Work Text:
As Kanan watched the ship that moments before had been their escape burst into flame as it crashed into the planet's surface, he lamented his life.
Is it me? He wondered. Maybe the universe was dedicated to destroy everything that he touched.
On the ridge next to him, Hera shivered subtly. "I sort of feel jealous of the ship," Hera commented, trying to keep the stutter from her voice. They hadn't had time to grab many supplies when they'd jumped ship, and unfortunately food rations rated slightly higher than the heated blanket.
He missed that blanket.
He looked at Hera awkwardly. Could he pull off moving closer for warmth without looking like a creep? More of a creep, he amended to himself. Hera was wrapping her arms around herself, pointedly not looking at him.
"We should find shelter," he said confidently. That's what people do. The weather wasn't too bad. It was survivable. Uncomfortable, freezing, possibly frostbite-inducing weather. But survivable.
Hera looked up towards the mountain. "There's a cave up there," she commented shortly.
Kanan followed her gaze and moved to pick up their bag of supplies. "Ladies first."
Hera gave him a sidelong glare, but she stepped in front of him.
Kanan smiled at her back, ignoring the slight thrill in his stomach as he watched Hera storm forward.
-
They'd made a 'fire'.
Kanan doubted the word was adequate. The low burning flame gave off no heat, no matter how close his hands got to the flame. He was beginning to wonder if it'd be worth it to set his hands on fire.
Hera was still shivering.
He looked over her sympathetically. Hera was staring at their meager flame.
He shifted closer to her. "You know," he began.
Her head darted up and she looked at him suspiciously.
He searched his mind for some cheesy pick-up line, but Hera wouldn't fall for it. Hera wasn't like other girls. Hera wasn't like anyone. So he opened his arms up. "Huddling will keep us warm." Then he shut up. Hera knew he was right.
He could see the warring emotions on her face. Then she leant into him, warmth spreading over his chest from where her body pressed against his. Kanan inched closer, his arms wrapping around her. He shifted his arms carefully to avoid her lekku, biting back a joke about how being naked would make this work better. He intertwined their fingers. Frostbite, he told himself. He was just protecting their extremities. He was being a hero, really.
Hera's eyes fluttered open. "Aren't you going to say it?" she asked in her low voice, the voice Kanan secretly called her 'playful voice'.
"Say what?" Kanan asked, genuinely confused.
"This would work so much better if we work naked," she quoted dutifully, and slightly sarcastically. Kanan wondered how many times she'd crashed on freezing planets. Maybe she was the one the universe hated.
"That didn't occur to me," he said glibly. "Though if you're offering..." He squeezed her hand tighter.
She let out a shaky laugh and buried her head into his chest. There was a silence and then...
"Can't you use the Force to warm us up?"
There it was. He hadn't even realised he'd been fearing it until she'd said it. Flashbacks, for just a second, overwhelmed him. The streets of Kaller. The fear. The hunger, the thirst, the overwhelming tiredness and the knowledge deep down, even though he hadn't recognized it then, hadn't understood it, that he could never go home. The desperate clawing in his stomach, searching the dumpsters of Plateau City for the smallest speck of food, the Force pulling at him but him having nothing to give it. Wishing desperately over and over again that the Force would provide for him, that the Force would stave off the needs his body craved to be filled. It didn't. He had been alone.
He sighed finally. "That's not how it works." Then again, he'd only been a Padawan for three months. There was a lot Depa never taught him. Never got the chance to teach him. Maybe the Jedi had special heat powers. It wouldn't surprise most folks. Listening to the early Imperial Propaganda, Kanan had been half convinced he had the ability to blow people up with just his mind.
Hera looked up at him carefully, sensing the mood change. "I'm sorry," she apologised.
He shook his head. "It's the past." He put on his trademarked grin. "What was that about getting naked?"
She rolled her eyes and gave him a put upon look. "Charming," she drawled, before looking back at their fire. "That's not going to last the night," she evaluated, doubtfully eyeing it.
"Because it's doing so much right now," he commented dryly.
She shook her head and pulled away to tend at the fire. Kanan instantly lamented the loss of her against him. He watched her carefully.
"Sooo," he began. "You do this often?"
"Tend poorly made fires?"
He had made the fire. "It's a miracle fire," he protested. "You should be in awe of my powers."
She slipped back into his arms. "Oh I am." She teased. "Next you can half cook the rations."
"The rations aren't supposed to be cooked," Kanan retorted. "If I half cooked them that's a hundred percent more cooked than most other people would even attempt."
Hera raised an eyebrow. "That's great maths."
Kanan nodded wisely. "Calculating how much effort I put in in comparison to other people is kind of a special skill."
"I'd noticed." She rolled her head from side to side. "It happens."
"Hmm?" He'd gotten distracted by the line of green skin along her jaw.
"Crashing on alien planets. It happens."
He blinked at her and pulled her closer. "I'm not even surprised."
Her eyes gleamed at him mischievously. Then a shadow clouded her eyes and she looked away.
"Ask."
Her head darted up. "Huh?"
He shrugged easily. "Whatever it is you're thinking. Just ask." He squeezed her arm. "I need you as my portable heater so I probably won't storm off in a huff."
"Probably," Hera repeated. She smiled at him. "As a Jedi," she looked toward the flame. "You probably crashed on a few planets yourself."
Kanan tilted his head back and rested it against the cave wall, considering. "Not really," he said finally. "Not when I was a 'Jedi'. Afterwards though," he shrugged again. "I crashed on my fair share of planets when I wasn't a Jedi."
There was another silence.
"Thank you," Hera said.
Kanan blinked his eyes open. "Hmm?"
"For sharing." Hera blinked her wide green eyes up at him. "I know it's hard for you."
He could make a joke. She'd made it easy on him. He could make a joke and just-
"Yeah," he said softly, looking at his freezing fingers, remembering the feel of the lightsaber in his hands. He'd left his saber back on the Ghost. That had been a mistake. But wearing the lightsaber still felt wrong. A lot of things still felt wrong.
But he missed it. He missed it all.
The life he could've led.
Hera's arm reached around his waist and pulled him closer, her leg draping over his. She looked down at the ground. "This is cheezy," she said.
He smiled at her. "You're telling me. All that's left is the cliched kiss." His grin widened, waiting for her rebuttal.
Instead she hesitated. Just a second.
A blink of an eye.
She hesitated.
And then she scoffed and moved her leg off him, facing the far wall. "Dream on."
"You thought about it," he accused her.
She snorted. "Well, you got the dreaming part down."
He moved so she was facing him. "Have I?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes ridiculously.
She couldn't help a laugh. "I think the cold is rotting your brain."
"Maybe you should kiss it better."
She hesitated again.
"That's twice," Kanan pointed out.
"Fine," Hera snapped, and before Kanan could react, her soft, frozen lips pressed against him.
He made a noise and moved closer on instinct, arms wrapping around her back as her cold hands clutched at his face as her tongue, the only real warmth he felt at that moment, pushed forward into his mouth.
They fell apart with a gasp.
Hera's eyes narrowed up at him. "Happy?"
"Very," Kanan said honestly, too shocked to come up with some shred fake nonchalance.
Hera opened her mouth, then compressed it into a thin line. "Fire's gone out."
Kanan turned his head. "So it has."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh you want me to do it," he said, falling back into teasing. "I thought my fires were poorly made."
"Practice makes perfect," she said, reaching out her hand blindly and picking up a stick. She pushed it against his chest. "Go ahead."
He grabbed the stick. "As you wish."
As he turned back to tend the fire, he wondered if maybe the universe didn't hate him as much as he'd thought.