Work Text:
...We didn't have no where to go
Waiting for the daylight to begin
Singer, save our secular souls
How can you have hope with no God?
We didn't give a shit about what they would say
And stayed up until the light turned our world grey
We caned our money like it was our last day
Two fingers up at those who won't miss us when we pass away
--
Jyn had forgotten how much she loved to dance.
When she was a child on Coruscant her kinesthetics classes had encouraged free movement, and it had been all her mother could do to try and drain some of her limitless energy.
She’d dance with the wind and the elements on Lah’mu, twirling around on the sand, arms outstretched, leaping and spinning in the air across slippery rocks she shouldn’t have been climbing on, holding Stormy by one of his spindly arms as he clattered and flailed in her orbit.
After Lah’mu she hadn’t danced so much, but in the movements of combat training she found a similar rhythm and freedom. A thrill went through her with every perfectly executed, fluid motion. As her walk grew taut and her shoulders knotted with coiled tension, she knew she could always release it all with the elegant sweep of arm and baton, or a pirouette weaponised with a boot at the end of it.
But although combat was like dancing, it still wasn’t the same. It had to be precise, and she had to be there, aware of every move and counter-move. It didn’t match the sensation of music coursing through her every vein, a bassline threatening to throw her heartbeat out of time, flashing colours in the darkness not a warning, not signalling the pursuit of the authorities, but bathing her in artificial starlight, sound and vision blasting her free of her surroundings like a sonic shower thrumming over her skin.
The last time she’d let herself go to the music she’d had to regret it shortly afterwards; empty pockets had been the unfortunate result of a few moments’ blissful freedom. But this time, Jyn was waiting for someone to put something in her pocket, or to hand something over, at least.
She was at the heart of an undulating crowd, all around her the bodies of different species moving like waves in the blue light. The dancefloor was in a vast cavern on an old mining station, a gathering place for anyone in the Outer Rim who wanted to escape the rest of the universe for a while; and an ideal place to receive or exchange information.
Waiting for her contact to slip past and leave a datastick on her meant that this was technically work; Jyn couldn’t quite relax utterly into the beat, but she had to look like she was relaxed, and that was enough for now. She extended her arms above her head, swaying her hips and flexing her neck, allowing her eyes to close for a moment as the bright lights pulsed against her eyelids. She was conscious of every bump and touch from the people around her, and none of them were intentional: no hand-off, no threat, no unwanted advances, just an off-kilter supplement to the rhythm filling the space already.
When she opened her eyes they met with Cassian’s for a brief moment.
He was her backup; he had a view of the floor from where he was and could signal her when it was time to make her way to one of the raised dancing areas, when their contact had arrived and would need to be able to spot her more easily.
Jyn let her eyes slide past him as though simply flattered by the attention of the DJ; she dropped her gaze to the side and a smirk slid onto her lips as she continued to move to the music. She told herself he looked ridiculous in his disguise: the large, tinted glasses and wide-brimmed hat of a nerf-herder would be enough to confuse any Imperials monitoring security footage this far out in the wilds of the galaxy.
But, ridiculous or not, the heat that rose to her cheeks at the feeling of his gaze on her was a different one to that generated by the hundreds of moving bodies around her. Even through the tint, the intensity of his stare was familiar enough to make her shiver, her own eyes drawn back to his mouth by the death stick held between his lips, his hand coming up now and again to steady it and remove it so he could exhale wreaths of smoke that turned violet in the low light.
Jyn turned side-on in the crowd, scanning the area for staff in the hope of a more cooling distraction.
A harassed-looking Zabrak was making her way through the crowd slowly, a drinks tray held above her, and Jyn wound her way in that direction. Soon armed with something alarmingly red and known as a Bespin Blaster, Jyn returned her attention to the music, delicately raising the straw in her tall glass to her lips.
The next track that came on was the first signal of two; it meant that Cassian had spotted their contact in the room and that Jyn needed to get out of the morass of bodies and make herself more visible somewhere. Taking another drink of the sickly, spicy alcohol, she glanced up at the DJ booth.
Cassian’s head was tilted against his shoulder as he held a set of headphones pinned there, and the blue lights flashed across the lenses of his glasses. He nodded slightly to the beat and moved his hands cleverly across the various controls in front of him, but his mouth was a serious line and Jyn caught his anxious glance as he checked she was responding to the signal.
Swaying her hips casually through the gaps between dancers and flashing smiles at those she squeezed past, Jyn headed for a raised part of the dancefloor, where a few bold patrons danced in clearer view of the others. At the moment there was a pair of twi’lek women, a shistavanen with a fluorescent headband squeezing his ears together, howling at the stalactites on the ceiling of the cavern, and a short human male with a clean-shaven head, who gazed up at the wolfman with awe as he danced in his shadow.
Jyn drained her drink and placed the empty glass on a ledge at the side of the room, offering her sweetest smile to the dancers on the platform. One of the twi’leks smiled back and extended a hand, so she accepted it and was pulled up beside her. The group moved around to accommodate her as the music changed key and Jyn threw her arms in the air and her head back, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the bassline.
Her bare arms were painted with glitter and fluorescents and even though she only wore a tank top and shorts over thin tights she could feel the sweat trickling down the column of her spine. When she smoothed her pulled back hair, swaying her head from side to side, the strands beneath her palm were cool and slick, and for once she’d made certain that no stray tendrils could escape to catch at the sides of her face, where glitter also sparkled to confuse identity scanners.
The twi’lek who had helped her up to the platform leaned towards her with a shimmy of her green-skinned, red-freckled shoulders, and a dangerous smirk on her full lips. “I love your war-paint,” she called in Jyn’s ear over the music.
Jyn grinned back fiercely and shot the woman a look through lowered lashes; behind her, the other twi’lek’s hands found her hips, and she had to force down the sudden tension that arose when the touch reminded her how naked she felt without her blaster or batons holstered at her side.
Inhaling the thick, wet air as deeply as she could, Jyn pushed back into the grip and beckoned the twi’lek in front of her nearer. She’d have to hope her contact didn’t mind getting close, but given that the dancehall had been her suggestion and not Jyn’s, it seemed a reasonable hope to have.
As the beat changed again, she darted a look across the dancefloor towards Cassian. He’d paused over the controls of the deck, his chin dipped towards his bare chest as he gazed across at her. The death stick in his hand smouldered, momentarily forgotten as he watched her. She thought she saw his tongue run swiftly across his lower lip, and her body pulsed hot again, her skin tingling with the heavy weight of his attention on her. She pushed back against the form of the twi’lek dancing behind her and ran her fingers over the cool skin on the backs of the hands on her hips, interlacing her fingers with the other woman’s and leading both of them in swaying, rhythmic steps to close the space between her and the twi’lek in front of her.
From the corner of her eye she finally noticed a point of stillness amongst the crowd. Waiting patiently by the platform, her back to them as she ostensibly surveyed the dancehall, was a pale-furred bothan. Her ears twitched busily though, and Jyn knew that this was her contact, and her attention was fully behind her, on Jyn and the others dancing on the platform.
The bothan held a drinks tray with a selection of brightly coloured, fizzing and smoking glasses on it. She handed an acid yellow concoction to a passing togruta, who poured a handful of credits into a pouch at her waist.
Jyn turned her face slightly towards the twi’lek behind her, and looked at the woman in front of her. “Drinks?” she mouthed over the beat, nodding her head in the bothan’s direction.
The twi'lek in front of her declined, but the one with her hands still possessively on Jyn’s hips agreed quickly, letting her touch trail reluctantly from Jyn as she slipped away in the direction of the platform’s edge.
She flexed her knees and jumped lightly down to the bothan’s side, negotiating two glasses of something as well as a bottle of water from her. As she took the bottle, she felt its uneven weight, her fingers exploring its surface to find where a datastick had been taped to the bottom. She nodded at her contact, who bared an appreciative fang as she accepted Jyn’s payment.
Jyn passed one of the drinks up to the twi’lek woman, downed her own and handed the empty glass back to the bothan, and then tried to ignore the twi’lek’s pout when Jyn feigned ignorance of her invitation to return to the podium. She frowned across the dancehall, unscrewing the water bottle with one hand, whilst the hand that steadied the vessel worked at the tape keeping the datastick attached.
She took a sip of the cool liquid once she’d palmed the datastick, and let her gaze rove over the crowd. No one appeared to be paying her undue attention. She raised the bottle and poured some water over her sweat-slick hair, feeling its cold tendrils work their way through to her scalp and map out routes down her neck, behind her ears, descending in pools and rivulets over her shoulders and collarbones to drop shiveringly down her cleavage, pushed between hot skin and her concealed kyber crystal.
She closed her eyes and made a show of fluttering the sticky material of her tank top away from her body before taking another sip of water and pouring another, final measure over her face.
Mingling with specks of glitter, the water followed the same contours, and Jyn plucked at her tank top again with the hand that held the datastick, deftly tucking it inside her bra-band with a thumb as she did so. She left the empty bottle on a ledge as she made her way towards the ‘freshers.
In the stark, blueish light of the refresher, she secured the datastick more carefully in a place where she wouldn’t fail to notice if someone tried to get their hands on it. The bassline thumped through thick stone walls to follow her there, and she found herself continuing to move to the music, her ears ringing a little in the quiet and her skin beginning to chill now that she wasn’t surrounded by other dancers and the hot air wreathing around them.
Jyn examined herself briefly in the mirror, curiosity winning out over the desire to return to the dancehall. The kohl around her eyes was smudged and blotched by the sweat on her skin, and her forehead looked large without her loose bangs to soften it. She scrunched her nose and ran a hand over her wet hair again before plucking at the curls forming around her hairline.
Her skin was flushed deep pink around her chest and cheeks, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened between the glitter and the fluorescent body paint. None of the scars from Wobani were visible under the paint, and she was satisfied to see muscle definition returning to her arms as her body recovered from the slow, post-Scarif healing process.
The cord of her kyber crystal necklace was a taut ‘v’ that dipped below the neckline of her tank top, the crystal itself tucked inside her bra-band with the datastick. She knew she should have taken it off for this mission, but couldn’t bear the thought of it lying abandoned, forgotten in some drawer or locker on a Rebel base should she not be able to return for it. It was a simple mission; she’d no reason to expect that she wouldn’t return, but the fear was there nonetheless, and the reassurance that wearing the crystal provided was equally palpable.
Cassian’s set would be ending soon and she supposed he’d be in a hurry to leave now that she had what they’d come here for. She knew herself that it would be safer to just take the datastick back to the ship rather than risk anything by keeping it about her person here. But the beat travelling through the cavern’s thick stone was infectious even out in the ‘freshers, and she found herself anxious to return to the anonymity of the crowd of pulsating bodies; to relax and celebrate the successful acquisition of the intelligence that was now tucked away inside her damp clothing.
She plunged eagerly back into the soupy air of the dancehall, reeling a little at the sudden onslaught of sounds and smells. At the deck, Cassian scanned the room, an anxious lift to his shoulders. Jyn pushed her way through the people until she was dancing right in front of his booth, her arms glowing pale in the strobe lights as she swayed with them held above her head.
When she opened her eyes at the end of an instrumental track she saw him staring right at her again, his posture relaxed now that he knew where she was. His lips curled happily around the end of the death stick that still hung from his mouth, and he raised long fingers to lift it clear, nodding and smiling at her through a veil of slow-dissipating smoke. Jyn felt her chest flush hot again, sending goose-bumps prickling along her confused skin. As he blew the smoke away he even began to mimic her sway, his hips out of sight below the deck, but the open shirt he wore billowing a little with the movement. Jyn ran her eyes down his chest, unable to repress a wicked smile as she thought about burying her fingers in the short hairs covering his pecs; tracing the direct line they pointed south, again below the edge of the deck.
A few tracks on, an impatiently twitching quarren entered the booth beside Cassian, who gestured to the next DJ to take over, stubbing out and casting aside the remnants of his death stick and retreating to the steps behind the deck. Jyn tried not to tense up as she continued to dance, but she could imagine what was to come: Cassian would catch her eye as he left the booth, and she’d know she was to leave at the end of the song. She’d meet him in the cold air and they’d take a speeder back to the ship and celebrate a successful mission with sluggish awkwardness away from the easy heat and closeness found in the dancehall. They’d see each other’s looks and be too uncertain of what they’d seen there to do anything. Sooner than she’d have liked, they’d have reported in to Draven, and the sound of their superior officer’s flat, pragmatic tones would be enough to kill off any interest Jyn had in making the mission a little less professional.
She blew out an exasperated breath and tilted her head back, letting the hot, heavy air of the dancefloor caress the skin of her throat. In the dark of the cavern it was so much easier to approach her interest in Cassian. She was already prickly with longing for the touch of another dancer, the memory of the twi’lek’s hands on her hips like a repeated taunt.
Outside the dancehall she’d recall all the reasons she didn’t want to rock the boat between them; she’d wrestle her feelings into obedience and tamp down on all her selfish desires. But here, at this moment, with the music filling her up and embracing her, she let herself admit how much she wanted Cassian close, in front of her right now; tactile and warm; dry-skinned amidst the sea of surging bodies; an anchor. Her palms felt empty and her throat was dry, but as the song reached its crescendo she opened her eyes and glanced at the side of the DJ booth.
He leaned against it, his own head tilted back and a rakish smirk on his lips. Jyn found his eyes through the yellow tint of the sunglasses he still wore and offered a minute shrug as she continued to dance.
Cassian pushed away from the side of the deck, but instead of turning with the unspoken order for her to follow, he began to move towards her.
Jyn’s breath caught as she kept her eyes low, pretending that she couldn’t feel his gaze on her as he slunk between the figures of other dancers, making a direct line for where she was. Maybe he was just going to lead her away now, having realised that she was enjoying herself too much to be expected to follow him. Jyn could hear her own pulse grow loud in her ears, in conflict with the music as he approached.
She was half-turned from him by the time he arrived, and she smelled the sweet smoke of the death sticks he’d had on him, felt the brush of his breath on her cheek, the touch of that ridiculous hat against the side of her head.
“You have it?” he murmured.
Jyn let herself move towards him, turning her face a little until she felt his hair and stubble brush against her skin. “I do.”
He moved in time with her, their bodies only touching lightly where he continued to lean over her shoulder. The absence of words stretched, and Jyn darted a swift glance at him. She could sense his hands hovering in the air at her sides; she seemed to feel his held breath. “Do we need to go?” she asked.
“Is it safe?”
She moved back another half-step, feeling him flinch as her body bumped against his. But he held his ground. Slowly, one hand settled on one of her hips, before the other one followed, pulling and pushing with her movement so she could feel him sway in time too. “It’s safe,” she told him.
“Where is it?” his lips tickled the skin of her cheek.
Jyn smirked and steeled herself. She took hold of each of the hands on her hips and guided them up the sides of her waist and around her ribcage, pressing his fingers to the soft curve under her bra-line. He couldn’t fail to feel the datastick through her clothing, and she thought she heard — below the bassline, under the sounds around them, through the ringing in her ears — a noise emerge from deep in his throat or chest. His eyes were closed behind the tinted lenses and he leaned his face close to her again. “I don’t think we need to hurry then,” he shifted to press his words directly into her skin.
His lips felt hotter than any part of her own body, burning a brand where they moved against her. A chill ran down Jyn's neck, as though she’d poured water over her head again, her senses muddled by the heat of dancing, the heat of Cassian’s closeness, the heat that was almost cold that sparked, lancing through her just above the apex of her thighs. A vibration of sound moved in her own throat and she leaned into his touch.
Cassian’s hands smoothed their way back down the front of her body, over the damp material of her tank top, contouring it to the skin of her ribs and belly. He crossed his arms around her, pulling her even closer to him so that they moved together as one. Whether she ground her hips back against him first, or he bucked forwards against her she didn’t know; she just wanted him as near as possible, she wanted him to know how close she wanted them to be, needing to admit it now, before she could think of a reason to stop herself.
Her eyes closed, head leaning back so that her cheek was against his, arms crossed over his, encircling herself, encircling him around her. The lights were like a distant storm through her closed lids, the music subdued, emanating from somewhere beyond the enclosed air in which she danced with Cassian.
There was no need to talk, to ask why or whether it could work, to fear the intensity she might see reflected back in his eyes. She’d not been able to be this close to him since Scarif, since whatever they'd seen in each others' eyes in the lift in the datastack. But they’d not spoken a word to each other, and she’d been so afraid of how fragile his body was, shivering with pain as she held him up, and her joy at seeing him alive and standing, still there for her, had become infused with grief at his injuries. But there had been no regret on his face, just a simplicity that drew her close, a need for her to hold his gaze, as though her touch, whatever he saw in her eyes, or the unspoken words balanced on her lips, might be enough to pull him through this after all … and she supposed it must have been.
Jyn gripped the bones of his wrists and with a deep inhalation she squirmed and turned in his arms, raising her own touch to the collar of his shirt, smoothing over the taut lines where his shoulders curved up to meet his neck. He looked down at her and a joyful smile overtook his lips, his hands readjusting on her waist, sliding up and down her back as he brought her close.
She smiled back, breaking into a grin and plucking the nerf-herder’s hat from him, replacing it on her own sweaty hair with an air of challenge.
His only reaction was to broaden his smile, and the appearance of a dimple in his rough stubble, combined with the intense look of the tinted glasses made a laugh burst from Jyn’s lips.
Cassian shook his head, a silent question as they swayed together. Even behind the yellow lenses his eyes were soft, amusement drawing kind lines around them. Jyn found it hard to hold his stare and let her eyes drop, bashfulness turning into mischievousness as she caught sight of his bare chest between the open front of the shirt he wore.
Her fingers slid from his shoulders, moving easily over the shiny, synthetic material that was so different to the normal scratchy cotton he wore. Holding her breath, but unable to resist tucking her lips inwards to wet them with her tongue, Jyn let her touch skip from the fabric to the bare skin of his chest. The warmth of him made her shiver as she ran her fingertips through the slightly rough, curly hairs covering his chest. She felt his laugh travel up her digits and arms and offered him another smile as she spread her palms, smoothing her touch down over the skin below his ribs, tracing the softer trail of hair towards his navel. Her touch left goose-bumps in its wake, but when she looked up again she was caught by his expression.
He lifted a hand from her for a moment to take off the sunglasses, stowing them in a pocket somewhere, and Jyn suddenly felt like a ship held in a tractor beam. The blue lights behind him cast his face into shadow but she still saw the glint of his eyes. Tilting her head back to meet his expression, Jyn moved her hands within the open shirt, sweeping around his body to close the distance between them again.
They agreed in the easy, wordless way they so often did when fighting together or planning together. Jyn pushed herself up on the balls of her feet and Cassian angled his head to duck below the brim of the hat she’d stolen from him. Their mouths met, already open, eager to taste what had only been imagined up until then.
Cassian’s hands rose to cup her jaw, his fingers soothing tracks through her tangled, sweaty hairline and his thumbs calloused and hot on her cheeks. Jyn pressed her body against him, pressed her tongue against his, pushing deep and demanding inside him, her hands squeezing the flesh of his lower back under his thin shirt. His stubble rubbed the skin around her mouth, but she leaned into it, needing him to know that yes she felt the same, yes whatever it was, yes she wanted this too, had wanted it for longer than she’d care to admit.
Jyn let herself bend into his hold on her, her hands travelling over the skin of his chest once more as she gasped a breath and drew her teeth over his lower lip. She felt his smile against her mouth as he shied away from another nip, instead planting a kiss on the dimple at the side of her own mouth, working his way up the contour of her cheekbone with touches of his lips until he grazed his own teeth along the hard, sensitive conch of her ear.
Jyn swore softly, bucking against him with a half-swallowed laugh.
The rest of the DJ set was somewhat lost on her; the pleasures of dancing alone eclipsed by the way Cassian fitted against her so well; the music drowned out by indistinct words between them that neither needed to hear to understand.
As the lights in the cavern began to go up, they waited with the crowds queuing to leave the dancehall. The speeders outside struggled to cater to the sudden demand, and Jyn’s patience wore thin as the sweat on her body cooled, despite Cassian’s arm around her waist.
“Let’s just walk it,” she grumbled eventually.
Cassian had reclaimed the nerf-herder’s hat from her and replaced the sunglasses. His shrug said that if she was happy to walk then so was he, so, buttoning his shirt, he followed her to the edges of the crowd and they slipped away into the dark streets leading towards the space-port.
Few other patrons of the dancehall had made the decision to walk, but in the chill air of the ex-mining station’s deep violet night Jyn’s priority was simply getting back to the ship, rather than considering why the alleys might be so unpopular with the dancehall’s other patrons. She and Cassian walked quickly, close together as they’d grown used to being, but prepared for anything. Their arms brushed with every other step and Jyn was alert to any noise beyond that of their own footfalls.
They were only a few streets from the space-port when the background drone of speeders and low-flying transports was broken by the inevitable sound of a scuffle in a side-street. Jyn exchanged glances with Cassian; he repressed a glint of uncertainty quickly and nodded at her. Jyn imagined Draven’s voice, inducting her into Rebel Intelligence: sometimes you’ll have to make difficult decisions. Datastick down her top or not, she was damned if she was going to ignore the sound of someone who could use her help. She wouldn’t let someone else’s idea of an unnecessary risk taint what had, to her mind, been an excellent night so far; and she knew that Cassian felt the same way. She knew he wouldn’t force himself to walk on, not now.
Still, he touched her arm as she approached the corner that concealed the disturbance they’d heard. “Jyn, wait.”
She paused and turned to see him taking off the hat and sunglasses again. He gestured as though he expected her to take them from him. “Not with the datastick on you. I’ll go.”
She scoffed and pressed the offerings back. “I’m better at hand to hand,” she bent to pluck a vibroblade from her boot and added it to the pile of hat and glasses he held. “Take this. You’ll know if I need backup.”
He made an exasperated sound but didn’t disagree, his eyes wandering as she readjusted her top and bra-band to ensure that the datastick was still held firmly in place. Carefully, Jyn peered around the corner.
Two men in matching navy jackets stood with their backs to her, blocking someone else into the alley. With a flash of annoyance, Jyn recognised their bothan contact as the figure pinned against the refuse containers at the end of the street. The thugs looked to be members of the local cartel; a small but determined outfit that made its money through blackmail and information sales.
Silently, Jyn slipped around the corner and crossed the space to where the men stood. Although she tried to keep herself concealed behind their bodies, the fluorescent paint she wore wasn’t her usual subtle attire. The bothan’s ears twitched when she spotted Jyn, and the man on the right turned, revealing the blaster in his hand.
“Hey!”
Jyn let an angry hiss of breath escape her as she jinked behind the man on the left, grabbing handfuls of his jacket before he could turn on her and stamping a boot into the back of one of his knees. As he half-buckled with a groan, she spun him towards his comrade and shoved him into the other man’s blaster, which clattered to the ground in the collision.
With a brief nod at the bothan, Jyn followed up on the confusion before the two thugs could disentangle themselves. A kick to the lower back of the one she’d shoved; another swipe with her boot to direct the blaster away down the alley, where Cassian was already waiting to receive it; a fist to the jaw of the second man as the first stumbled sideways under her blow.
She stepped back, breathing hard around her smirk as Cassian sauntered up, holding the blaster on the gang members.
“You have glitter in your beard.”
“Yeah? Think it suits me?”
She shrugged, smiling and turning her attention back to the two men.
“You’re the ones she made the hand-off to! You’ll pay for this. That’s our information. We’ll track you d—“
At Jyn’s plaintive expression Cassian flipped the blaster to stun and fired two shots at the thugs. The bothan, still resting against the refuse containers, let out a sigh of relief.
“Are you ok?” Jyn asked her, extending a hand to take the woman’s paw and pull her to her feet. There were pinkish streaks in the pale fur around her mouth but she smiled toothily down at Jyn and Cassian.
“I am now, thanks. Lucky you two were leaving so late.”
Jyn exchanged a grin with Cassian. “I’ll say.”
The three of them continued to the spaceport, and Jyn and Cassian saw the bothan safely onto her own transport. They’d need a new contact if they ever returned here, but Jyn was happy to see the woman get away, free now that she’d done what she’d pledged to do for the Alliance.
On board their own ship, she checked the contents of the datastick, surveying the list of undercover officers whose names the cartel had wanted to sell on. Cassian radioed their successful retrieval to Draven and they brought the ship into orbit, keying in the co-ordinates for their rendezvous with the fleet.
Jyn leaned back in the flight chair, staring into the whirling clouds of blue as they launched into hyperspace. She closed her eyes and felt the changing tones play across her eyelids, thinking of the strobing lights in the dancehall. When she opened them, Cassian was looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, his slight, shy smile a mirror of hers.
There was no going back now: the glitter from her face was caught in his stubble, and fluorescent paint edged his finger-tips. Her own body held the memory of being close to him in the dancehall, and though she was grimy with dried sweat, she didn’t want to wash the night away in the sonic shower just yet.
He broke eye-contact first, turning his gaze to the console in front of him and extending a hand to the comms. “I’d better … just check the chatter on Rebel frequencies. In case Draven forgot to mention anything we should know.”
Jyn watched him, perplexity suddenly snapping into realisation when he deliberately knocked the frequency scanner. The onboard speakers chittered through several channels before eventually coming to a stop on some Outer Rim pirate radio. An Alderaanian ballad filled the ship, and Cassian momentarily looked shocked at the radio’s brazen encouragement of his plan. But at Jyn’s broadening smile he stood up and offered her a hand, which she took readily, following him from the cockpit to the hold.
As she passed the controls she switched off the ship’s internal lighting, so that only the dim, pulsing blue of hyperspace lit them. Button by button she undid his shirt again as he held her swaying hips.
“Should I put the hat back on, too?” he murmured in her ear.
Jyn laughed, popping the last fastening free and sliding herself between the open front of his shirt again, her arms encircling him, fingers stroking the small of his back. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
He tilted his head down to kiss her, slower and softer than earlier. The hands that he cupped around her face slid up her hairline to tease the fastening of her bun free, and he raked fingers through the stiff, sweat-dried waves of her hair.
Jyn scrunched her nose as she looked up at him; she couldn’t imagine the feeling of the cold, wet strands of her hair in his hands was a pleasant sensation. But he smiled back, unfazed, and kissed her again, his fingertips massaging her scalp and twining in the tangles at the base of her neck. She smoothed her hands around his torso again and ran them back up his chest until they met, interlocking behind his neck. Leaning back, pushing her pelvis against him and relaxing into the way his own hold cradled the back of her head, Jyn pulled away from his kiss to survey him.
Everything that’s she’d seen in his face had scared her, once upon a time. It was herself reflected back at her, her own need and fear and doubt, bare and uncompromising. But not now: the web of lines around his eyes and the softness of his mouth were where she could read her own relief that they’d finally admitted their feelings to each other. His cheek dimpling and making the specks of glitter caught in his beard and moustache sparkle was an echo of her own realisation that the tension of years of fighting seemed to have dissipated from her body.
Jyn pulled herself close to him again, closing her eyes and coming home.
All in all, she judged it to have been a pretty successful mission.