In Case of Forgotten Heating Pad, Use a Clone Medic Instead
Pairing: Kix x fem!reader
Word count: ~2.5k
Tags/Warnings: a little suggestive, but not nsfw; reader is on her period; some discussions regarding periods and other natural processes; i'm torturing poor Kix by embarrassing him; poorly-timed(?) boner; first kiss; short n' sweet; a little bit of mutual pining
My first offering for the @gar-romance-month
Event prompt: Cuddling
A/N: inspired by my uterus trying to kill me a few periods ago. Wish I had Kix to take care of me.
Masterlist
Kix is watching you closely. He’s always doing that due to the annoying, frustrating, completely unattainable crush he’s developed after weeks of working with you side by side. Honestly, it was impossible not to fall for you, and he doesn’t understand how the entire damn battalion isn’t completely smitten.
The way you move with graceful, yet deadly precision on the battlefield, wielding your lightsaber like it’s an extension of your very soul.
The way you kneel by the side of injured troopers, sharing your own lifeforce to keep them breathing.
The way you offer kind words and comfort even when you’re drained of power and exhausted.
Kix never stood a damn chance.
It didn’t help that, as the healer assigned to the 501st, you’re always in the medbay, always next to him in and out of the battle. And it definitely didn’t help that, when Jesse noticed his crush on you, he started asking you to join them for meals, for hang-outs in the breakroom or outings at the 79s.
But it’s pointless, useless to even imagine you might harbour the same painfully hidden feelings.
So he watches you, and laughs at your jokes, and does his very best to make you smile.
This time, however, his gaze is full of concern.
Because from the second you sat down across from him at their table in the mess hall, you seemed… off.
Your face is slightly drained of its usual colour, and your eyes seem unfocused, as if exhaustion is tightly wrapped around your body in a cold, suffocating embrace. The food on your plate keeps being pushed around, yet it barely makes its way into your mouth. And you’re just a little hunched over, not holding yourself with the typical Jedi finesse he always admires.
When your eyes meet his, Kix shoots you a quizzical look, tilting his head in a silent question. You reply by slightly shaking your head and waving a hand to dismiss his concern, then move your attention back to the story Fives is retelling about his first embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt at hooking up with a girl.
But Kix can’t pay attention to his vod. His medic intuition is screaming that something is wrong. And when he sees you wince in pain, sweet, worried Kix instantly disappears – and lead medic CT-6116 fully takes over.
“Nope, that’s it. You’re coming to the medbay!” he suddenly speaks, bringing all light-hearted conversation around the table to a standstill.
“Kix, I’m fine,” you object with a small roll of your eyes. “It’s nothing.”
Unfortunately, your point is completely ruined as you grimace and involuntarily wrap your arms around your lower abdomen.
“Something is clearly wrong. Medbay. Now!” Kix orders.
“It’s fine, really,” you keep insisting.
Kix is already standing, levelling you with a sharp, but concerned look. “Don’t make me pull rank.”
The entire table watches the confrontation silently, their eyes moving from you to the medic.
“Maker,” you hiss, frustrated. “It’s just my period, okay? Just a bad cramp. It’ll pass.”
“Oh.”
Kix sits back down on the bench, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.
That is not really something he covered during his combat medic training on Kamino. It simply hadn’t been considered efficient or necessary to teach them about female physiology when every trooper produced was biologically male. For the first time since the war began, Kix feels out of his depth.
Di’kut. He should’ve researched this the moment you joined the team.
“Can’t you – I don’t know – make it go away with your Jetti magic?” Fives asks, leaning to see you better past Hardcase.
“That requires being able to concentrate,” you explain. “And it’s always… difficult for me to do during the first two days.” You pause, rubbing your temples. “Hormonal shifts mess with my focus. Especially with Force healing.”
You almost laugh at the awkward silence that settles over the table. For all their bravery and confidence, at the end of the day, they’re still just boys – with very little experience of the world beyond training sims and battlefields.
“I’ll take a painkiller if you have one, though,” you say, directing the request to Kix.
“Uh right, yes,” he mumbles as he stands. “I’ll get right on that.”
He hurries out the mess, muttering some curses. He just had to choose today of all days to come to lunch only in his blacks, wishing to take advantage of the time spent in hyperspace, where they’re safe from any attacks. But what kind of medic doesn't carry some painkillers on him at all times?
He's in and out of the medbay in under thirty seconds, then quickly makes his way back to the mess. When he walks in, however, he instantly clocks that you're no longer sat at their table.
“Echo is helping her get back to her cabin. She said she needed to lay down,” Jesse explains as soon as he approaches.
Kix spins on his heels and pretty much sprints out the large room and down the corridors, catching up to you and Echo as you're waiting for the turbolift.
“I got it from here,” he announces, walking to your side.
Echo nods to him, then gently claps your shoulder before heading back toward the mess.
“Did you run?” you ask, amused, as you notice his rapid breathing.
Kix shrugs in response, then helps you get in the lift. The cramps have intensified. It's not something completely uncommon that might cause you to worry, but it's bad enough that you lean into his side and allow him to help get you back in your quarters.
You plop down on your cot, while Kix hurries to find a cup to fill with water.
“Left side cabinet,” you instruct, watching slightly amused as he completes his task.
Kix hands you the painkillers and the cup, and you thank him with a weak smile.
Once you take the meds, you push the cover away and lay down on your side, knees drawn to your chest and eyes screwed shut as another cramp claws its way through your body.
Ever the medic, Kix kneels by the bed, and checks your temperature with the back of his palm.
Your eyes open, puzzled to feel his hand on your forehead. “I’m not sick, Kix.”
“Just making sure,” he says.
Without thinking, he cups your face and tilts your head so he can better see your pupils. They seem a little wider than usual, but maybe it’s just the lighting in your room.
“Your hand’s warm,” you remark, leaning a little into his touch.
Kix nearly chokes on air.
“Clones, uh… run hot,” he says as his thumb gently strokes your cheek.
He should absolutely not be touching you, a Jedi, like this. And yet… you’re not pulling away. You’re human, after all, you need the comfort. And he sure as hell is happy to provide it.
You close your eyes and wince as another bad cramp hits you. Kix swears his heart clenches at the small sound you make. It could take half an hour for the medicine to kick in… maybe he should run back to the medbay and get you a bacta shot.
“Kix?” you speak before he can decide what to do. “Could you hold me?”
“W-What?”
He didn’t hear you right… did he? There’s no way you just asked–
“Heat is good for cramps,” you explain softly. “But we shipped out so quickly, I forgot to pack my heating pad.” You hesitate, starting to feel a little nervous at the shocked look on his face. “You’re warm, you know?” you add, quieter.
It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up. Then he moves – quickly, before logic can talk him out of it. Carefully, he climbs into bed behind you, resting his head on a folded arm as he presses close. Impossibly close.
You sigh, content, once you feel the steady heat of him through your clothes. He’s not entirely sure what to do with his other hand, but thankfully you take the lead; you reach for his arm and guide it yourself, draping it over your lower abdomen.
And then you’re just… cuddling. On a bed. In your room. Alone.
Kix is starting to believe that maybe he’s dreaming.
He’s never been this close to you before. Never been able to feel your ribcage expand against his chest as you breathe or smell the floral scent that clings to your hair. It’s intoxicating, and a weird guilty feeling twists in his stomach as he realises he’s somewhat glad you’re in enough pain to need him like this.
It’s horrible, and he hates himself for ever thinking it. But… Maker, he’s been dreaming of holding you like this for so long…
“Thank you,” you murmur as you readjust, trying to get more comfortable. In the process, the hem of your top rides up – and Kix’s fingers brush the soft skin of your abdomen.
And the mortifying effect is immediate.
His eyes go wide as heat floods his body, his lower blacks suddenly far too tight. This isn’t happening to him. Not right now. Kix’s entire body goes as stiff as his growing member and he pulls back slightly from you. The last thing he wants is for you to feel his hardened length on your ass and think he’s some sort of creep.
Kix is not a religious man – but right now he sure is praying to the Maker for you not to realise what’s happening. Stars help him, he’s never felt more embarrassed in his life and his heart is pounding in his chest, all of a sudden hyperaware of how close his fingers are to your core.
Why? Why now when he could finally enjoy being so close to you? Why did his body have to betray him like this?
Unfortunately, you do notice the warmth of his body retreating from the area where you need it most, and how rigidly he suddenly is behind you. It confuses you, and you can only assume he’s uncomfortable because of the position you’ve put him in. The very not professional position.
You need to somehow lighten the air.
“It’s not always this bad,” you mutter. “But sometimes my uterus gets bored and tries to kill me.”
Your joke doesn’t seem to land, as Kix refuses to relax behind you.
“Right, sorry,” you continue with a small chuckle. “The uterus is an organ–”
“I know what the uterus is,” Kix interrupts you with a scoff.
“So you should also know that periods are completely natural,” you state.
Kix groans. “I know that…”
“You sure?” you challenge. “Because you seem uncomfortable and I know some men find periods gross–”
“That’s not why I’m uncomfortable!” he protests, immediately regretting the choice of words.
“So you admit you’re uncomfortable,” you accuse, your tone both amused and slightly irritated.
“N-No, that’s… that’s the wrong word,” Kix huffs, starting to get frustrated. “I misspoke.”
“Then what is it, Kix?” you press. “Why are you so tense?”
“I’m not–”
“You are! And I don’t get–”
“I have an erection, okay?!” Kix blurts out.
“Oh.” You blink, a little caught off guard. “That's uhh… also very natural.”
“Maker take me now,” he mutters.
A heavy, loaded silence falls around you, and Kix feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Yet he can’t help but notice that you haven’t pushed his arm away or called him a creep like he expected.
Then, suddenly, you move closer to him, pressing your backside right into his pelvis. Kix grunts, strained and involuntary.
“Damn,” you remark, voice a little husky. “You’re big.”
His eyes go wide. This definitely has to be a dream. A cruel trick his mind is playing on him. Because there’s no way you could be this okay with what’s happening.
“Kix? Did it, uhm, just happen or… is there a reason behind it?” you ask.
When you don’t receive a response, you turn to face him, but the medic is doing everything to avoid your gaze. His face is flushed, redder than you’ve ever seen it before, and a pitiful look fills his eyes.
You take a deep breath, hoping you’re not reading this wrong. “What I’m asking is… do you maybe… like me back?”
His eyes snap to yours. “Back?” he repeats, voice tinged with fragile hope.
The nerves are getting to you, so all you can manage in reply is two small nods.
A smile slowly blooms on his face. Hesitantly, his fingers brush some hair behind your ear, before cradling your cheek.
“If I wake up in the barracks and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed off,” Kix murmurs.
A small, melodic laugh falls from your lips, pulling at his heartstrings. Your hand reaches for him, resting in the middle of his solid chest. A little proof that you’re really there.
“Your heart’s racing,” you observe.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “It does that whenever I'm near you.”
You grasp his hand, moving it from your face over your own racing heart. “Mine too.”
Kix huffs a small, incredulous breath. Then, he slowly trails his hand from your chest to the back of your neck, and leans in closer.
“Mesh'la,” he rasps. “Can I kiss you?”
You don't answer with words, instead you tilt your head and close the small distance between you.
The kiss is short and sweet, a tentative brush of your lips against his. The softness on his movements makes you melt. And it sends a rush of electricity through both of your bodies. He’s always been respectful and patient, and you can taste it on him even now.
Kix pulls away first, almost like he needs to make sure you haven’t disappeared. You greet him with a wide smile, and go to kiss him again – only to be stopped by a sharp cramp twisting in your gut.
Your head falls against his collarbone, and a strained whimper sounds in the back of your throat. Kix wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly into the warmth of his body.
“Still hurts?” he asks, carefully sliding a hand up and down your back.
“A little,” you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. It’s a mix of GAR-issued soap, antiseptic and a little sweat – and somehow, the best thing you’ve ever smelled. “This is really helping.”
“Alright, cyar’ika.” He presses a loving kiss on the top of your head. “Then we’ll stay like this until the painkillers kick in.”
“Wouldn’t mind staying like this after that either,” you murmur against his skin.
Kix chuckles, a low rumble you can feel from his chest.
“Then we’ll stay like this for as long as we can.”
