit for this fic entirely, as this fic is based on it, so I will leave up the credit with a warning to my readers]
Also, it’s one of my headcanons that the clones know about memes, but only really old ones since it takes a while for them to filter down to them. It’s like talking to your grandpa whose only meme knowledge is from Facebook. (Would the clones like the minion memes? Who knows)
Mando’a Translations:
vod’ika - little sibling (affectionate)
di’kut - idiot
~~~
You sighed as you leaned on the counter to rest your chin in your hand. You glanced first to the right and then the left, hoping to find anything other than the same boring grey walls staring back at you as they had been for the past five hours. Unsurprisingly you found nothing new. A piece of hair flopped between your eyes and you tried to blow it away, only for it to flop back down after a few moments. You threw your head back and groaned.
You were so bored.
For whatever reason, your bosses decided to put you on a double shift even though it was usually dead at this time of day. Most of the clone troopers were either asleep, on lunch break, or just starting shifts of their own, so there was not a lot for you to be doing.
You were a requisitions officer attached to the 212th Attack Battalion, a job which normally tended to be fun… or at the very least fulfilling. If you asked yourself a year ago what you would have been doing now, joining the military wouldn’t have even cracked the top ten, but it was funny how life worked out. This time last year you were a fresh graduate from one of Coruscant’s top art schools. Unluckily for you, with the war kicking off, there was not much demand for graphic design and you struggled to find a job. You’d stumbled across a freelance job with the GAR designing posters to drum up support for the war effort. Your friends had teased you for becoming a sellout, but you’d been so low on money that you ended up taking the job anyway. The job paid well and you started doing work for them on a semi-regular basis. You still wanted to have a bit more financial security so when they posted an opening for a requisitions officer you jumped on it despite not having much relevant experience. Apparently they’d been as desperate as you since they hired you within 24 hours.
As a requisitions officer, you were in charge of keeping the ship’s inventory stocked as well as procuring specific items for officers upon request. Most of the time that meant simply booting up the holonet and placing an order, but sometimes you got really strange requests. Like the one time General Kenobi tasked you with tracking down a rare blend of tea only found on the planet Gatalenta. It seemed like a big waste of time and money (not that you were opposed to wasting the government’s time and money) until he’d explained that it was known for its relaxing effects and he wanted to give it to Commander Cody. You’d seen for yourself just how stressed the commander was, everyone giving him a wide berth as he marched rigidly down the hallways. It had taken many calls and you’d even had to hop on a shuttle to meet with the supplier, but you’d been able to procure the tea for him, and you’d been happy to see the ommander seemed much more chill in the days following.
Focusing back on the present, you busied yourself by shuffling things around on the counter. Eventually you got bored of shifting pieces of flimsy around and started to fold one into an origami frog. At least it was something to keep your mind off of how hungry you were. Right now was normally the time you’d be eating lunch, but you had at least two hours until your shift was over. You’d meant to bring a snack to tide you over but had forgotten it in your room this morning. As if on cue, your stomach growled loudly. You groaned.
This was torture!
The Maker themself must have taken pity on you, because right then two clone troopers rounded the corner and made a beeline to your counter. You grabbed your origami frog and tried to hide it before they could see, but you were too slow.
“Working hard, I see,” One of the troopers teased as he poked at the frog in your hands. His helmet was grey with white markings, the most distinctive of them a white sunburst painted on the forehead. It was distinctive enough that you knew immediately who was under there. After all, you helped him come up with the design.
“It’s hard to work when there is no work to be done, Spark,” You sighed as you showed him where to press down to make the origami frog hop. He let out an awed noise as it jumped across the counter and you shoved it into his hands. “Keep it. It’s a bribe so you don’t rat me out for slacking off on the job.”
“Can you show me how to make them? That way I can make a whole army of little frogs.” Spark asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“The clankers won’t stand a chance.” You replied with a laugh that he joined in on. The other trooper behind him cleared his throat. You didn’t recognize this one, though you couldn’t be blamed for that. Any design previously on it had either been rubbed away or covered by the mess of scratches and carbon scoring across the surface. He must have been in a pretty gnarly accident.
“Oh yeah,” Spark straightened up, “We actually came here with a bribe for you.” The other clone trooper pulled a plate piled high with food taken from the caf. You practically drooled at the sight. “I know you’re working a double shift today and won’t get to eat for a whi-”
He was cut off as your greedy hands tried to snatch the plate from him. He managed to pull the plate out of your reach without spilling anything and tsked at you. “Now, now. You don’t get the bribe until you agree to our terms.”
He waggled a finger at you as if he was a parent scolding a child and you made a face at him. “You sound very familiar with the ins and outs of how bribes work. Too familiar.”
The two troopers in front of you shared a glance between them that confirmed everything you needed to know. “Well we are spec ops… it comes with the territory.” Spark said with a chuckle. He must have caught the way you opened your mouth to ask for more details since he continued, “Sorry, all classified information.”
“Hmph, you’re no fun.” You crossed your arms and spun around in the swivel chair you were sitting in before planting both palms down on the table and fixing them both with a serious look. “Okay, lay out your terms. And introduce me to your friend, too.”
Spark looked over his shoulder at his companion. “Oh right, sorry. I just thought you’d met before. This is Blackout, my commander.” He put an emphasis on the word commander as if to silently warn you not to say anything that would get him in trouble. Spark was the newest member of the spec ops team attached to the 212th, only having joined a month after your first day. Both being newbies, or shinies as the troopers liked to say, the two of you gravitated towards each other and became fast friends, often eating meals together when your schedules allowed. Spark had mentioned his commander in passing, but had never gone into much detail. From what he said though, you could tell he had a lot of respect for his commanding officer and was constantly working to impress him.
“Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot of stories about you.” Blackout greeted you, extending his hand out to shake. You were (pleasantly) surprised at how firm his grip was. It wasn’t painful by any means, just strong and purposeful. It must be a commander thing. You’d shaken Cody’s hand once when you were being shown around the ship and it had felt similar. You found yourself wondering if all the commanders had to take classes on proper handshake techniques back on Kamino.
“Oh, have you? Hopefully all good ones.” You flicked your eyes over to Spark, who looked like he was regretting introducing the two of you.
“Only the best. The boys were all asking him about the new paint job on his bucket and he said that you helped him with it. My bucket, well...” He motioned down to where his helmet rested between his arm and his hip, “It’s seen some better days. I was hoping you could help me repaint it.” He flashed a grin at you that made your heart flutter. Stupid sexy troopers. You silently thanked the Kaminoans for choosing such a sexy template for their army.
“And the bribe is for?” You questioned, inwardly thanking your voice for keeping steady despite the butterflies in your stomach (though those might have been from hunger).
“So you can let him use the non-standard issue colors too!” Spark added excitedly as he waved the plate of food in front of you once more.
“Deal.” You agreed without even mulling it over, your stomach doing all the thinking for you. He placed the plate in front of you and you immediately shoved a dinner roll in your mouth. As you were chewing, you pushed off from the counter and rolled over to where you kept the paint swatches. You’d taken the time to paint little pieces of plastoid with all of the available colors so the troopers could see how they would look when dried. With that in hand, you wheeled yourself back to Spark and Blackout and gave it to them. “Here are all the colors we have. Let me know which ones you want and I can grab the bottles for you.” Blackout took it from you and you tried not to think of the way his fingertips brushed against yours, instead busying yourself with stuffing your face with food while the two men discussed what colors to pick.
Procuring the paint that the troopers used to customize your armor was one of your duties as requisitions officer, and one of your favorites as well. You’d learned early on that earning the right to paint one’s armor with their unit’s colors was a right of passage for the men. Nothing brought a smile to your face more than handing a former shiny a can of paint as all of his brothers stood around him, patting him on the back and asking him how he was planning on painting his armor. Sometimes you would offer up design ideas or coach them on the best techniques to make the paint look neat and smooth. At one point you had even suggested a new brand of paint that would adhere to the plastoid of their armor better. And your mom said your art degree was useless. Ha!
Since you were attached to the 212th, most of the paint you handed out was the standard orange, but you also kept stocks of other colors available as well. Some of the regular troopers liked using other colors as accents and there were many specialized units aboard the Negotiator. Pilots, clone commandos, and the spec ops troopers liked to get very creative with the colors and designs of their armor. Honestly, you’d always thrown around the idea of taking photos of all the different helmets you saw and creating some sort of collection, maybe even putting it in an art gallery at some fancy fundraising party or something.
You shoved the last piece of cafeteria slop in your mouth before flicking your eyes up to Spark and Blackout. “Have we made any decisions?”
Blackout made a noncommittal sound as he shifted on his feet, his eyes flicking between the swatches in his hands. “I know I want to paint the base grey like Spark’s, but I can’t choose between red or yellow.”
“Why not both?” You suggested. You always encouraged the troopers to get as wild as possible with their armor. After all, it was one of the only real outlets they had to express themselves, besides their hairstyles and tattoos.
“Wouldn’t that be a bit...busy.” He said, waving his hand through the air.
“Well, what are you thinking for the design? Depending on how intricate it is, you could get both red and yellow in there. Maybe even some black and white for accents too. If the design isn’t too complex, the multiple colors won’t look busy at all.”
You finished your explanation and started expectantly at the troopers who both just gazed at you without speaking for a beat. You were starting to think you had food on your face until Spark broke the silence. “See, I told you she went to art school!” The proud way he said it gave you a warm feeling in your chest.
“That you did.” Blackout responded, flashing you a dazzling smile. Ugh, it should be illegal to have such perfect teeth. All the clones had perfect teeth, but somehow Blackout’s seemed...perfecter? They were so straight and white, like something out of a toothpaste commercial. Between that and their words of praise, you found yourself blushing furiously and averting your eyes.
You were trying to figure out what to say when one of their wrist comms went off, the staticy voice of another clone trooper echoing through the empty hallway.
Blackout sighed. “We’re needed on the bridge. Are you free tomorrow around this time to help?”
Technically, you didn’t have a double shift tomorrow and had the time off, but he didn’t need to know that. And as much as you loved Spark, you were very interested in spending some alone time with this handsome commander.
“Yeah, I’ll be here.” You told him, managing to recover enough to flash him a big smile of your own.
“Great,” he responded, still holding your gaze and making no move to leave.
“Great,” You said, also not breaking eye contact. You felt like you could stare into his beautiful brown eyes for the rest of your life.
Spark glazed between the two of you and rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on commander. We don’t want to get there even later than General Skywalker. Commander Cody will wring our necks.” As he spoke, he stepped behind Blackout, and started maneuvering him down the hallway by his shoulders.
You giggled at their antics and gave them a little wave. As they disappeared down the hallway, you rested your cheek in your hand and indulged in fantasies of what tomorrow would bring.
~~~
Spark didn’t let go of his shoulders until they reached the elevator bank. He went to press the button and the two of them stood back as they waited.
“She’s cool, huh?” Spark said smugly. He was always bragging about the cool civvie friends he had. Spark just had a way with people and always made friends easily. Which worked well for Blackout, since he could just wait to get introduced to said cool friends.
“Yes, very.” He responded, rolling his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to give Spark even more of an ego. But his civvie friend was incredibly interesting, and quite pretty. He’d definitely felt a connection with her at the end, like there was an electric current passing between the two of them. Suddenly, a thought came to his mind. “You and her… you aren’t… involved, are you?” He cringed internally at his words. He couldn’t have asked that any more awkwardly, could he?
Spark leaned back, resting both hands behind his head. “Nah. I had a crush on her when we first met. And we kissed each other once when we were both drunk at 79’s, but after that we both realized we only liked each other as friends.” Spark turned to wiggle his eyebrows at his commander. “Why, do you wanna get ‘involved’ with her? ‘Cuz I saw you two practically eye fucking at the end there.”
“Shut it.” Blackout said, but there was no weight behind his words, he simply smiled as he shoved his annoying vod’ika out of the way. Spark only laughed harder and Blackout just knew that he’d never hear the end of this.
~~~
Later that night, you were sitting on your bed, wrapped up in a cozy blanket and sipping at a mug of tea as you chatted with your childhood best friend over holovid.
“Okay, spill it.” She demanded after you’d finished catching up.
“Spill what? My tea?”
Your friend rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what I mean. I’ve known you for almost two decades now and I know that dreamy-eyed look on your face. So spill it. ”
You sighed dramatically. As much as you loved your friend, you hated how easily she could read you sometimes. “I met this guy today, and he was really cute.” You smiled to yourself as you replayed your brief encounter with Blackout in your head.
“I knew it! You can’t hide anything from me! So tell me everything. How did you meet? What does he look like? I need details, sister.” Your friend sat up straighter in her bed, her blanket falling off her shoulders.
“Well, he came to the requisitions counter today because he needed to repaint his helmet-” You started.
“Woah, woah. Helmet? Is he a clone? You know what I said about getting involved with soldiers.” You could already sense the lecture coming, one that you’d heard many times before.
“Ugh, just because you had one ex who happened to be a nat-born officer doesn’t mean all soldiers are bad. And besides, he’s different. He’s so handsome and has the nicest smile.” You told her, and okay, maybe you were getting a dreamy look in your eye.
“Don’t they all look the same though?”
“Wow, I can’t believe you would say something so ignorant,” You scolded her playfully. “If you spent time with them you’d see that they’re all different. And this one just happens to be especially handsome and charming.”
“You’ll have to send me a picture of him. You know, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen a clone without their helmet before.” She mused.
“Let’s just say, the Republic chose an absolute dreamboat of a template.” You laughed, and your friend joined in with you.
“When are you seeing your Prince Charming next?”
“Tomorrow, I’m helping him repaint his helmet.” You said, barely able to contain your excitement.
“Maybe you can drop a paintbrush on the floor just so you can pick it up and give him a good view of your ass.” She snickered. She was always the better one when it came to flirting with guys. Though you weren’t sure that kind of move would work on Blackout.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me though.” She paused to yawn. “Okay, girl, it’s getting late, so I’m gonna jump off. Good luck with your boy tomorrow. I expect a report with all the details to be on my desk by tomorrow night.”
“Of course. G’night.” You gave her a little wave as you clicked the holo off, flopping back on your bed to continue what you were doing before she called you, searching the holonet for inspiration for the design of Blackout’s helmet. You wanted to help make a design that was extra special, for one because he deserved it, but also, selfishly, because you wanted to hear him praise you again.
Tomorrow couldn’t come any faster.
~~~
By the time you made your way back to the requisitions counter the following day, Blackout was already there, sitting at a table towards the back of your office, meticulously applying a coat of grey paint to a shiny new helmet.
You quickly threw your bag down on your desk and made a beeline to him. “Hey, there. The new helmet is already looking good.” He was clearly in the zone and didn’t notice your entrance because he jumped slightly at your words. But then he turned his head towards you and his eyes - no his whole face - lit up in a way that made you feel about ready to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Hey! I’m glad you're here. Training ended up finishing early and I got here a little before we planned. Another requisitions officer let me in and gave me this paint. I hope it’s okay I started without you.” He told you, leaving out the part where he almost turned down the other officer’s offer to get him supplies and a workstation because they weren’t you, and it had felt like a betrayal of sorts, and the part where he debated with himself for five straight minutes whether or not to start without you. He knew he was being a lovestruck dumbass, a condition he’d seen a few of his men fall victim to before and one that he’d vowed would never affect him, but he couldn’t help it. He’d spent all night thinking about how today would go, and this sort of start was not at all what he’d expected. But he was a special operations trooper, and adapting to changing situations was his specialty, so he eventually shook off his hesitation and got down to business.
Up close, you could see his dark curls were slightly damp still. He probably showered after his training and came right here. Something about that made you giddy. “Don’t worry about it. It’s actually good you have the base layer down. We can work out the design while it’s drying.”
“Sounds like a plan,” He said with a smile, turning back to his helmet to add another layer of paint.
Your fingers twitched as you watched him. You just wanted to touch his face, to run your hands through his hair, but you knew how incredibly weird it would be to just do it out of the blue, so you sat on your hands to fight the temptation.
“A little tip, if you paint all in one direction, you won’t get as many streaks and brush strokes. I know it’s a little hard to do so close to the visor though,” You told him as you watched him struggle to get an even coat on the last section of the helmet.
“Like this?” He asked, moving his brush as you instructed.
“Yeah, perfect. Nice, even strokes, just like that.”
The side of Blackout’s mouth quirked up, and before he could advise himself against it, he blurted, “That’s what she said.”
You made a choked sound in the back of your throat before sputtering out a laugh. “What, is it 32 BBY? That joke is so old. Where’d you even learn it from?” You asked once you caught your breath.
“It was in some old holovid the boys found. It became a whole thing in the barracks for a while. I know this may come as a surprise, but Spark loved using that joke. It got so out of control I had to put a moratorium on it after a week,” he explained. He was just happy you were laughing at his joke instead of throwing dirty paint water at his face.
“Sounds like the same thing that happened in my school when that joke was popular. There were many a detention issued over it.”
“None for you of course.” Blackout flicked his eyes away from his work to look at you and as much as you tried to keep your expression neutral, you couldn’t help it as your mouth twisted into a mischievous smile. He rolled his eyes at you. “I knew it. Tsk tsk. I can’t believe you would resort to such crude humor.”
You spent the next few minutes like that, chatting and joking with one another as he finished his last coat of paint. Once he was done, he went to rinse out his brushes and get fresh water while you grabbed the supplies you’d brought with you from your bag. While you waited for him to return, you drew a few quick outlines of his helmet that you could use for brainstorming.
As he sat back down and took in everything you had laid out, he whistled low under his breath and asked, “What’s all this then?”
You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly as you explained, “Nothing much, just a sketchbook and colored pencils so we can sketch out design ideas, a few paintbrushes that you can use for detail work. Sometimes the bristles fall out of the ones the GAR provides. Plus some painter’s tape so we can keep the lines nice and straight. Oh, and I found some reference images of cool helmets on the holonet in case we needed any ideas.” Okay you knew you’d gone a little overboard with everything, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as a cute boy was involved your brain simply shut off.
“Wow, this is amazing,” You’re amazing, he wanted to say. “Thank you for bringing all this. It means a lot to me.” He internally jumped for joy as he watched your cheeks color at his words.
“N-no problem.” You stuttered out, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. You didn’t remember it being so hot in here, and since when was he so close to you? His knee brushed yours ever so slightly, and the simple touch seared into your skin. You took a long breath to ground yourself before continuing, “Now, was there anything specific that you wanted on the helmet?”
He managed to quash his smirk at your reaction before answering. “Yeah, I wanted to include jaig eyes on the forehead.”
“Jaig eyes?” You questioned, tilting your head to one side.
“They’re a sigil awarded to warriors who distinguish themselves in battle or act particularly bravely. It’s a Mandalorian thing. Back on Kamino, a lot of our trainers were Mandalorian and they introduced some of their traditions to the troops. Do you know Captain Rex of the 501st? He wears jaig eyes on his helmet.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen them, they’re awesome.” You’d seen General Skywalker’s captain a few times in passing and had always wondered if the symbols on his helmet meant something or if they were just meant to look cool. “How did you earn yours?”
“I led a squad behind enemy lines and we took out a military base.” He told you, puffing out his chest in pride.
“That’s impressive” you praised, and the slight coloring of his cheeks did not go unnoticed. Ha, two could play at that game. “So what color for the jaig eyes? I was thinking maybe yellow with a black outline to really make them stand out. And I also saw something…” You trailed off as you searched through your reference images, finally landing on the right one. You held up a picture of a helmet with an almost flame-like stripe painted on it. “Something like this. In the same color yellow with a black outline as well.”
Blackout’s eyes went wide. “That looks sick, hell yeah. Oh, I was also talking to Spark and some of the other boys, and you know those white lines on the sides of his helmet? We wanted that to become something our whole unit has. So we look cohesive while still having our unique helmets.”
You’d already started sketching a preliminary design as he spoke. “I can make that work.” You told him as you added the white accents to the drawing.
“Oh, what about the red?” He questioned, leaning closer to you to get a better look at your drawing. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling your cheek and you almost lost your grip on the pencil. “Maybe we shouldn’t use it after all, there’s already a lot going on.”
“Well, I was thinking we could paint the earmuffs red. Just the outer ridge so it’s not too much.”
“Earmuffs?” He asked with a quirk of his brow.
You raised your hands up and gestured around your ears. “You know, the thingies on the side of the helmet. They look like earmuffs.”
“They’re actually built in digital storage for any encrypted data we might come across during missions. Not earmuffs.” He harrumphed, wrinkling his nose at you in an expression that was more cute than anything else.
“Whatever you say, commander.” You teased him, complete with a little boop on the nose which made him pout even harder. “C’mon, the helmet should be dry by now, we should get started.”
Without further ado, you started ripping off pieces of painters tape and laying them down on the helmet. He busied himself with getting all of the paints ready and tidying up the work area. Once everything was ready, he grabbed a brush and got to work on one of the earmuffs/digital storage devices. After a moment he paused before grabbing another brush and handing it to you. “It’ll go a lot faster if we do it together. Plus you can show me the right painting techniques.” He told you with a wink.
For the next few hours you worked on his helmet together. Once all of the details with straight edges were done, you gingerly removed the painters tape so he could work on the jaig eyes. You were just sitting back to watch him when your stomach let out a loud growl.
His brush paused in mid air as he flicked his eyes to look over at you. “Hungry?”
“How could you tell?” You said dryly. Your stomach had the worst timing. “Are you? I can go run down the caf and get us something quick to eat.”
He thought about it for a second and said, “Yeah, that sounds great actually. I didn’t grab anything after training.”
“I’ll be right back. Stay pretty for me while I’m gone.” You said cheekily.
He chuckled. “I’ll try.”
~~~
Twenty minutes later, you were walking back into the office with a plate piled high with food. Surprisingly, the caf actually had a decent assortment of food today and you went a little overboard grabbing everything that looked tasty.
Your trip would’ve been much quicker, but you ran into Spark on the way out. He’d immediately jumped you with questions about how you and Blackout’s painting session was going, obviously probing for details. As soon as you questioned why he was so interested, he’d immediately found an excuse to run away. Still, it left you with the impression that he knew something you didn’t.
“Long lines at the caf?” Blackout questioned as you settled down next to him. He hadn’t looked up from his work, his brow scrunched up in concentration as he focused on adding the black outline to his jaig eyes.
“Not really, but I ran into Spark. He had a lot of questions.” You answered.
That made him look up, narrowing his eyes at you as he placed his helmet to the side. “What did that di’kut ask you?” As he looked at you, you noticed he had a few smudges of paint on his face, the freshest of them being a bright yellow glob on his chin. Your lips twisted up as you tried to keep yourself from giggling, which only made him more distressed. “Oh, maker, what did he say to you?”
“Nothing, I promise! It’s just- you have a little bit of paint on your face.” You reassured him.
He tried to wipe it off with the back of his hand, but it only served to streak it across his cheek.
You leaned in to clean it off with your thumb, and you could hear the slight hitch in his breath as your finger made contact with his face. You both held each other in a heated gaze, the tension between you two, fueled by all of the jokes and little flirtations, reached a peak. With his eyes still on yours, he turned his head slightly and planted a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist.
That was all the encouragement you needed and you surged forward to press your lips against his, one hand grasping at the front of his shirt while the other threaded into his dark curls, still ever so slightly damp. His arm wound around your waist and pulled you into his lap, your bodies flush against each other. You sighed into the kiss and he used the opportunity to press his hot tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours.
You broke off only when the both of you needed to come up for air, and you rested your forehead against his as you caught your breath.
His eyes flicked down to your chin and now it was his turn to laugh at your paint streaked face. . “It looks like I made a mess of you,'' he said warmly as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “How will you ever forgive me?”
“I can think of a few ways,” You told him, biting your lip as you went to close the distance for another kiss.
Just then you heard distant voices coming from somewhere down the hall and you quickly hopped out of his lap. You immediately went to the counter and flicked on the closed sign before pulling the shutter down. Then, for good measure you went to the office door and locked that as well. You didn’t need any interruptions.
You turned back to find him sitting back in his chair, legs wide open and hands planted firmly on his muscular thighs. He looked like an absolute snack, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as you rushed back towards him. As soon as you were in range, he pulled you back down to his lap.
“Now where were we?” He asked as he started pressing open mouth kisses to the side of your neck, his hands wandering down to grab at your ass.
