K2 has definitely almost spilt the beans about you know what
(sequel to Twenty-Six Minutes)
It was ridiculous these mandatory “celebrations” were even a thing. With a literal war going on, gathering in the base cantina to drink and “laugh” was at the bottom of your list.
You and Cassian shared that sentiment at least, stowed away from the larger crowd, nursing barely-touched… whatever was pushed into your hands, some sort of amber liquid that stung your nose.
The downside is that K-2SO was also pushed into the booth with you. Why was he even here? He couldn’t eat or drink anything.
You’ve been keeping your eyes down, trying not to make eye contact, and K-2 has at least been trying to make an effort not to appear miffed about it. As much as a droid can, of course, but K-2 has been blessed, or plagued, with incredibly human characteristics. Cassian could tell that you were feeling awkward and out of place, but to be fair, he did too. These weird, forced outings were neither of your things.
“And she just… wasn’t into it! Can you believe that?” Both of you and Cassian lift you heads up enough to roll your eyes at each other at Varon.
Varon was the local, self-proclaimed playboy, but the few that took pity on him never had anything pleasant to say afterwards.
“Uh, huh, sure Varon,” Wedge laughs, and turns away to talk to the bartender.
“I’m telling you! I pulled out all the tricks I knew, and still! Nothing,” Varon continues. At this point, no one was really listening to him anymore, either humoring him with a disinterested hum or even just a roll of their eyes. “Something was wrong with that frigid bitch, I swear.”
“Have you considered that you just didn’t know how to properly please her?” K-2SO speaks up, voice tinged with annoyance. You snap your head up to stare at him, tensing. Varon narrows his eyes at K-2, and gets up to walk over. The surrounding people look relieved at his departure, but others perk up at the prospect of drama.
“And what do you know about pleasing a woman, droid?” Varon asks.
“K-2,” Cassian hisses. Then to Varon, “Ignore him. He’s due for a maintenance check soon.”
“What?” K-2 complains, “Whatever I know, I’m sure it’s more than you do.” You kick K-2 under the table, but take a sharp inhale of pain when your toe hits the metal of his leg. He ignores you. “Would you like me to make a calculation on that chance? It’s not very favorable for you, just so you know.”
“I doubt that you’ve ever even seen someone naked,” Varon snorts. “Who the hell would willingly fuck a droid, anyways?” K-2 straightens up.
“Varon,” you bark, cutting off K-2, “fuck off!” K-2 shuts himself up, thankfully, but now Varon has his sights on you. “Just face that fact that everyone has been a pity fuck for you.”
Wedge chokes on his drink at the bar.
“Oh, c’mon baby,” he purrs. He leans on the table, right into your personal space, but you grit your teeth and refuse to let him pin you against the back of the booth. “Let me show you first hand what I can do. Then, you can make a proper conclusion, hm?” Varon reaches a hand to brush your hair back, but before he can touch you, he’s yanked away. Varon lets out an embarrassing squeak as K-2 grabs the scruff of his neck and practically throws him across the room.
“Should I report him for his behavior?” K-2 asks you, body half turned to look at where you were gawking at him. It’s the first thing he’s said to you since you left him in that meeting room.
“N-no, it’s… it’s okay, K-2,” you stammer. Your gaze flicks over to where Varon lays, dazed and confused. “I’m sure he learned his lesson.” He nods, and slides back into his seat next to Cassian, who looks very, very confused. You clear your throat, and take a tentative sip of your drink, and hope that Cassian doesn’t ask any questions. He fixes you with a stare.
“Is something going on between you and K-2?”
But Cassian is a very, very smart man.