A little Rebelcaptain ficlet for Day 4 of Fic Advent. ;)
When Cassian looks up and realizes that he and Jyn have somehow found themselves beneath a rather large sprig of mistletoe, his eyes go wide with surprise and his stomach lurches.
“Well,” he says, swallowing thickly, eyes still fixed firmly on the doorframe above Jyn’s head. “This is… um. Unexpected.”
Puzzled, Jyn turns around and looks up, following the direction of his gaze.
She freezes when she sees what he’s looking at.
“Oh,” she says after a long pause. Her cheeks have gone nearly as pink as the pretty sweater she’s wearing tonight. (It hugs her slender curves everywhere Cassian longs to touch her, that sweater. But he can’t let himself think about that right now.) “When Bodhi invited us to his Christmas party I didn’t think he was going to… you know.”
Jyn shrugs, and gestures vaguely around Bodhi’s garishly decorated apartment.
Cassian nods, understanding. “Right. Going the whole nine yards with decorating, or… whatever this is.” He tries to laugh but all that comes out is an odd, strangled noise. “It’s, um. Not really Bodhi’s style, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” she agrees quickly. Even though they both know perfectly well that doing something just like this – throwing a Christmas party chock full of corny decorations, with mistletoe hanging from just about every doorframe – is exactly Bodhi’s style.
When Jyn begins to study her fingernails but neither says anything else or moves away from the mistletoe, Cassian watches her carefully, trying to work out from her expression whether she thinks this unexpected development is a good surprise or a bad surprise.
Does she… want him to kiss her? She’s kind of been acting like she does, laughing at his stupid jokes and making sure he’s been within arm’s reach most of the night.
Then again, he’s known her for six months now. They’ve been best friends for the past two. Surely she would have done something by now if she were interested in him like that. Wouldn’t she? Jyn isn’t one to mince words or act shy when there’s something she wants.
Cassian tries to tune out the rest of the party, the odd look Jyn’s giving him right now – everything around them – as he tries feverishly to make up his mind.
“Well…” he says eventually. He nods, deciding that caution is, in situations like these, usually the best course of action. He chuckles a little, hating how nervous it makes him sound. . “I guess now we know Bodhi likes Christmas decorations more than anyone we –”
Jyn cuts him off by grabbing him, hard, by the lapels of his green collared shirt, and pulling him down into a decisive kiss. It’s awkward and sudden, and not at all graceful, with noses bumping and knees knocking together. But it doesn’t take long for Cassian to close his eyes, wrap his arms around Jyn, and sink into what he’s been wanting for so long.
Somewhere off in the distance he thinks he can hear Baze and Chirrut cheering. He pays them no mind.
“Mmm,” Jyn says after a long moment, pulling away. “So. What was it you were saying about Bodhi?” Her words are little puffs of air against his lips, and he laughs breathlessly.
“Nothing,” Cassian says. He smiles sheepishly at her, and rests his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes. “Nothing whatsoever.”
She smiles back at him. “Good,” she says, before kissing him a second time.
Soooo...It’s not exactly the first fic I made, but it is the first voltron fic I wrote (and it has to be klance). It has flaws, grammatical mistakes and it’s difficult to read, but there it is. I hope you can enjoy it <3
Summary: they are head over heels for each other, but they don't know it until someone (Lance) screwed up (but not too much!).
Patience yields focus. That was what Shiro told him and he swears to god he tries to remember it every time Lance is obviously flirting with some girls and fails. Every time he comes to his arms crying about how he was rejected or dumped. He swear to god he tries so hard not to lose it every time he success and tells him All. The. Details. Of course his crush is nonsense and every day it’s dying more and more (“kind of”).
Why was he stuck in the eternal-friend zone? Not because Lance wasn’t into boys, but because Lance wasn’t into him. And he could do exactly nothing about it and it was ok because, besides one favor or two, Lance owes him nothing.
Pidge calls him a masochist for keeping himself trapped in what it calls “The Circle”. Keith couldn’t deny this, he was smart and a lot of things more, but now he just feel hopeless, like a lost child and that’s it. That’s the reason behind why when Lance call him during the afternoon (“just a bit drunk”, in his own words) to invite him to a party, he couldn’t say no.
Even thought Lance said he would pick him up, Keith couldn’t trust this statement. He knows how much time takes to the guy to get ready, so he decides to do it backwards.
There was still one hour left and Keith has already arrived to Lance’s place. "Fuck”, he thought. First, for arrive so early. Second, because when he was about to knock on the door someone opened it. And clearly, this someone has to be Lance, who was picking up the trash. Usually Keith has at least something to say, but now the only thing he could articulate was an almost inaudible “hi”. Lance was a bit surprised, but in a good way and the most important part is that he wasn’t angry. It’s true the fact that more than friends they look like absolute enemies and they’re often for each other’s throat. Besides this, they do really care for each other and there’s no way Lance could be angry for this kind of stuff. The thing is, Lance hardly get angry, it’s most like he just burst in loud complaining, but usually it’s never more than that.
Once Keith entered the house the show starts, Lance just has finished with the chores, now he has to prepare himself for the party and he needed assistance.
- I can’t understand you – Keith said while Lance was changing clothes. They’ve been at least 20 minutes at it, but actually couldn’t tell because there’s no clock to check this for sure.
- That attitude of yours is what is keeping the ladies away from you. That and the mullet, probably – Lance was abruptly interrupted by a flying shirt.
- Who cares about the mullet, you dick. That was not what I meant at all!
- Then what is it? – Lance had genuine interest on this.
- You are always late because you spent most of the time trying to look good and…And it’s not like you didn’t make it, but why? People probably would reject you anyways… - flying trousers interrupt Keith this time – Dude! I’m serious, it wasn’t my intention, and I’m just curious – said Keith with a subtle bush on his face.
- Some things are simpler than others, young padawan, you never know when the right person will be in the right place, so better be prepared – he blinks an eye to Keith, who was absolutely not amused by that answer, but needed some distraction. It wasn’t an easy task for him being in this situation with his crush and usually he would do something stupid, but the voice of reason keeps him calm. “Patience yield focus, patience yield focus…” – Plus! I like to look great and if you admitted so, it means I’m not in the wrong way. Some of us don’t have anything else to be proud of…
- That’s not true – Keith said in a lower voice.
- What?
- Nothing – he replies crossing his arms. He wasn’t sure if Lance heard him or not, but who cares? Not him. And even if he did, he would forget easily everything when another pretty girl comes to his way. “Fucking pretty people” thought Keith, and then shakes his head to come back to his mantra “patience yield focus”. But the truth is he was slowly losing his patience since a long time.
It wasn’t on purpose, maybe he was a bit eager, but he has been hopelessly waiting for almost three years. He looks at Lance, being more and more drunk, little by little, but somehow achieving to look as gorgeous as ever and he couldn’t help but think it was probably time to move on. Maybe he was way out of his league. And who the fuck needs love anyways? He should do stuff, have fun by himself, trying to focus on his grades, his career, do whatever…A snap makes him come back to the reality, they had a party to attend to.
- Come on, emo boy, let’s move – Keith couldn’t help but laugh. For Lance, Keith smiling was almost as terrifying as an angry Keith, but he likes this smiling Keith the most.
Five seconds. No less, not more. He’d like to say he was exaggerating, unfortunately he wasn’t.
Five second was the amount of time that took Lance to leave him alone to go flirt with girls (because “boys were a bit complicated”). What was the point to invite him, if he was going to leave him by himself on the crowd?
Patience yields focus…
Apparently there was a girl interested enough in Lance to sit with him for what? Thirty minutes? One hour? Who knows, this only makes time slower. Maybe was the perfect time to drink another beer.
Patience yields focus…
Oh boy, they’re having fun; good friends exist for this kind of stuff… What if he calls someone? Or…He could just keep drinking, this time directly from a bottle without label. Assuming by the taste is rum mixed with something.
Patience yields focus…
It’s so good Lance finally could get a date. That’s what he would say if he didn’t know how this ends, and this usually is with Lance being dumped sooner or later. But hey, who knows? Maybe this was forever. He can’t tell which was worse…And drink another glass of who-the-fuck-knows-what-is-in-the-bottle.
Patience yields focus…
What time is it? Someone talk to him, but it wasn’t relevant. He couldn’t remember what he said but the girl for sure suggested that it was enough for him. That it would be better if he just leave already because obviously he wasn’t enjoying this. He couldn’t tell if this was real or not, but look, they ARE kissing. Awesome.
Patience yield f...
- FUCK THIS! Fuck this and everyone, I’m leaving – he said to no one. The girl already left and Lance was too busy to notice.
Keith could consider himself lucky to be on holiday, other way; he would be clueless and probably couldn’t even leave the bed, neither moves his ass to the college.
The only thing he was actually answering was messages from everyone except from Lance, and he was saying just the necessary stuff like “I’m ok” or “I’m fine, thank you”. Besides, he has plenty of missed calls an messages, all from Lance. He can tell he has come to his house, but he wasn’t in the mood to face this conversation. And even if he does so, he could picture where this leads: Lance apologizing and then talking immediately about the girl. Or not this girl exactly, probably other girl, or boy… And fuck, he wasn’t ready at all, but wasn’t even in the mood to cry either (at least not again). Not to take any guest. Clothes everywhere, he couldn’t remember if they were clean or not; dishes in the sink (but they were on the table too; on the floor, even in the bathroom); his room was a total mess, but hey, who cares? Not him.
It was almost a week since that night and still feel like it was a few hours ago. He keeps being attacked by the flashbacks: Lance leaving him for the first girl who passes by, Lance flirting with the girl, Lance kissing the girl, Lance, Lance, Lance…
And as if it was some kind of magic, someone knocks on the door. Judging by the knocks IT HAS to be Lance. Does he really has a secret power or was this guy similar to Beetlejuice?
He can perfectly hear the other voice of the reason, Pidge, telling him that he has to open the door because it was now or never. It has been almost a week, everything is crumbling, nothing has any sense, and he has absolutely nothing to lose, so why not give a try? That was the last thought he had and he goes for the door, because if he keeps thinking, he’d probably regret it. That’s the best way, he thinks; sometimes you have to think carefully before act, and sometimes you have to act before you regret it.
The second he opened the door he didn’t look, but he can feel Lance’s face distortion. The vision of Keith wrapped in a blanket and completely messed up was something, and not a good something. Keith, who usually was ready to beat the crap out of you if you said something about his mullet, which was constantly fighting, laughing at dumb puns and always keeping his place organized…
The guy was clueless, but he doesn’t need to be a genius to know that Keith wasn’t feeling good. He had some ideas, but no evidence whatsoever.
- Keith… You look… - he wasn’t sure if he should say it. Should he hug him? Should he leave? No, that wasn’t an option. Should he let himself in? Should he…?
- Lance, what’s the matter? – Keith said in a hardly audible tone.
- Can you…? No, can I…? I mean, hey, buddy…Can I come in? – Keith didn’t answer, but moves to let the guy in.
Lance didn’t say anything yet, he just look at his place in silent. He wasn’t the kind of person who keeps his place in order, but this was ridiculous even to him.
- C’mon Keith, I’ll help you to clean this up…
- Don’t… -Keith interrupted – I don’t need it, I was going to do it, but you just came here and I…
- That was a terrible lie – Lance interrupted this time, smiling just a bit – Now tell me what’s wrong – he said putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder.
- I… Uh…I’m not sure, of course I was mad, but I don’t think I know anymore – He looked at his hands for answers. It was true, he was mad, he was drunk, he broke a few things, he didn’t get out of bed, but now it doesn’t matter. The party was already over, why he keep feeling like this?
- Keith, look… - in the absence of any gesture, he took Keith’s face with his hands to make him meet his eyes – I… I’m not brilliant and I’m just assuming here. I can’t tell if this is related or not, but I’m sorry for what happened at the party. I know I shouldn’t have done…Keith, look at me!
- Lance, as I said, I WAS mad, but I’m not sure, you know? I’ve already thought about this; first, you apology and then you’ll talk about the girl and you know what else? I don’t care! I couldn’t care less; this is too much to handle it… I…- he pauses when he realizes how loud and fast he was talking – I’ve been trying for too long, but you’re such a dick and I can’t take this anymore – Lance was just a bit confused now – I don’t wanna hear from the girls or guys you’ve been, neither from you. Like, never again… - He hated having betrayed himself through the voice. It heard like he was about to cry and he knows it. And he also knows that Lance knows it too.
- After the kiss I kinda realized that you weren’t there – said Lance looking at the floor – And I felt like a monster, I look after you in every place, but you weren’t there…And for God’s sake don’t check your phone, I leave some…Uh…Chessy messages on it… - he said hoping that Keith couldn’t hear him, but he did and before Lance continues he already runs for the phone.
Lance chase after him, knowing what will happen and they fought a bit in the room throwing pillows, towels, covering themselves with the sheets…
- Lance, you prick! It’s MY phone, those are MY messages – Keith said trying to tackle the guy through the sheets, but Lance was surprisingly strong in the weirdest moments.
- WHY THE FUCK YOU DIDN’T HEAR THEM BEFORE!? IF SOMEONE IS BEING A PRICK HERE ARE YOU! – He fights through the sheets, but just end up tangling himself – Crap!
- If you don’t want me to hear them why you leave them in the first place!? – Keith thinks he grabs Lance’s hair, but wasn’t sure. And perfect, now the both of them were tangled.
- Because I…I was worried! I thought you’ll never talk to me and…
*Beep*
Somehow Keith manages to put the voicemail sound in loudspeaker. The adrenaline of the fight leave both of them tired, but now he couldn’t care less about their hearts racing nor about how close they were because of the stupid sheet. He just wanted to know, and he’ll probably face the consequences later.
First message.-
“Hey buddy, this is Lance…Of course it’s me, I’ve called you plenty of times already. Uh…I just wanted to know if you’re alright? I know I was an asshole for inviting you and leaving you there…It’s just…Never accept any offer from me again, not if I’m drunk, and also, uh…Just answer please, I need to tell you something.”
*Beep*
Second message.-
“Keith, I know I already left you a message like five minutes ago, but I’m worried as hell so pick up the phone, please? I don’t even know if you’re alive and I’m starting to panic. Actually I think I’m pretty sober now, so please say something, please…”
*Beep*
Third message.-
“Shiro, Hunk and Pidge didn’t have any fucking idea if you’re alive or not. They told me to wait until tomorrow. I mean tomorrow in the morning. I mean, in the afternoon I guess, you’ll be tired and mad, probably. Oh, they told me I was an absolute idiot, and that was the soft thing they said to me…I’m just gonna do what they said, but I don’t think I can sleep, so if you heard this and its late you know you can call, I don’t care if you wake me up or not, so…Good night I guess?”
Keith started to have fun with these and the fact that Lance was covering his ears was funnier.
*Beep*
Four message.-
“Did you know there is a turtle that is now in some kind of turtle-wheelchair because it has a lot of sex? I don’t know, I think this turtle is my spirit animal now, just if you...I mean forget it. I’m out, soooo out….”
- Lance…What the fuck!? – said Keith laughing loudly and it makes Lance feel a lot better.
- I was worried! I need to kill time so I was surfing on the net…Oh c’mon Keith, stop this… - Lance beg, completely blushed.
*Beep*
Five message.-
“Oh, look! It’s 1pm! I was wondering why you haven’t checked your phone? Maybe because you’re mad at me of course, but I need to know…Should I go to your place? Did I already say sorry? I think I didn’t, oh my god, I’m so sorry Keith, I’m an asshole, please say something…”
- Wait, where you crying? – Keith asks concerned.
- KEITH, PLEAAASEEEEE…
- I think I can consider forgiving you if we keep listening… - Keith said with a smirk.
- Oh my god… - It was the Keith he misses so much, but at WHAT cost…
*Beep*
Six message.-
“So…Uh…Everyone tells me that you are alive. Probably not alright, but alive…It is ok if I come to your place? Because I’m on my way to…Actually I’ve been outside for like, 15 minutes, could you just open the door? I want to see you…I need to see you, Keith”
*Beep*
Seventh message.-
“You know? I don’t know why I keep doing this if you’re not hearing them anyways; I guess I still have hope. I come to your place again and you didn’t answer and…I’m starting to think you hate me, but…That’s not true…Isn’t it?”
*Beep*
Eight message.-
“Guess who’s been outside your door and you didn’t answer. Again. I’ll give you hints: is tall, blue eyes, brown hair and it’s a complete asshole. It was me! Lance! Shiro told me I should give you time, but I’m…Keith please…This is killing me…”
*Beep*
Ninth message.-
“This is crazy but Pidge already told me that you have a crush on me? Like, from a long long time, is that true? Please tell me if it’s truth because I had this stupid crush on you since like forever and oh my god this is SO stupid, we are so stupid…I AM so stupid, Keith, I do need you, so please…”
- Wait, you what!? – Keith feels like exploding.
- You already hear it…
- Lance! – Keith demands
- Ok, look, I’m in love with you – Lance said trying to put himself in a better position, but oh god, why do they have to had that stupid fight over the phone? Now everything is even more awkward…- I’m…I just don’t know what to do with it, I just think if we go to parties together and then we both get drunk enough we’ll probably could blame the alcohol or something? I already told you I’m not brilliant…And also…I… - Lance tries to look the guy in the eyes, but couldn’t. His face was burning and it was embarrassing enough to have Keith so close, only separated by a sheet. Everything was just too much – I thought you were looking to someone else…
- What? Lance, I…Why? – Keith was the confused one this time.
- It was pretty obvious to see that you had a crush on someone, but I was oblivious enough to not notice that it was me. Plus, since I already have a crush on you I just assumed you weren’t interested in me and…Tried to make it disappear hitting on random people, but it didn’t work…
- Lance, I…
- So…If what Pidge said is true… - he interrupted – And…If and only if you don’t hate me by now… - he gulps – I think this is a good time to let me now…
Keith blinks once, twice…And before anything else he remembers: if you keep thinking, you’ll regret it. His body moves on his own when he reached Lance’s hair with his left arm and pulls him closer for a kiss. It was a sloppy and desperate kiss, but it was exactly what they needed. Lance keep talking through the phone in loudspeaker, but neither of them could care, they were too busy fighting again through the clothes and sheets and all the mess in the room.
Sometimes, patience yields focus, but opportunities never hits you when you wanted to. Because you can’t count on something you don’t have planned, opportunities just appear in an inconvenient place, like in a messy corner of the word. And Keith swears to god he just loves this.
*Beep*
Last message.-
“Keith, I think I’m seriously in love with you. I’ve been…From a long time so…I just wanted to let you know. I’m sorry.”
Jyn wakes with a startto the feel of Cassian’s cool, cool palm against her forehead.
He frowns, and takes his hand away far toosoon.
“You have a fever,” he says, the wordsclipped, his jaw clenched. “It’s very high.”
Jyn struggles to situp so she can protest his diagnosis – because she isn’t sick; she can’t be sick, there isn’t time – but he’squicker than she is. No sooner does she get herself halfway propped up againstthe pillows than he’s at her side, easing her back down again.
“Stop it,” she mumbles. “I’m okay.” Butin all her moving around the blankets have fallen to her waist and now herteeth are chattering, belying her claim.
“I won’t stop,” Cassian replies curtly. “Andno, you are not okay.”
He sits down beside her on the narrow bed, thebony crest of his hip pressing up against her side.
“Don’t you have someplace you need to be?” she asks. Because he must. A glance at the clock tells her he’s been back from hismission less than two hours. Draven must be chomping at the bit to get him intothe debriefing room.
“I do,” Cassian agrees. He takes her hand inhis, and she shivers at the sensation of his too-cool fingers interlacing withhers. “It’s right here.”
Jyn doesn’t have the strength to argue thepoint further, and she groans miserably in spite of herself.
“Oh, Jyn.” Cassian stretches out on the bed and wraps his arms around her. Only when she buries her face in his neck does she feel his body begin to relax.
He chuckles softly. “I’lladmit this is not the post-mission reunion I’d hoped for,” he murmurs, tuckingan errant lock of her hair behind her ear. “But I’m here.”
Jyn mumbles something incoherent in responseand is asleep again in seconds.
When she wakes in themorning he is gone, the faint but unmistakeable scent of his soap still lingering on her pillow.
Trick or treeeeat! (Rebelcap naturally, but go Wild) thank youuuuu!! Xoxo
“Look out!”
Jyn looks up, her heart hammering in her ears, at the sound of K-2′s shrill warning.
But it’s too late. By the time Jyn notices Cassian, standing less than ten feet away, his hand cocked behind his head like he’s about to lob a live grenade, she’s already got a face full of the slushy snowball he’s apparently been preparing for her while her attention was fixed firmly on the horizon.
“What the – what –?” she splutters, icy cold water dribbling down her cheeks and chin.
Cassian has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“I could kill you for this!” Jyn shouts, furious. Because, yes: she is furious. And no, she is not tempted to start laughing, too – because stealing a moment to play in the snow like children while they’re supposed to be on patrol and they’re in the middle of the coldest planet in the entire galaxy is absolutely not one of the funniest, most light-hearted moments she’s experienced in what feels like several lifetimes.
This is totally unlike Cassian. He’s usually as serious as the dark plague. What’s come over him?
Cassian sobers a little as he walks towards her. But he’s still smiling. “I know you could kill me, Jyn,” he tells her. He reaches up, and brushes off a bit of the snow still sticking to her coat with the palm of his hand. “But you won’t.”
He leaves his hand on her shoulder for a very long moment. Despite the frigid night air Jyn can feel the heat of his touch all the way down to her skin.
She swallows, her irritation with him mostly and inexplicably gone now, replaced by such an unexpected surge of affection for this idiot man it nearly takes her breath away.
She meets his gaze. “You’re right. I won’t kill you.” She cocks an eyebrow. “But I will get my revenge.”
His smile grows. “You’ll have to catch me first,” he challenges. “And I’m fast.”
—-
In the end, she does catch him. He finds he doesn’t mind.
Dawn breaks cold on Fest, and with it comes a damp, inescapable sort of chill that seems to seep all the way down to Jyn’s bones no matter how many thick layers she puts on in the morning, or how long she stands by their fire at night.
But here, in the soft bed she shares with Cassian, it is always warm.
“Mm,” he mumbles against her collarbone when she moves to get up. He tightens his hold on her, and gently eases her back down to the mattress. “Where are you going?”
She turns in his arms so that she’s facing him. She blinks, trying to see. It’s still very dark. The earliest rays of sunlight are only just beginning to filter in through the thin slats covering their windows. But by now Jyn knows every contour of his face by heart, and has memorized the expansive network of fine scars covering his chest with her fingertips, lips, and tongue.
Even without the light she can see him.
“The sun’s rising.” It’s the only answer she gives him. He knows as well as she does that she cannot sleep once dawn arrives. For Jyn Erso, old habits die very hard.
He nods against the top of her head, understanding. This is a conversation they have had nearly every morning since the war ended and everything else began. “You need to work on that, Jyn,” he says, gently, his voice still thick with sleep. “There’s nowhere you have to be right now.”
With that, he pulls her even closer. She can feel the warm, comforting heat of him through the thin cotton fabric of his sleeping clothes. The feel of his warm, strong arms around her lulls her, soothes her, just as it always does.
Jyn closes her eyes, allows herself to surrender to it.
“Okay,” she whispers in the dark.
I’ll try, she doesn’t say.
Jyn doesn’t know what a life spent standing still will be like. Even now, six months after the war.
But for Cassian – her anchor through it all; and a man who, she suspects, is just as scared as she is – she will try.
How nice. I finally have the chance to go trick or treating :) For Rebelcaptain please oh and Happy (early) Halloween.
“They did it!” a voice Jyndoes not recognize cries out from the corridor.
There is a chorus of happyshouts and cheers that follows, so loud Jyn half-wonders if the entireRebellion is right outside Cassian’s room in medbay, celebrating.
But Jyn pays them littlemind.
Her full attention isfocused, instead, on Cassian. His dark eyes – open at last – follow her everysmall movement. And his hand, finally free of the tubes and wires that kept himalive for so long, clutches hers, stroking small circles on the back of it withhis thumb.
Right now, there is no DeathStar, no Rebellion. There is only him.
“You’re awake,” shemurmurs.
He’d still been unconsciousjust two hours ago; had been unconsciousever since they were rescued from the brink of death on Scarif. As muchas she’d refused to admit it to any of the medical orderlies who tried, andfailed, to coax Jyn away from his bedside – to encourage her to get some restso she could recover from her own serious injuries – she had, if she was beinghonest, nearly given up hope Cassian was ever going to wake up.
But against all odds, he cameback to the Rebellion.
He came back to me, she thinks fiercely, then shoves the thought aside.
She watches him watch her, a smallsmile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’mawake.” His voice sounds hoarse, nearly broken from more than two weeks ofdisuse. Jyn isn’t sure she’s ever heard a more beautiful sound. His smilegrows. “Guess it’ll take more than a Death Star to end me.”
She smiles back at him.
“The Death Star has beendestroyed!” comes another voice from the hallway, as as though the speaker hadheard Cassian’s quip and felt it merited a response. “Skywalker did it!”
The crowd’s excitement is apalpable thing, even through the giddy, tentative fog of joy Jyn feels here inthis small, private room.
Cassian squeezes her hand,the gentle pressure feeling like nothing so much as a promise.
“Skywalker did it,” herepeats quietly, eyes reverent.
She nods. She swallows downthe lump in her throat. “He did.”
He beams at her. “We did it, Jyn,” he whispers. “We did it.”
They sit together in silencefor what might be hours, her hand still in his hand, eyes looking and touching himeverywhere her hands dare not roam. Her heart is a dull roar in her ears as theRebellion continues its celebration right outside their door.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" for rebelcaptain :)
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
Cassian’s eyes were steady, kind – but the corners of his lips twitched up into a small smile after he asked the question, belying his otherwise serious expression.
Jyn’s eyes narrowed; he was enjoying this far too much.
“Of course I’m sure,” she said, sniffing, looking away from him and glaring down at her injured foot, propped up on a stack of pillows sent over from MedBay for this purpose. “It’s a fractured ankle, Cassian, not a blaster wound.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about your foot,” he said, his smile growing. “It’s the walls of this room that concern me. You’re not so great about keeping your fists to yourself when you get bored.”
She looked up at him again to find his eyes twinkling in amusement, a broad smile on his face. Irritated, Jyn clenched her fist against her thigh before she’d realized she’d done it – and the joyful, happy sound of Cassian’s laughter was almost enough to make Jyn forget how pissed she was to be on medical leave the next two weeks.
send me the first line of a fic and I will write five-ish more
'I can tell your mood by which jacket you're wearing' for cassian x jyn
“I can tell your mood by which jacket you’re wearing.”
Cassian blinks up at Jyn, his mug of caf halfway to his lips, utterly perplexed by her statement.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
She gives him a small, sly smile, and brushes a stray piece of lint off the shoulder of his leather jacket before continuing. “Your khaki jacket means you want to cut with the bullshit and get down to brass tacks, and your leather jacket” – she brushes off his other shoulder, meaningfully – “means you feel like what you’re doing, or what you’re about to do, is morally…. questionable.”
Cassian raises an eyebrow at her and thinks back on the unpleasant assignment Mothma just gave him. He tries (mostly unsuccessfully) to tamp down the embarrassed blush he can feel beginning to creep up the back of his neck.
“Well,” he says, trying to get some semblance of the upper hand here. “When I came to your quarters last night I wasn’t wearing a jacket at all,” he points out. “What did that tell you?”
She leans closer to him from across the mess hall table until her lips are just a hairsbreadth away from his.
“That you didn’t want to waste time with extra layers,” she murmurs, with a knowing smirk that could bring him to his knees.
send me the first line of a fic and I will write the next five
