Do you have some headcanons about fox or wolffe that you d like to share?
hmm okay this took me a while, add this to everything I've written about them already (and I feel like these aren't really that good):
• Fox adores the size difference between him and Wolffe. He obviously doesn't need to be protected but he still feels safe when Wolffe has his arms around him, especially in public (he also kinda likes to show off with Wolffe).
• Fox is generally super possessive. He's fine with Wolffe sleeping with the Pack, but if anyone else dares hit on him he gets jealous af (and he loves to leave marks)
• Fox is the senior kinkster like in several other people's stories. He teaches people (mostly the people closer to him obviously) about kinky stuff and...
• he's really good at giving relationship advice. I have a wip in which Thorn and Thire are just getting together and Thire is panicking bcz he has some internalized hate towards clone/clone relationships (bcz of his original batch) but he's also into Thorn. Like a lot.
• Wolffe is the cuddler.
• He also gives great advice but more in general, more about adulting. Since he works at a rehab center for veterans he meets all kinds of people who need help and... There are several wips in which he helps the Pack with serious issues (hint: psychotic break, child loss)
• Wolffe is the "I can fix him" type, tho he does actually help Fox get better, even if he can't fix him per se.
• Wolffe is the gruffest looking softie you've ever met but he can also turn the dom mode on when he needs to.
Unable to find a compromise regarding sex, Fox and Wolffe decide to settle their dispute with a sparring match.
Who will be victorious?
Commission for @beckyh2112. Thank you so much for supporting me, and I hope you like it!
AO3 link
(Fic under read more)
It’s a common occurrence for Fox and Wolffe to spar when the 104th is on Coruscant - it’s something that they used to do often back on Kamino - but this particular sparring session has an ulterior motive, even though the crowd watching them is unaware of it. That’s right, only Fox and Wolffe know what this is really about.
You have to know that another thing they like to do while both on Coruscant is fucking. What? It’s not like they have much time to spend together, and they want to have fun!
There’s only one problem, at least for this particular day: they want to do two different things. While Fox is dying to ride Wolffe until he passes out, Wolffe thinks that it’s a shame that they still haven’t fucked inside Fox’s office, and would want nothing more than to bend him over the desk, the chair, the sofa, anywhere honestly, and take him like that.
Usually they’re able to find a compromise, but not this time; it’s been too long since they’ve last seen each other, and neither of them wants to budge.
What to do, then? Simple: spar, and the winner will decide what to do.
They silently circle each other, studying every single move. The only noise that can be heard are the whispers of all the troopers gathered around for this match - and how could they miss it? A fight between commanders always brings a great audience, both from those who use these moments to learn something and those who just like people wrestling to the ground.
People are betting on them, both Fox and Wolffe can hear them, though they soon begin to tune out any kind of noise. They need to focus after all, though being able to see each other in just their blacks doesn’t help at all.
Yes, it’s been way too long since they last did this.
Suddenly, Wolffe lounges at Fox, tired of waiting for the other to make the first move. He always was the most impatient of the two.
Too bad that Fox’s been expecting him to do exactly that, and when Wolffe stretches his leg to kick him, Fox catches it and uses it as leverage to toss Wolffe on the training mat.
Before he can gather his bearings, Fox gets over him, trying to put him into a headlock, but Wolffe manages to slip away and, by kicking Fox in the chest, to put some distance between them. Taking advantage of the fact that Fox is off balance he goes to grapple him. He succeeds, closing his arm around Fox’s neck and arms and hooking a leg around his so that he can’t move, and pins him to the ground.
He grins, victorious, but he might’ve underestimated Fox, because with his free arm he manages to elbow him on his teeth - ouch! - and free himself while Wolffe recoils from the blow.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaims, tasting blood in his mouth.
“My cloning vat was a saint,” Fox replies, smirking. He loves getting him all riled up; if he’s mad, he’s more likely to make a mistake.
Things are just about to become fun.
Despite this, it still takes some time before a victor can be decreed; they try to push and grapple each other, but the other always manages to either counter or get away, at least for a while.
Later Wolffe is going to blame it on the fact that he’s just come back from a difficult mission, or on the fact that he simply was way too horny for his own good, but definitely not on the fact that Fox has been smarter and wore him out before going on a true offensive, because that would simply be untrue. Still, whatever the reason, when Fox pins him down, sitting on his chest and with his elbow pressed against his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe if he were to apply more pressure, he finds himself unable to do anything.
There’s something about seeing Fox all smug and sweaty, blacks that barely hide how fun he’s finding this, that leaves him paralyzed with awe and… something else.
“I win,” Fox declares, voice low, and all Wolffe can do is staring at him, breathing heavily.
Fuuuck he wants him so bad.
Luckily for him, Fox seems of the same opinion, because he doesn’t indulge in the cheers from the crowd and not even on the joy of having won. No, the only thing he can think of is of how much he wants Wolffe, and nothing’s going to stop him from getting what he wants.
He gets up, practically dragging Wolffe with him, and makes a beeline towards the gym’s exit, ignoring any trooper that tries to compliment him for the great match.
By the time they get out, everyone must’ve understood what’s going on - after all it’s not like their relationship is a secret by any means - but such notion doesn’t bother neither Fox nor Wolffe, too entangled in this burning desire of theirs to care about that. And what if they know? It’s not like they can do anything about it after all, except being envious that is…
When he notices where Fox is taking him, Wolffe almost laughs; looks like they’re going to end up inside Fox’s office after all anyway.
It’s not like they have much of a choice, since this is the best spot if they also want some privacy. Fox’s quarters could’ve been good too, but they’re much further, and neither of them has enough patience for that. No, the office will do nicely.
They’re barely past the threshold and Fox’s already turned to kiss him, not that Wolffe can complain about it: he was about to force Fox to face him so that he could do the same exact thing. It has indeed been too long since they’ve been together.
Once he hears the sound of the doors shutting close, he reaches down with his hands, grabbing Fox’s ass and squeezing it as he pushes forwards with his body, grinding against his partner’s. Oh, he can feel how much their little run hasn’t diminished Fox’s desire at all: he’s as hard as him under the blacks.
Before he can do anything about it, however, Fox pulls away and grabs him by the shoulders, dragging him along until he pushes Wolffe down on his armchair, the one he usually sits on while he works on signing stuff and controlling datapads. It’s quite comfortable, though it has to be, or else it would be hell having to work here for such a long time.
Soon Fox’s familiar weight settles on Wolffe’s lap. His gaze at first is drawn to his crotch, obviously, but then it travels up, eating Fox up as he does so. This is a sight he’ll never grow tired of.
He can’t help but to huff in amusement as he watches Fox struggle to open his blacks - when they’re sweaty they’re always difficult to peel away from their bodies - but he doesn’t just sit back and watch, as funny that could’ve been.
“Let me help,” he mutters, hands already reaching for the zipper behind Fox’s back, slowly unraveling it and helping Fox out of his blacks, starting from his shoulders, perfect for leaving trails of kisses on them, then his chest, his stomach, his legs.
Before Fox leans down to capture his lips, he at least has a bit of time to toss the blacks on the desk, but once he settles back against him there isn’t much else he can do - not that he wants to do something else other than this…
The kiss doesn’t last as long as Wolffe would’ve liked, but that’s just because Fox wants to return the favor and get him naked as fast as he can so that they can continue.
“You’re so eager today,” he can’t help but to tease him, but the way Fox goes to grab his crotch makes him reconsider his words - just a bit though, because he likes it when he’s rough.
“Looks like I’m not the only one,” he bites back, a smirk on his face, and what can Wolffe do if not fall in love all over again?
“And are you going to do something about it?” he asks, urging him to go on. By the way Fox stops getting him out of his blacks - he’s lowered them enough to get Wolffe’s cock out and that will have to do - and begins to grind their lengths together, it looks like the response is affirmative.
“Maybe…” Fox replies then, because of course he has to be an asshole…
Unfortunately for him, Wolffe has no intention of wasting any more time, so he grabs Fox by the hips and forcefully draws him closer, then he lowers one hand between Fox’s asscheeks and… he finds his entrance already wet and loose.
Wolffe freezes, then he sends Fox what he hopes is an unimpressed look. “Really? You fought like this?”
“And I also won,” Fox replies, and damn him he sounds so smug about it too. “So what does it say about you?”
Wolffe grumbles something that Fox doesn’t catch, but he’s too distracted by the fact that he’s also slipped one finger inside, wiggling it, to ask him to repeat himself.
“You know, knowing you went all this length to be faster makes me almost want to drag things out more…” Wolffe says then, making Fox whine.
“Why must you always be such a dickhead?” he complains, then hisses when Wolffe gets two additional fingers inside him. “Everything’s ready. What are you waiting for?”
Right, what is he waiting for? He has Fox eager and ready to be taken. Is he really going to waste time just because he wants also to tease him? Haven’t they tortured each other enough already?
Ah hell, he really has to work on his patience one day or another, but not today.
He pulls his fingers out, then he leans completely back on the chair as he keeps his gaze on Fox. “Well? If you want something, come get it.”
Fox shakes his head at those words, but he’s still smart enough to take the invitation, lining himself up with Wolffe’s cock.
Ah, there we go…
Fox sinks on his cock, and Wolffe swears he can see stars.
“Holy fuck how long have you prepared yourself for?” he asks, marveling at how easily he’s gotten inside. Fox must’ve done a thorough job.
“Long enough,” the other retorts, shutting down any possible reply by kissing Wolffe while he begins to work his hips up and down his cock.
He pulls away almost immediately to better adjust, gripping Wolffe’s shoulders to steady himself as he sets an unforgiving pace for himself, too eager to ride Wolffe the way he deserves, working himself closer to the edge.
It’s a nice change of pace for Wolffe, who only needs to sit back and watch Fox do the actual work, and boy oh boy does he watch him alright. He’s a spectacle for the eyes, and the more Wolffe looks at him, the more he thinks about stealing him away next time he has to leave Coruscant, keeping him as his personal fucktoy. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? To have Fox whenever he wants to…
He comes back to the present with a wince, groaning in pain at the way Fox pinches his nipples.
“Ow you ass! What the hell?!”
“Focus on me,” Fox replies, gritting his teeth. Kriff, does he need to be such a diva every time?
Oh well, if he wants him present, then Wolffe will be present: he grabs Fox by the hips, keeping him still, while he plants his feet on the ground to have more leverage; now that he’s ready, it’s his turn to set the pace, and he does so without asking for Fox’s approval, ramming his cock inside him over and over and over again, so fast that Fox barely gets to say anything about it, not that he has enough presence of mind to do anything else except scream.
“Yes! F-Fu…! Like that!”
He can feel Fox clench around him so tightly, almost like he wants him to get stuck so that he’ll be forced to pleasure him over and over again. He clenches down even more when Wolffe slaps his ass, getting his whole body to tremble, prompting him to repeat the motion, and then doing it again.
For a moment he asks himself if they’re being too loud - this is Fox’s office after all, not his private quarters - but he figures that if Fox doesn’t care about it, why should he? Knowing him he must’ve soundproofed the room anyway, so they should be safe and hey, even if they aren’t, what’s the worst that could happen? Worst case scenario, they’ve traumatized some shinies. No big deal, they’ll recover.
The only thing is that, the more they continue, the closer he feels to coming. Normally he’d try to get this to last longer, but it’s been a long time, and besides he can see Fox going through the same struggle.
“… Close?” he decides to ask then, and when Fox nods, he knows that it’s time to take matters into his own hands.
Fox would’ve reeled back at the feeling of his cock getting stroked by Wolffe, if only he wasn’t still holding him with one hand, making it impossible for him to go anywhere, not that he would’ve once the initial feeling of surprise would’ve died down.
He’s so damn close, but just when he’s about to come, Wolffe stops moving.
“Wha--”
“Show me how much you want to come.”
Fox grits his teeth, annoyed by Wolffe’s smug expression, but he has no choice, so he goes back to work, pulling himself from the stasis Wolffe had forced him in so that he can finish the job, not without sparing the other some expletives, however.
“You di’kut, you absolute chakaar, you insufferable asshole…”
“Whatever you say, Fox’ika,” Wolffe retorts, and only then he resumes jerking him off, distracting him from his train of thought. Fox’s back to moaning, just how Wolffe likes it.
They both feel so close, but the first one to come is Wolffe, aided by the fantastic view in front of him - he’d spend days watching Fox impaling himself on his cock like this, and he’s not even joking.
He groans, head thrown back, as he shoots his load inside Fox, who twitches at the sensation.
It has truly been too long since the last time they’ve done this, because it feels like it’s never going to end, and he keeps filling Fox up over and over again, sending him over the edge as well as he paints Wolffe’s hand and his own chest white.
After what feels like an eternity, they come down of their high, every movement coming to a halt as they catch their breaths, foreheads pressed together.
“I missed you…” Fox huffs after who knows how much time.
“I missed you too,” Wolffe admits, allowing himself to indulge in this soft moment.
Even though they try not to think about it, each moment they spend together could be their last, with Wolffe on the frontlines and Fox stationed on Coruscant, but sometimes the weight of this thing they share feels impossibly heavy, especially when Wolffe stays away for long periods of time.
What if something happens? What if he doesn’t make it back? These are thoughts that always plague Fox when he’s alone, and yet, during moments like this one, he realizes that, no matter all the worrying he does - and the worrying Wolffe must do as well - it’s all worth it.
Of course he mentions nothing of this to Wolffe, figuring that he must know already - and definitely not because he doesn’t want to think about it.
He raises his hips until Wolffe’s spent cock slips out of him, and he grimaces at the feeling of cum already tickling down his thighs. The last thing he needs right now is to make a mess in his own office, but he supposes it’s too late for that isn’t it?
“How about a shower?” he proposes in an attempt to minimize the damage. “I’ve got one installed in the bathroom recently.”
Wolffe raises an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a shower in your office’s bathroom? What have you been up to that you’d need one?”
Fox shrugs, deciding to ignore that question. What he does is getting up, then he grabs Wolffe by the wrist and helps him up as well.
“So you don’t want to shower with me?” he teases, knowing that Wolffe won’t be able to resist him.
Wolffe, of course, falls for it.
“I didn’t say that,” he replies in fact. “C’mon, lead the way.”
Fox can’t help but to chuckle, but he still does what Wolffe told him.
They have a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Might as well get to do it now.
A little treat, because I made myself sad. 3636 is Wolffe, 1010 is Fox; they haven't gotten their names yet so they call each other by abbreviations of their numbers.
3636 startles awake when his sleeping pod activates from the outside. He slams a foot against the stopping mechanism and recognizes the answering squeak from outside.
"10?" He mumbles through sleep slack lips, "10 is that you?"
1010 squirms through as soon as the opening is wide enough, landing against 36's belly. "Yeah it's me!" He exclaims, "Who else would it be?! Do you have another vod who still sneaks into your bed ever since we graduated from cribs?"
"No?" The answer lands more hesitantly than 36 had intended and he blearily clears his throat before reclining back in his pod and pulling 10 up with him. "No," He repeats with more certainty, "you're the only one."
"Hey 36?"
He hums in response.
1010 continues, snuggling into 3636's chest, "You're my very best friend."
Such a blunt declaration causes heat to rise in 36's face. He still replies, "and you're mine too, 10."
His former crib-mate's voice slurs as he drifts off to sleep, "And we'll always be friends, forever, right?"
3636 settles into their new positions, gently combing his fingers through thick curls and pulling 1010's head more securely under his chin. "Right." He agrees easily, "Forever."
Soft, sleepy breaths puff against his neck where 10 has turned his face up.
(Oof this came out way longer than I thought, you’ll soon see why. Hope you like it!)
As Fox and the rest of his troops inspect the site of the wreckage, the only thing he finds are dead men. Whatever has caused the Dread Wolf to finally sink must’ve done a pretty good job at it.
He can’t help but to think that it’s a shame, despite the fact that the Dread Wolf, and especially its captain, have been a thorn to his side for years, hindering the commerce with their incursions. King Palpatine had even declared by law that any act of piracy will be punishable by death, but that never stopped the crew of the Dread Wolf.
Still, Fox won’t lie and say that he never enjoyed the thrill of the chase, that sometimes he even looked forward to the Dread Wolf’s incursions, so he’d get his chance to duel the only man who he could ever consider his rival.
And now…
That lucky son of a whore.
The man Fox has just found on the shore it’s the same man that he was talking about: here he is - alive and breathing - the master of the Dread Wolfe, captain Wolffe himself - Fox has always wondered which name came first, the ship’s of the captain’s.
How he’s still alive, this Fox doesn’t know, but in the end, it’s not like it matters: now that he’s found him, he will arrest him, and then he’ll be sentenced to death. Either that, or he’ll rot in prison if the king feels merciful - if that can be either considered a mercy.
It’s his duty to take him in custody, to make him pay for his crime… and yet, Fox still hasn’t moved a muscle.
He can’t, he just can’t…
What’s stopping him from fulfilling his duty?
It’s his damn honor, that’s what it is: last time they’ve met, he and his crew had ambushed the ship Fox was in, but he let Fox go despite the fact that he could’ve easily taken him down, only taking the goods the ship was transporting before leaving.
He could’ve easily killed him, but he didn’t, and now Fox can’t bring himself to apprehend him like he’s supposed to do.
… Damn it all!
Before he can be joined by the rest of the royal guard, he takes Wolffe’s unconscious body and drags him behind a group of rocks so that he’ll be hidden, then he goes back to the site of the wreckage, deleting every trace of something being dragged to safety.
Thankfully, both for Wolffe and himself because, if someone finds out, Fox will be hanged for betrayal, he manages to do it before everybody else arrives.
“Found anything?” Thorn, his second in command, asks him.
“Nothing of interest,” Fox replies. “Just other wrecks of the ship.” He truly hopes that Thorn will not see behind his lies; out of everyone, he’s the person who knows him the most.
Thorn nods, thoughtful. “Yeah… Most men must’ve drowned. It’ll take some time before all of them wash up to the shore, if the fish don’t eat them first.”
Fox frowns at the image, but he supposes that Thorn is correct, which makes it plausible that they wouldn’t see Wolffe’s body. And Fox didn’t even need to advance that hypothesis himself, so he’ll look less suspicious for it.
At that point he sighs, gaze moving from the wreckage to Thorn. “If we’re done here, let’s move out. The sun’s setting, we’ll get back tomorrow morning.”
At those words, they all snap to attention. “Yessir!”
--
Once he can take advantage of the cover of the night, Fox comes back to the site of the wreckage, thinking about how dead he is at each step. He shouldn’t be doing this, and yet here he is.
He finds Wolffe still unconscious, which does worry a bit, but he’s well aware that he can’t exactly bring him to a doctor, so all he can do is to find him a secure place where he can rest, and hopefully get well. If he needs to, he can bring him medicine… Wait, why is he thinking so far ahead? And also, why should he even buy stuff for him? Isn’t it enough that he’s giving him shelter?
Oh well, he can think about this later. Now he needs to take him somewhere safe, which, he regrets to admit, could be only one location: his house.
“Jesus how much do you weigh?” he mutters under his breath as he drapes one of Wolffe’s arms around his shoulders so that he can pull him up and drag him to what will be his temporary hideout.
The more he keeps going, the less he feels this is worth it, but he’s gone too far to stop now. He’s taken a decision and he’ll go along with it until the bitter end.
--
When Wolffe wakes up, the first thing that comes to mind is how much everything hurts. He doesn’t remember going into a drunken blender the previous day, so that can’t be it…
In a flash, he remembers everything: the storm, their desperate attempts to stir the ship… the wreckage.
He jolts up, or well he would’ve done it if one of his wrists wasn’t bound to the headboard of the bed he somehow finds himself laid upon. Panicked, he raises his gaze to observe what is keeping him there; it’s a simple handcuff, but he knows by the looks of it that he can’t smash it, not without some dull object.
And yet, despite the knowledge, his mind is too fuzzy with panic for him to act accordingly; he tugs on the handcuff, then he tries again, and again, but to no avail.
He begins looking around for something he can use, when a weight presses against his shoulders, forcing him down. “Don’t. Move.”
You can imagine his surprise when he sees that the man over him is Fox, commander of the king’s guard himself.
At that, he tries to shake him off, to free himself even harder than he was doing before, which ends up with Fox reacting by pinning him down by the wrists. “For fuck’s sake, Wolffe, I’m trying to help you here!”
“And how exactly are you helping me?” Wolffe growls back. “Looks like you took me prisoner!”
“Yeah, because I didn’t know what you would’ve done when you woke up!” Fox retorts. “I wasn’t going to leave you unguarded and alone…”
Silence falls between the two, tense at first, but then Wolffe - and consequently Fox - begins to relax, until Fox speaks again. “I found you in the midst of what remained of your ship, and since you spared me once, I’m returning the favor. If you promise me you’re not going to make a mess, I’m going to uncuff you.”
Oh.
This is unexpected. Did Fox really do it?
No, it’s impossible, he must be lying!
… Right?
And yet, for some reason, he finds himself inclined to believe him, because he knows that, unlike many of his companions, Fox keeps his word. It’s one of the reasons why he enjoys dueling with him and why he respects him despite the fact that he’s the king’s dog.
Despite everything, he nods, then. “I promise,” he tells Fox, intending not to betray his trust. If it’s true that he saved him, it’s the least he can do.
Fox looks at him for a moment, probably pondering if he should trust him or not, but in the end he decides to free him, so he slowly goes to unlock the handcuff that is keeping Wolffe to his bed with the key he was keeping in his pocket.
Once he’s free, Wolffe pushes him off, but otherwise he doesn’t seem to do anything else except sit and massage his sore wrist. Just how long has he been like this? He’s afraid to ask.
Silence falls between them, even as Fox sits beside him. In normal circumstances, they would have nothing to do with each other, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t be exactly inclined to talk to each other, and yet, Wolffe has to ask…
“Was there any other survivor?”
Fox sighs. He was expecting this question. “Not that I know of,” he replies, then, figuring that for this kind of stuff, sugarcoating it would’ve been useless.
Wolffe lowers his gaze as a heavy silence settles between them. He looks so miserable but unwilling to show it that Fox almost feels the urge to try to reassure him, but he doesn’t, knowing that no matter what he says, it wouldn’t make it all better like some kind of magic.
Eventually, the atmosphere is so heavy that Fox can’t stomach staying there anymore. “I-I’m going to bring you something to eat,” he mutters. “Stay here.”
With that, he gets up and leaves the room, towards the kitchen. Watching the state Wolffe is in now makes him wonder if it wouldn’t have been more merciful to just kill him, but it’s not like he can go back on his decision now; it’s way too late for that.
--
With time Wolffe’s body begins to heal, and he finds himself with more and more energy. The same can’t be said about his mind, however, not when this all still feels like a nightmare to him.
Did he really lose all his men? No, it can’t be, and yet he knows that Fox is not lying - what reason would he have to do that when he’s gone all the way to rescue him and not send him to prison immediately?
What should he do, now? What even is he anymore? A captain without neither a ship, nor a crew.
Why did he even survive? Why did Fox take pity on him?
He should’ve just let him die…
--
Fox is… surprisingly cordial to him.
At first Wolffe found it weird, unnatural even - they’re supposed to be enemies, not this - and yet he can’t help but to be appreciative of the effort Fox is doing not to antagonize him, just as much as Wolffe tries to do the same, knowing that if he crosses him, he risks losing this safe harbor.
Once he heals more, he’s even allowed to explore Fox’s house, though of course he’s confined to his room whenever the commander has guests; it’s in their best interest that he remains hidden.
He still thinks Fox is a fucking dog, but… he’s not so bad, after all.
Living in such close quarters has made him discover parts of him that he wouldn’t even have known about otherwise, like that he hates sweets except from honeyed stuff, that he’s very particular about what to wear - he has to appear perfect always - and that he has a secret soft spot for cats - he must’ve forgotten that Wolffe was inside when he took a weak stray inside to feed him and then let it go outside once it was strong enough to move again.
He supposes that Fox has found out some things about him as well, like the fact that he snores in his sleep, something that he complains about quite often, that he likes meat and that he’s unexpectedly good at flower arrangement, demonstrated when Fox didn’t know what to do for the guard’s doctor’s birthday; he suggested he could give her a bouquet that she could keep in her study, and even helped him arrange some flowers.
“Where did you learn?” Fox asks, dumbfounded by this. It makes him wonder why he didn’t open a flowers shop instead of becoming a pirate; at least he would’ve had an honest work.
“That’s a secret,” Wolffe replies, winking.
They both freeze, at that. Did Wolffe just…
This easy camaraderie shouldn’t be possible between them, and yet here they are, acting like a pair of friends.
It’s weird, just… yes, weird.
Maybe they shouldn’t get so close to each other.
--
Fox has lost count of how many nights he’s spent without being able to fall asleep because of Wolffe.
To be fair, he can’t exactly blame him for something that, after all, isn’t in his control, but this nightmare business hurts both of them.
He should do something about it, but what? He’s no expert in this matter, and he doubts he has what it gets to calm him down.
A sigh escapes his lips as he gets up from his bed.
Before he can change his mind, he makes it to the guest room.
He finds Wolffe twisting and turning in his bed without any hope of stopping soon.
Fox’s gaze is sad as he looks at him. If he lost his entire battalion, would he be the same? Would he be able to pull through? He doesn’t know…
He’s always had the feeling that Wolffe was pretty close to his crew, definitely closer than he is with the king’s guard, but it would still hurt, even though not as much.
He almost reaches for Wolffe, before having a last minute hesitation; they say that you shouldn’t wake up people who are having a nightmare, so shouldn’t he just let it pass? But he feels bad not doing anything!
In the end he decides to put an end to his suffering, and he shakes him.
He was expecting Wolffe to jolt awake in a violent manner, but he wasn’t expecting him to actually attack him, though in hindsight he should’ve known this was going to happen - he would’ve probably done the same. Wolffe punches him, then he even tries to choke him, but Fox grabs his hands, keeping him still.
“Wolffe…” he says, voice weirdly soft, as he tries his best to keep the other at bay. “It’s me… Wolffe… Stop!”
At that, Wolffe freezes and let’s Fox go. “Fox…”
“It’s fine,” Fox hurries to say, trying to be reassuring. “It’s fine…”
He doesn’t know how it happens exactly - he must’ve been so shocked that he barely registered it - but here they are with Wolffe held in Fox’s arms as he sobs quietly - or at least he tries to do it - while Fox caresses his hair in a silent attempt to bring him some comfort. He’d say something, but first of all he’s afraid of ruining things by running his mouth and potentially saying something that would turn out to be the wrong thing, secondly, he doesn’t even know what to say.
Saying something like “it’s fine” feels disingenuous at best, outright insulting at worst. No, it’s not fine, and who knows if it’ll ever be; he won’t lie to Wolffe like that, so he just keeps holding it, wondering if there even is a point to this, if this is actually helping.
He wasn’t expecting Wolffe to drag him down for a kiss.
These last few weeks have been full of stuff he wasn’t expecting, but this has to take the cake. Most unexpected of all, though, it’s the fact that he finds himself returning the kiss, that when Wolffe falls down on the bed, taking him with him, he goes along without batting an eye.
He feels his hands on his body and he doesn’t push him away, doesn’t try to stop him. Actually, he welcomes every move.
Weirdly enough, he feels like he’s been waiting for this to happen, but he has not, hasn’t he?
--
It’s not the first night they spend like this. After the first, it’s like something has changed inside them, a burning desire for the other that can be hardly satisfied.
In a way it’s not that different from when they’d constantly seek each other out in battle, only that now their duels are of a very different kind.
With this, however, a feeling of dread keeps hanging over Fox’s shoulders: he’s aware of what would happen to him - and Wolffe too - if they get caught, and the more Wolffe stays with him, the more likely it’s to happen.
Eventually, he’ll have to let him go, and Wolffe, well, he’ll go back to what he used to do, he supposes. If he managed to make a name for himself out there, he can do it again - besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have allies in the pirating business that would surely help him out.
Despite this, however, he finds himself unwilling to let Wolffe leave. For once, he wants to be selfish…
--
Things change on one night, a night that Fox has no intention of spending at home. He has too much to think about, and feels the need for some fresh air.
Besides, it’s been a while since he let himself be seen outside beside his duties; he wouldn’t want people to think that something’s up…
It’s weird, in a way, being so far from Wolffe…
Eh, look at him. Some shitty king’s guard he makes.
Before he has the time to react, he’s pulled into a dark alleyway, showed against the wall by two men that, on a more attentive exam, are two people that Fox didn’t even think were alive: Wolffe’s right-hand men, Boost and Sinker.
“Good evening, Foxie…” Sinker greets him with a grin, using the nickname that he knows makes Fox growl in fury, which in fact he does. He hates being called like that.
Boost, on the other hand, doesn’t share Sinker’s playful behavior. “Tell us where you’re keeping Wolffe locked up and we might not gut you like the dog you are,” he growls, pushing a knife against Fox’s throat, though Fox looks unimpressed.
“Very classy, like always,” he replies in fact, but that’s not all he has to say, even though he doubts it’ll help. “And, for your information, Wolffe is with me, and not locked in a cell.”
Boost and Sinker look at each other, and Fox knows already that this is going to be a looooong night.
--
Somehow he’s convinced them to come with him and see with their eyes, though they’re still wary of him, enough that, if he makes the wrong move, they’re going to gut him. It’s fair, he would do the same in their situation, he supposes.
He can’t lie: he’s surprised to see that there have been other survivors, considering what they have found. It makes him wonder how exactly they managed to hide from them, but when he tried to ask they shut him down immediately. It’s fine, he doesn’t care about it that much - liar and hypocrite.
At least Wolffe will be happy to see them…
--
Just as he thought, as soon as Wolffe sees Sinker and Boost with Fox, he runs towards them, just like the other two as soon as they see their captain alive and well. They meet halfway, almost colliding into each other for the excessive speed.
“I can’t believe it…” Wolffe mutters, drawing the two into a tight hug. “You’re alive!”
“We are!” Sinker tearfully replies. “And you! You are…!”
“So he wasn’t lying after all,” Boost mutters, turning towards Fox, who sagely doesn’t say anything despite how much he wants to retort to that, since he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Actually, maybe he should leave, let them have a moment.
Before he can do that, though, he hears Wolffe scold Boost. “Don’t say that! He… He helped me quite a lot. He saved me, in fact.”
Yes, they’re all surprised at that admission, even Fox, despite the fact that he’s gotten used to the idea that yes, he did save him. Still, it’s weird to hear it directly from Wolffe’s ears.
“I… I should go. Give you some time alone,” he’s able to mutter, before retreating to the kitchen.
Coward…
--
When he hears the sounds of steps, he pokes out to see Boost and Sinker on their way to the main door.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“None of your business,” Boost states, and after that, he walks out of Fox’s room, leaving Sinker lingering on the exit, but he still hasn’t moved.
He looks at Fox and he seems… hesitant, for some reason?
“Hey,” he begins, “… Thank you, for saving Wolffe.”
Fox’s old instincts push to retort that he hasn’t done it for them, but what would that accomplish? Nothing at all. If anything, it would be detrimental.
“It’s nothing…” he mutters, barely loud enough to be understood. Sinker looks at him, expression hard to read, then he leaves as well.
--
He doesn’t go to Wolffe immediately, afraid of what he’d see in him once he lays his gaze upon him: the happiness he must be feeling for having found some of his old crewmates and… the desire to leave.
Here he is again, being a selfish fuck. He shouldn’t be like this, and he knows that eventually he will have to let him go - he can’t continue this charade forever, and it’s important for both their lives that Wolffe leaves - but he can’t deny that it will hurt having to do that.
To think that that feared day might come soon…
He shakes his head, trying to get a hold of himself.
In the end, he got attached to Wolffe, something that he shouldn’t have done, something that is dangerous.
A sigh escapes his lips. Well, it’s not like he can do anything about it now, can’t he?
--
When he goes to Wolffe, he does indeed look the happiest Fox has seen him since he’s saved him.
When Fox steps into the bedroom, he finds him sitting on his bed, but as soon as Wolffe notices his presence he walks up to him and he kisses him with a fervor that he never used before. Fox, although surprised by such an initiative, especially now, can only submit to the attentions, and so doesn’t object when Wolffe walks him to the bed and pushes him onto him, following suit.
He keeps him close and he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him and takes him until Fox feels like he’s drowning, but eh, if he has to be honest, this wouldn’t be a bad way to go…
--
“So… Are you leaving?” Fox asks. He’s waited until he and Wolffe were done, and what better way to ask than now, while they’re both still recovering lying one beside the other? Sure, he might sour the mood, but Fox needs to know.
“… Yes,” Wolffe replies, suspiciously cautious. Is he hiding something?
There are many things Fox would like to say, so many that it creates such a mess in his mind that he just nods without actually uttering a thing. He has much to think about after all.
Apparently, Wolffe is of the same vein, because he keeps quiet as well. It’s like all the enthusiasm from before has vanished, leaving space to quiet contemplation.
Fox would do anything to know what he’s thinking about; he could ask, but he feels like if he does, he’d only make Wolffe less willing to share. No, he’s got to wait, admitting that Wolffe will share the conclusions he’ll reach after this moment.
He’s lucky, because soon, after a long sigh that doesn’t preannounce anything good, he turns toward Fox, a determined and serious look in his eyes.
“Come with me.”
Fox, taken off guard by such a request, can only reply with a “Where?” before mentally slapping himself. As if it’s not obvious where he wants him to go. “I can’t,” he quickly adds then, shaking his head.
“Why?” Wolffe asks.
Fox doesn’t know what to say; wouldn’t it be too easy to just leave his life behind, and for what even, exactly? No, he can’t do it, no matter how much he’d want to. “I…”
He wants to leave.
The realization hits him like a punch in the gut.
This is his life, what he worked hard to obtain. He has friends, here, people he cares about… and yet, he wants to leave them all behind.
He can’t deny how tired he’s got of everything. The kingdom’s falling into pieces and he seems to be the only one who has noticed it. Is this why he wants to leave?
Yes, but also not entirely: these weeks spent with Wolffe have been special for Fox. He’s never felt more alive than in the company of the same man who’s lying down with him, at his side.
To be able to leave with him… It would be a dream…
“What’s stopping you?”
Fear, Fox realizes. Fear is what’s stopping him.
Leaving with Wolffe would be such a drastic change from his usual life that he can’t help but to feel paralyzed at the prospect. How could he even get used to it? And if he regrets the change?
On the other hand, however, wouldn’t he regret not leaving? Wouldn’t he regret not following Wolffe? Yes, he would.
He can’t lie: he feels a certain thrill at the idea of living a criminal life with his beloved, but could it really become more than just a fantasy? Could they make it work?
He wants to make it work.
Yes, Fox wants this to work, he wants to be free and happy with Wolffe, and that won’t happen until they leave.
He takes Wolffe’s face between his hands and he kisses him, then he kisses him again and again, but when they pull away, he seems to be talking more to himself than to the other.
“Yes… Nothing’s stopping me.” He can leave if he wants - and he wants it. Nothing’s stopping him…
He looks back at Wolffe and every shadow of doubt is gone from his face. If he lets this occasion slip through his fingers, he’ll never forgive himself, he knows it.
Wolffe looks at him expectantly. “So that means…”
“Yes,” Fox says, “let’s do it.”
--
If you told Fox that one day he was going to find himself running away from the kingdom he’s served since he has memory, following his archnemesis turned lover, he would’ve laughed at you and then thrown you into jail. Funny how some things change, huh?
Here he is now, looking at his house one last time, before leaving it - and his previous life - forever behind.
There’s still some space - a very tiny one - for doubt in his head, but he’s made up his mind: he’s going to live his life to the fullest, and in order to do that, he needs to leave. Wolffe will surely show him a new side of life that he didn’t even know existed, Fox is certain of it.
He turns around, looking at Wolffe, who’s standing behind him, waiting for him to say goodbye to his old life.
When he notices Fox’s gaze on him, he sends him an interrogative gaze. “Ready?” he asks.
Fox stays silent. He walks up to Wolffe, taking his hand once he’s close enough and raising it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.
foxwolffe role reversal?? how would wolffe deal with being the guard commander, and what would fox be like on the battlefield? :eyes:
(Oh this is such a interesting prompt! Thank you for asking it!)
“Wolffe, you absolute chakaar! You dumb di’kut! You--”
“Hello to you too, Fox.”
Wolffe had no idea the 104th was back on Coruscant, but if he’s surprised to see Fox come barging in his office, he doesn’t show it. His mild amusement is great at hiding things, he’s found out.
“Don’t you just ‘hello’ me, you fool!” the other retorts, clearly unhappy. “You think I wouldn’t hear?”
Wolffe knows that was he’s doing is risky, but it’s so amusing to push Fox’s buttons that he can’t help it anyway.
“Hear what?” he asks in fact, pretending that he has no idea about what Fox is talking about - he knows, of course, he knows too well.
Fox takes the bait, but maybe a bit too aggressively, judging by the way he stomps towards his desk only to grab him by his shoulders.
“Why can’t you understand that they’re going to decommission you if you keep acting like this!”
That’s the heart of the problem, isn’t it?
Wolffe will never not be surprised at the fact that they’ve decided to put him in charge of the Guard: maybe it’s because he seemed the most diplomatic of the batch. Seemed, because things soon changed once Wolffe realized just how bad things are for them, something he has to stand up for, even at the cost of becoming more bitter with the times and getting rid of all the softness that he once felt - not that this stops him when he knows he’s safe, like he is now, alone with Fox.
What can he say, he refuses to have he and his brothers being treated like simple props, even if this entails calling a Senator exactly what he is, which is a piece of…
“I’m too good, they can’t afford to replace me,” he retorts. He’s not saying it just because he’s cocky, it’s the actual truth: Wolffe does an astounding job with the Guard, he’s too good of an asset to be replaced, and he knows it, which means that, more often than not, he uses this information to his advantage, protecting his vode and making sure that the Senators know that their bad behavior won’t be tolerated.
“You say this now, but how do you know it’s going to be like this forever?” Fox asks. “I just-- Ugh! You’re impossible!”
In a moment he completely deflates, and the smirk on Wolffe’s face dies once he notices how worried he looks. Alright, enough joking around.
He takes Fox’s head between his hands, dragging him closer to press their foreheads together.
“Fox, you don’t know how it’s like here. I need to do this because if I don’t we’re going to get trampled. I need to stand for what is right.”
“I know, I know, I just…” Fox begins. “… I worry for you.”
Wolffe doesn’t wait anymore and he kisses him. As predicted, Fox returns the kiss in kind, hungry and desperate. They’ve both missed each other so much.
“I’m here, cyar’ika,” Wolffe whispers once they pull away. “I’m here.”
Fox nods, though he doesn’t look much better than he did before, which prompts Wolffe to guide him to the couch.
“How about I get us something to drink? You can tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Yeah, I would like that.”
After the first couple of glasses of corellian whiskey, Fox already looks much better.
Wolffe still has to get used to his new grey armor - it used to be red, just like the Guard’s. It doesn’t mash well with his vibrant red hair, but Wolffe is getting used to it. If anything, what really pains him is the reason behind this color change; losing men never feels good, and to lose that many…
Honestly, Wolffe is surprised about how well Fox seems to have taken it, at least on a surface level, though he can see how deeply affected he’s been by the Malevolence incident. He’s not going to lie, he’s worried about him: Fox has begun shutting him - and everyone else - down more and more often, and sometimes he looks like he hasn’t slept for weeks even.
This war is ruining him.
And yet, right now Fox looks like he did when they were first dispatched. Wolffe likes to think that it’s because of him but who knows, maybe it’s just because here on Coruscant he doesn’t have to fight. There’s no war here after all, it’s easy to forget about it, or at least pretend it doesn’t exist.
Well, who cares if it’s because of him or not; as Fox scoots closer, resting his head on Wolffe’s shoulder, exhaling with a happy smile on his face, Wolffe finds himself completely drawn to him, and what else can he do, then, if not dragging him for a kiss, and then another and another again? He swears, he’ll never get enough of his lips; it must be because they have much time spent apart to make up for. How does the saying go? Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?
Oh well, knowing how things are, it could be worse, way worse than this, right?
Maybe Fox/Wolffe? They’re cuddling in bed while they listen to the rain outside their window. The war is over and the clones have their rights. They’re happy and safe. Maybe they’re talking about adopting some kids?
(Awww this is such a sweet prompt)
It feels, well, not wrong, but definitely weird, waking up with the knowledge that you don’t have any duty to attend to, no weight to shoulder, no troops to command. Fox doesn’t know when it was the last time he felt like this - probably never, his mind suggests. No matter how much time passes, he still doesn’t get used to it.
The war is over, and so is their life of servitude. Yes, the clones have been emancipated; it didn’t happen without a fight, but they’ve finally made it.
He shifts, cuddling closer to Wolffe’s warm body. He’s still asleep, so he’s not gonna complain about Fox being almost all the way on top of him.
A smile appears on Fox’s lips and he closes his eyes, resting his head on Wolffe’s chest.
A few more minutes of sleep won’t hurt anybody…
When he wakes up again, it’s to the feeling of someone caressing his hair. He smiles, again, sighing at the nice sensation.
“You’re awake.” Wolffe’s voice is soft; Fox doesn’t remember the last time he heard him this relaxed.
“Barely,” he says then, yawning. They’re taking it slow, but it’s fine: the war has ended and their services aren’t required anymore. They can take a day for themselves.
They still haven’t got up, though Fox is way more awake than before. It feels nice, not having anything to do; it means that he can get to Wolffe’s level and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him again without being afraid of wasting time.
Wolffe, on his part, seems perfectly happy with this, allowing Fox to show all his affection. Normally he’s way more grumpy about this, but he’s figured that there’s no reputation to uphold this time: it’s just he and Fox, he can get a little soft.
He lets himself melt into Fox’s arms, enjoying his closeness.
It starts raining. Such a familiar sound; it brings them back to Kamino. Ah, Kamino. So many hardships, so many memories…
In the end, they suppose, it wasn’t that bad. They survived it, didn’t they? That’s what matters. Besides, now that they have full control of the cloning facilities, they’ll make sure that the new adi’ke won’t suffer like they have; it’s a promise.
Fox almost wants to fall back asleep, safe in Wolffe’s arms, but he suddenly gets more awake when he looks up and sees Wolffe looking in the distance, wearing an expression he’s getting accustomed to as of late.
It doesn’t necessarily happen only when it rains, but that so familiar sound is an incentive: when Wolffe thinks of Kamino, now, he can’t help but to think about the cadets, and a new instinct, something that he never knew he’d feel, comes to the surface.
He wouldn’t be the first clone to do it; in fact, he’d be one of the lasts to adopt a cadet. It’s an instinct that none of them is able to resist.
They still haven’t talked about it, except once, but it was just a passing thought at the time. Besides, he knows he can’t bring this matter to Fox without any kind of warning, since he’s a bit particular about it: he said that he wanted to enjoy life for himself for a while, figure out what he wants to do and who he is. Only then, maybe, he’d consider adoption.
To Wolffe’s credit, he never pressured Fox, and neither he mentioned this desire, not until he’s sure Fox is ready for this conversation.
Now, looking at Wolffe, feeling so at peace with himself, Fox feels ready.
“You going with Master Plo to Kamino tomorrow, right?” he asks. Even though the Jedi aren’t Generals anymore, they’re still more than often accompanied by clones wherever they go; it’s not even for protecting reasons most of the time, they just enjoy each other’s company.
“Yeah…” Wolffe replies, carefully, wondering why Fox is bringing this up now.
“Well, if you seem someone that… I mean…” Osik why is this so hard? “I wouldn’t mind. A kid, I mean…”
“Are you telling me that I can pick up a kid?” Wolffe asks, wanting to make sure he’s got what Fox wants to tell him right.
Fox nods, surprising Wolffe. He really wasn’t expecting this, at least not now, not so suddenly.
“Really?”
“Really,” Fox nods. “I think I’m ready.”
“That’s… That’s great,” Wolffe says, overjoyed despite his difficulty to show it - though Fox knows already. “One thing, though.”
“What is it?”
“You have to come with me,” Wolffe replies. “If we’re taking a pup with us, I can’t be the only one choosing.”
Well, it makes sense, but…
“Would that be okay? What will Master Plo say?”
Wolffe rolls his eyes. “If you think he’ll be less than ecstatic to have you with us, then you don’t know him at all.”
“Alright… Alright,” Fox mutters, more to steel himself than anything else. He looks back to Wolffe. “Fine, I’ll come along.”
He’s rewarded by a hug and a kiss on his lips. When they pull away, Wolffe is overjoyed.
“A pup. We’re getting a pup all for us.” He can’t wait.
Seeing him like this, Fox can’t help but to be influenced by Wolffe’s happiness.
“Yes. All for us…”
He doesn’t know what this new page of their life will bring them… But he’s excited to find out.
Tag list: @maulusque @snap-p @menac-ika
If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.
Assorted Clonecest Fics - Nervousness (Fox/Wolffe) | G
Years spent as a senators’ lackey have given Fox a great blank face; either with his bucket on or without it, no emotions will transpire from his face if that’s what he wants.
Despite this, however, he can’t hide from Wolffe. He blames the years they’ve spent on Kamino, when Wolffe was his usual confidant; he knows him too well now.
“Fox, are you nervous?” he asks as he approaches his cyare, trying to keep a light tone. He knows that Fox doesn’t do well when people openly show their worry towards him, so he’s trying to be mindful.
“Of course not,” Fox lies, though if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t be able to tell. “I doubt Master Plo is any worse than the senators I’ve already had to deal with.”
The problem is that he really is nervous, because this is the first time he’s going to meet Master - Master, not General since the war’s now over - Plo Koon in an informal setting. He has no idea about how he’s supposed to act, what he’s supposed to say.
He knows that he’s overthinking this: Master Plo has always been kind to his men, just like all the Jedi have been, but there’s something about the situation in which they’re going to meet that puts him in a weird spot.
Is Master Plot going to give him the shovel talk? What if he doesn’t like Fox personally? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened…
What he’s most afraid of, however, is to embarrass Wolffe in front of someone he clearly cares a lot about; he hasn’t missed the way Wolffe and the other boys of the Wolfpack tend to refer to Master Plo as buir, and the thought of doing something in front of him scares him more than anything else.
He’s pulled back to reality when Wolffe cups his face between his hands.
“Fox, there’s nothing to fear. Plo buir’s going to love you,” he tells him. Fox forces himself to smile.
“I know, I know…” he mutters, though despite the reassurance he still feels nervous.
“Do you want to postpone the meeting?” Wolffe asks then. Despite the fact that he knows that Plo would love Fox, he understands that it can be nerve wracking for his cyare. If he really wants, they can wait until he’s ready.
“No,” Fox replies, however, shaking his head. He knows this is important for Wolffe and he refuses to run away like a coward.
He’s rewarded by a kiss. When they pull away, Wolffe looks the happiest Fox has seen in a very long time.
“Thank you, Fox. It means a lot to me.”
Fox returns the smile, pushing their forehead together in a keldabe kiss.
“C’mon, let’s go now. No need to make Master Plo wait.”
It’s weird being inside the Jedi Temple. For so long, only Jedi were allowed inside, but after the war the bond between them and the vode has grown so strong that they’ve allowed an exception. Many of the men are staying there; there are even talks about making them instructors for the younglings, padawans and cadets, who are allowed inside as well.
Wolffe hasn’t made his wish to do the same a secret, while Fox… Fox still hasn’t decided what he wants to do. There’s still a lot in his mind, but he wouldn’t mind creating a space for himself inside the Temple.
What surprises him more is how beautiful the Temple looks. He thought that it was going to be bland and boring, but that isn’t the case at all. He can’t stop looking around, a sight that makes Wolffe smile.
They reach Master Plo at the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
It’s… incredible, so beautiful. Fox is so busy observing his surroundings that he forgets about his nervousness, at least until Master Plo approaches them.
“Wolffe, Commander Fox. It pleases me to see that you’ve made it,” he greets them.
“Not a Commander anymore,” Fox immediately corrects him, freezing as soon as those words leave his mouth. Oh no, he kriffed up already. He immediately turns his panicking gaze towards Wolffe, who’s trying very hard not to laugh, the chakaar.
He sounds kind, not at all offended by the fact that Fox has corrected him; he isn’t used to this. At least it manages to make him feel more at ease.
See, Fox? You’ve been worried for no reason! Wolffe was right…
“Wolffe, could you leave me and Fox alone?”
… Or maybe not.
The gaze Fox sends Wolffe’s way could be easily translated into “don’t leave me or I’ll kill you” but Wolffe isn’t someone to get intimidated by this. He squeezes Fox’s hand once, as if that would be enough encouragement, then he turns to Master Plo.
“Of course,” he says, taking a few steps behind before turning and giving them some space, while Fox watches helplessly as he abandons him. Piece of oisik.
“Fox.”
He immediately turns towards Plo. Oh dear, here we go.
“I have to apologize to you.”
O-Oh?
“Apologize, sir?” Fox asks, unsure that he heard correctly.
“I’m not a General anymore, there’s no need to call me sir,” Plo corrects him, tone still gentle. “I can sense your fear, is it because of me?”
“Well… I…” Fox begins wondering if he should lie, but opting, in the end, to tell the truth. “… Yes.”
“That’s understandable,” Plo begins, “But I assure you, Fox, that it’s an unfounded fear. Not only I appreciate what you did for the Republic and respect your experience, I can see how happy you make Wolffe, how much you fulfil each other.”
“Sir-- Um, Master?”
Plo steps closer, resting his hands on Fox’s shoulder. Despite Fox’s bigger physique, he still manages to make him feel so small, but not in a bad way…
“There’s nothing to fear, here. You’re safe.”
This is going very differently from what Fox thought, but he doesn’t mind being wrong this time, not one bit.
If Master Plo is telling him that he has nothing to fear, then he believes him. After all, a Jedi wouldn’t lie.
“Thank you, Master Plo. Truly,” he says, bowing his head slightly. He can’t see the kel dor’s face, but he has the impression that, under his mask, he’s smiling.
“Come now, let us find Wolffe. It wouldn’t be right to exclude him from this.”
A chuckles escapes Fox’s mouth.
“Yeah, I suppose not.”
Tag list: @maulusque @snap-p @menac-ika
If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.
Assorted Clonecest Fics - Unresolved Feelings (Fox/Wolffe) | M
There’s always been an unspoken thing between them; everyone knew about it. Since they were but cadets on Kamino, Wolffe and Fox have always shared something special, something they didn’t share with the others.
Not that they didn’t love their brothers, because that would be far from the truth, but they shared a special bond, something they were very jealous of. It was one of the few things they kept for themselves.
When news of their deployment arrives, they’re all overtaken by joy. They’ll finally put their training to use!
There’s only one problem, however, something they all suspected was going to happen but still hoped that it wasn’t the case: they’ve been deployed into different battalions. While Wolffe will be fighting on the frontlines, Fox will be stationed as the head of the Coruscant Guard.
As the rest of their batch begin to cheer for Fox and tease him about getting the easiest job, Fox feels like he’s dying inside. This isn’t want he wants at all! He wants to fight with his brothers, not being stationed in a safe place protecting rich assholes!
He knows already that he won’t be seeing his vode as frequently as he always did, and the idea of it makes his skin crawl. Little gods, he won’t be able to see Wolffe anymore!
They look at each other, and it’s obvious that they’re thinking the same thing. They should say something about it, but it’s hard to do so while the rest of their batch is still there with them. Maybe they’ll get a shot at it in private.
Words never come easy, but maybe this time… maybe this time they’ll manage. Who even knows if they’ll ever get another shot at it.
No, they have to talk this time, they have to sort out their feelings and not let things unsaid like they always do. It’s today or never.
It’s after everyone has retired for the night that Wolffe grabs Fox’s arms. At first he looks like he’s about to say something, but then he closes his mouth, simply dragging Fox to his pod; his intentions are obvious to the other, who tags along without hesitation.
The night is still young, and since it will be their last truly together, they shouldn’t waste it. Yes, they should make it count.
There’s a certain viciousness in the way Wolffe marks him this time: he knows that there’s the possibility that this is their last time together, and he wants these marks to last, he wants Fox to feel them for ages. Fox cries out as he draws blood, but he doesn’t stop him.
Besides, when he sinks his nails against Wolffe’s back as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts, he’s doing it for that exact same reason: he wants Wolffe to feel the burn every time he’ll have to put his blacks on.
There are words that should be said, but the only sounds that can be heard is the sound of skin slapping against skin, of Fox moaning, of Wolffe groaning. These pods are uncomfortable as kriff and tight, but at least they’re sound-proof, or they should be according to what the Kaminii told them, but it’s not like they’d care about being heard.
Fox mutters Wolffe’s name so softly, and he hopes that it can be enough, but how can that even be worthy of the ocean of emotions he’s feeling?
He tries to talk, he really does, but all comes out are broken moans as Wolffe pushes and pushes without stopping. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, but Fox wants even more. He wants to feel the imprint of Wolffe against him forever.
He grabs his ass, pushing him further against him, whimpering at the feeling of his cock sinking deeper inside him.
“Wolffe, please.” Something. Anything.
He shivers at the feel of Wolffe’s lips gently pressing against his forehead.
“I’ve got you.”
Fox doesn’t leave Wolffe’s pod even after they’re done, not something that he usually does, but this is their last night together so they both stay inside, pressed almost uncomfortably close to each other, but they know that despite everything they will miss this.
“Wolffe…”
This is the right moment, he can feel it. It’s time to finally open up, to resolve this tension between them, to admit everything.
“What?”
C’mon, tell him!
“… Nothing.”
General Plo Koon, Wolffe’s new general, is the first one to arrive on Kamino the next day. He looks kind and respectful; Fox hopes he won’t mistreat Wolffe or any of his vode.
He wants to call for him, he wants to kiss him one last time before letting him go, but he knows he’s not allowed to do it, not with so many people around them. He had his chance and he blew it already, he’s not going to get another one.
Wolffe turns just once, eyes on Fox. They stare at each other without saying a word, then Wolffe marches on, following his new General.
Even if they meet again, things are going to be different, they are going to be different. It won’t be like it once was, that’s impossible
There’s nothing they can do about it, just as there’s nothing they can do about the feeling of loss that is eating them from the inside.
