June of Doom 2026 - Day 25
Masterlist | Ao3 Series
Title: "even hell can get comfy once you've settled in"
Prompts: "This is all my fault." Fool | Pushed Away | Touch Starved (AP)
Fandom: Star Wars - The Clone Wars
Characters: Fox & Ponds & Wolffe & Thire
Add. Tags: Wings AU, Feather Preening, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort
Note: Finally, this is the touch-starved one!! :)
@juneofdoom
Fox hasn't preened his wings in weeks. He simply doesn't have time to ask someone for help, nor to do it himself. He wouldn't mind some gentle contact either. Ponds is startled by the state of his vod's wings and enlists their brothers for some cuddles.
When Fox was first assigned to the command batch to train under Alpha-17, he was the equivalent of a 6-year-old child. They were sitting on the floor, Fox between Cody and Wolffe while 17 had explained to them the importance of preening and showed them how to take care of their wings.
At this point, Fox’ wings barely reach the length of his outstretched arms. His primaries and alulas are a deep-red colour, the feathers that are closer to his spine blend into a pinkish ombre and then a light beige colour.
A few years later, they will paint their armour in accordance with their primaries. Generations of his vod’ika will wear armour that carries the colour of Fox’ wings.
On Kamino, they take the preening very seriously. Not that that is very difficult. 17 shows them a few times, after that it becomes their favourite bonding activity.
After an odd growth spurt, Fox’ wings tuck on his shoulders painfully. He holds his head up high during training but at night he lets Wolffe tug him into his cot and rests on his chest, letting both his wings hang down to the floor.
After they ship out to different battalions across the galaxy, Fox rarely sees his batch anymore.
-----
Ponds stalks down the halls of the guard barracks. The first thing he realizes is that he stands out. Not just because his armour is coloured differently. The thing that really strikes him is the fact that all of his brothers here have the same patters painted onto their armours.
Ponds can’t tell them apart. It’s an uneasy feeling that makes his wings bristle softly.
The troopers eye him equally suspicious, dodging him, always two steps away and keeping their heads turned away from him.
Fox’ office lies quietly at the end of the hallway. Ponds approaches it and braces himself before he knocks on the door heavily.
There is no answer to his call, so he opens the door and steps inside, slowly taking in the scenery.
Fox is passed out at his desk, head resting on his arms with a few datapads stacked around him. Ponds has no idea for what one could require more than one datapad, but he has a feeling that the reason is depressing so he isn’t too eager to find out.
He approaches him quietly, sets his helmet down on the side and steps up behind Fox.
The other’s wings look rumpled, dull with a lot of broken primaries. It is a little hard to tell because of the colour of Fox’ wings, but Ponds is pretty sure that there is blood drying at some of the feather bases.
Carefully, he brushes his fingers over the first row of coverts, carding them back into place. He keeps his touch light, so he doesn’t startle Fox awake but the other doesn’t so much as stir, just stretches into the touch longingly.
Ponds makes a split-second decision and soon later, makes the first com call.
-----
Fox wakes slow and syrupy which means that he is neither waking from being knocked unconscious nor being awoken by the alarm for the next shift cycle.
A weight lies heavy on his chest. Did Hound let Grizzer get to him again? That di’kut.
Fox reaches up sleepily, but his hand doesn’t find the leathery hide of a reptile. Instead, his fingers find soft feathers, fluffy and well-preened. Oh. Another vod.
Slowly he opens his eyes, rubs his face with his hands before he attempts to push himself up on his elbows.
“No,” someone huffs firmly from beside Fox and throws an arm over his chest, effectively pinning him down on the mattress again.
Fox turns his head and catches the attentive gaze of Wolffe resting beside him, only dressed in his blacks and his wings stretched out comfortably. One broad, dark maroon coloured wing rests behind his back, the other is stretched out over Fox and Thire, who turns out to be the vod resting on top of his chest.
Looks like his youngest commander was in need of some cuddles. Clingy.
Fox huffs offendedly but lets Wolffe pin him to the ground. He didn’t even know that his batch would be on Coruscant any time soon. They haven’t been keeping up really.
“What are you doing at the homefront?” Fox inquires. It comes out sharper than he wants it to.
Wolffe ignores the rude tone. “Only me and Kote,” he answers. “And Ponds. He got special medbay clearance for cuddles from Camouflage. Something about being taken hostage but apparently Commander Tano got him out at the last moment.”
Hostage? Fox usually has no idea to where his brothers are deployed. He used to keep tabs on them but over the months, he kind of lost them out of sight. Not that they reach out a lot, but Fox prefers to blame himself.
He lifts his head effortfully to search for Ponds across the room. He finds that not only his batchmates but also a larger part of the guard command squad is spread out around the room, sleeping and dozing.
Right next to him, he spots Thorn who has his arms and his wings wrapped tightly around Hound. Grizzer is settled between in the free space by their legs, dragon wings and tail curled around Hound’s bucket possessively.
Buried under one of Grizzer’s wings, Fox can even make out the faintest sliver of Edee’s tiny, spotted loth-cat wings. Since Thire dug that beast out of the dumpster, it has become good friends with the massiff.
Across the room, in an actually bunk, Ponds and Cody are tucked close together, their wings hanging from the mattress on both sides. A small pile of mixed coloured feathers indicates that some preening happened before they had fallen asleep together.
They look relaxed, Fox couldn’t even tell there was something wrong with Ponds by the way he is calmly resting in Cody’s arms, tucked under his chin. He will have to check over the reports later to find out what exactly happened to their batchmate.
A little closer to the door, Tal has his back turned towards Fox, but he can identify him by the glowing amethyst colour of his slim wings that stretch out over two other vode. They seem to be a couple of Thorns tubbies, judging by their young, fluffy wings.
He whistles happily. Something about having all his treasured vode close to him stirs a healing warmth in his body. They rarely have the chance to cuddle and nest together in the guard, and the last time Fox got the same opportunity with his batch was after the battle of Khorm when Wolffe lost his eye and almost got killed.
Wolffe laughs lowly at the noise.
“We missed you, Fox’ika,” he notes and brushes his fingers through Fox’ curls.
Fox nods solemnly. “I missed you, too.”
A heartbeat of silence. Then he finally gets the courage to ask. “Why are you here?”
“Ponds called us. He was pretty dismayed by the state of your wings. Said you looked like you hadn’t preened them for weeks. You medic put you on leave, by the way. For the wing thing.”
Fox groans in annoyance but at the same time he suddenly notices how light his shoulders feel. There is no pain in his back whatsoever and his wings feel light and fluffy like they used to before he got deployed to Coruscant. Someone must have preened his wings thoroughly while he was asleep.
Maybe this isn’t too bad.
Thire shifts a little on top of him and buries his face against Fox’ throat. He takes another look around the room, his vode, despite all they encountered are still alive. His batch is still complete, despite all odds.
Scratch that, ‘not too bad’ doesn’t even begin to describe the thankfulness Fox is currently experiencing. This is the best he has felt in months.
Wolffe scoots a little closer to Fox, letting the other bury his face against his shoulder.
Fox tightens his hold around Thire and closes his eyes again.
The last thing he feels before drifting off to sleep is the warmth of nesting together.
