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Merrick leaned on his cane, composing himself outside the door to the mess hall.
Through the imperfect seal he could hear the usual boisterous chatter. Merrick smiled, wistful as he remembered cocky post-flight banter. That was behind him, though. Skies over Scarif had seen to that.
Still, he’d lived, even if his leg was busted. Things could be worse.
Merrick pushed the door open.
A hush fell across the hall, immediately followed by a rising “Ooooooo!” In the middle of it sat a blushing Luke Skywalker, who was very carefully not meeting his eye.
Ah.
“Flight officers are excluded from your little blind-date ‘kiss-the-first-person-who-comes-through-the-door’ initiation rituals,” Merrick called to the room at large.
Green Leader cleared her throat. “Point in fact, Mer, you’re not a flight officer anymore.”
Merrick’s stomach tightened. She was right.
A murmur of disapproval moved through the hall. Green Leader waved it off. “All I’m saying, you get injured out, you get to kiss the newbies in compensation.”
The muttering stopped, more curious noises started. The stone in Merrick’s stomach stayed.
He put on his best showman’s smile and shook his head. “Come on, give the kid an out. Nobody wants to be kissing this.” He made a self-depreciating gesture to himself. Older. Injured. Not the sort of person bright-eyed wunderkinds went red and giggled over as a part of their strange, strange bonding rituals.
“Now,” Luke called, cutting over the noise of the room as he stood. “I think I should be the judge of that.”
Luke approached, smile on his mouth and determination in his eyes. Merrick adjusted his grip on his cane, nerves coming out in restless fingers.
Luke stopped just inches away, eyes raking Merrick over. “Dashing,” he announced. A rustle of anticipation moved through the room.
Merrick should be responsible, sit down, and wave Luke off for the next victim.
But Merrick was a pilot to his core; he never had gotten the hang of restraint. “Is that right?”
Whispers ran like wildfire around the mess hall. Luke’s eyes sparkled, bright and knowing, and the moment shifted. There was a time to fly silent and a time to fly stunts; they both knew this was the second.
Luke wove his arms around Merrick’s neck. “Very right. I don’t need an out.”
“Well.” Merrick’s free hand went to the small of Luke’s back, tugging him in. “Traditions must be upheld.”
A sharp exclamation, a quick shush, and the room fell dead silent. Merrick gave Luke a wink, moved in for a quick peck, and pulled back again.
Groans of disappointment echoed, but Merrick and Luke didn’t let go of each other. Get the timing right, the shot was all lined up for Luke—
“Oh come on, Handsome! You can’t think I’m letting you go that easily.” Luke’s arms tightened and he pulled Merrick down.
Perfect.
The cheers of the mess hall, Luke’s mouth sweet and hot underneath his...well, it wasn’t flying—but it was damn close.