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Cassian woke immediately as he felt Bohdi stir, but he didn’t move until he realized that the other man was getting out of bed.
“Hey,” Cassian called out softly as he reached for Bohdi’s hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Bohdi blinked at him in confusion and Cassian’s breath caught. Even sleep-muddled and with his long, dark hair escaping from a loose braid, Bohdi was beautiful.
“I have my shift,” Bohdi made a vague gesture with his hand. Smiling shyly, he added, “Rebellions might be built on hope, but they run on hard work.”
“You’ve forgotten, love, your only job right now is to take care of me,” Cassian reminded the other man.
Bohdi frowned. “Take care of you – why, are you hurt?”
“Just a little and I’m all but healed,” Cassian reassured him, but his explanation was cut short when Bohdi lifted up Cassian’s shirt and started feeling around for a wound.
“I can’t believe that I forgot that,” Bohdi’s voice and expression were full of concern, but he soon sat back in confusion. “I don’t see any injuries, just some scars.”
“That’s because you do such a good job taking care of me,” Cassian kissed Bohdi softly and then started tugging him back down to the bed. “I am almost 100%, truthfully.”
Bohdi curled up against Cassian happily enough, but clearly wasn’t content with his husband’s answers because he peered up at Cassian anxiously. “If you’re almost 100%, why aren’t you on a mission?”
Cassian laughed, although the question brought a twinge of sadness too. “Haven’t you ever heard of a vacation? Draven and your SO ganged up on us and here we are, on Ysmi’hw, with nothing to do but rest and heal and enjoy one another.”
“That sounds. . . .” Bohdi hesitated. “That sounds rather lovely, actually. Are you sure you’re not hurting, though?”
Cassian kissed his favorite spot on Bohdi’s temple. “I could never hurt while I’m holding you.”
A smile and a blush slowly spread over Bohdi’s face. “If Jyn were here, she’d smack you for being so sentimental.”
“It’s a good thing she’s not here, then,” Cassian said. He wrapped his arms more firmly around the other man. “Now, more sleep and less talking, please.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Bohdi teased, but there was nothing but fondness in his tone of voice.
Cassian started slowly stroking the other man’s hair, something he knew was almost guaranteed to quickly cause Bohdi to drift off again. Sure enough, within a few moments, Bohdi’s body was completely limp where it pressed up to Cassian’s and his breathing was slow and even.
Unlike his husband, Cassian made no attempt to fall back to sleep. This was his favorite part of the day, holding Bohdi, and he wasn’t going to waste the peace by something as mundane as sleep.
Even perfect moments couldn’t last forever, though, and eventually Bohdi woke again. This time, snuggled as he was on Cassian’s chest, Bohdi woke up looking into Cassian’s face and so was smiling even before he was fully awake.
“Hi there,” Cassian spoke softly.
“Hello yourself,” Bohdi leaned up for a kiss, which Cassian gladly bestowed. Bohdi broke it off, though, and looked around in confusion. “That’s sunlight, we’re not on a ship?”
“No, we’re on leave,” Cassian told him. “On Ysmi’hw.”
“Leave? You?” Bohdi didn’t seem reassured. “Draven’s favorite espionage agent? You’d have to be half dead before he’d-. . . .” Bohdi’s words broke off as his expression changed from concerned to alarmed. “Are you hurt?”
Cassian caught Bohdi’s hands as the other man tried to lift up his shirt to look underneath. “I’m fine. Everything is long healed. You’ve done a superb job in taking care of me.”
Bohdi impatiently batted Cassian’s hands away and continued his examination. Cassian didn’t protest any further and just laid back and let it happen. He’d enjoy the attention if it weren’t for the worry frown on Bohdi’s face. Finally, though, the feather light touches against Cassian’s skin stopped as Bohdi’s inspection was complete. Bohdi sat back, clearly still a little confused and concerned.
“See? I told you that I was fine,” Cassian said.
“Sometimes your definition of fine and mine don’t match,” Bohdi pointed out, but he did relax against Cassian. “But this time, at least, you do seem to be okay.”
“Now that we have that established, which do you want first?” Cassian asked. “A shower or breakfast?”
“Shower,” Bohdi didn’t hesitate.
Bohdi was quick to stand and Cassian immediately followed. He was ready when Bohdi staggered, putting a steadying hand under Bohdi’s elbow.
“Oops,” Bohdi blushed. “Head rush.”
“That’s what we get for being so lazy,” Cassian was nonchalant about the stumble, but kept his hand on Bohdi’s elbow as he gently guided the other man towards the refresher facilities. “Too much time spent in bed.”
“I like being in bed with you,” Bohdi said shyly.
Cassian kissed him quickly. “That wasn’t a complaint, love.”
There were no more stumbles on the way to the fresher, which was a small room adjacent to their bedroom. Bohdi made a small murmur of pleasure when he saw how it was kitted out.
“Real water?” Bohdi looked delighted. As first a desert native and then a cargo pilot, actual water would always be a treat for Bohdi, something that Cassian had kept in mind when seeking out their accommodations.
“Real water,” Cassian affirmed. “Come on, let’s put it to use.”
With the ease of long practice, Cassian quickly turned the water on and adjusted it to the appropriate temperature setting, although he kept a close eye on Bohdi’s balance while he did. Removing his sleep clothes was a matter of moments and Cassian was soon ready to enter the shower. Bohdi had moved a little slower but wasn’t lagging behind more than a moment or two. When both of them were naked, Cassian reached out a hand for Bohdi and skillfully aided him into the shower without being too obvious about it. Or, at least he thought he wasn’t being obvious.
“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be taking care of you,” Bohdi muttered.
“We take care of each other,” Cassian stated firmly.
Showering with Bohdi was a special kind of torture for Cassian. The combination of warm water and a naked husband stimulated all kinds of good feelings, but Cassian ruthlessly tamped them down. It was difficult, though, especially when Bohdi moaned in pleasure at the feeling of the water on his skin.
While Bohdi was lost in sensations, Cassian quickly cleaned himself off. Afterwards, he took another handful of the soft cleansing mud, gently smoothing across the skin of Bohdi’s back.
“Mmmm,” Bohdi murmured, leaning back. “Cassian, that’s nice.”
The throaty tone of his husband’s voice was almost Cassian’s undoing. He felt his arousal start to grow and stifled a groan in frustration. Hoping that Bohdi would be distracted by his enjoyment of the real water, Cassian leaned his forehead against Bohdi’s back and ruthlessly forced himself to remember.
Jedha.
Bohdi as Cassian had first met him, wild-eyed and discombobulated from Saw Gerrera’s torture. Gerrera’s pet monster had messed with Bohdi’s mind so much that the pilot hadn’t been sure of his own name, but Bohdi didn’t forget the importance of his message.
Scarif.
Bohdi concussed and badly burned but determined to save as many rebels as he could.
Hoth.
Bohdi had piloted one of the last shuttles to escape the Empire’s attack, but it hadn’t been without cost. His craft had taken a bad hit, but Bohdi hadn’t lost consciousness until the all-important hyperspace calculations had been made.
Endor.
Bohdi had insisted that he fight with Cassian on the ground. At the time, Cassian had been relieved that they would be together, only to have his world shattered when Bohdi almost died. The blaster hit missed both of them but created shrapnel that became yet another head trauma for his husband.
Diagnosis.
Worst of all, Cassian forced himself to remember the doctor’s face as he broke the news that Bohdi wouldn’t make a complete recovery from the last injury, not even with the best of the treatments available. The body, especially the brain, could only take so much damage and Bohdi was far beyond what his could endure. It had started with the Bor Gullet and each subsequent injury had weakened Bohdi’s brain more. At best, Cassian had been told, Bohdi would be a pale shadow of the man that Cassian had married. The worst hadn’t born thinking about.
“Cassian?”
Bohdi’s voice brought Cassian back to the present and he shook off the memories in order to give his husband his complete attention. Thankfully, any feelings of arousal had fled and he was able to answer without his previous physical need being obvious. “Yes?”
Instead of answering verbally, Bodhi leaned forward and kissed Cassian in a decidedly unchaste manner. At first, Cassian moaned and leaned in to it, but pushed back before his body could stir to arousal again. “Bohdi, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“What?” Bohdi’s eyes were full of confusion again . . . and a little bit of hurt.
“My injuries,” Cassian made a vague gesture at his own body. “I want to but am just not up for it yet.”
It hurt to see Bohdi’s expression change from confusion to guilt. “I’m so sorry, love. I forgot that you were hurt. Again, I forgot! I don’t know where my head is at this morning. Will you forgive me? I didn’t hurt you more, did I?”
“No, you’re fine,” Cassian tried to reassure his distraught husband. “I’m the one who told you I was almost back to normal, it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
No matter what Cassian said, however, Bohdi would not let up on himself. He disparaged his own supposed selfishness while they both rinsed off and insisted on personally drying Cassian with his own hands. Since that kept them close enough that Cassian could catch Bohdi if he lost balance again, Cassian tried not to feel too guilty for lying to him.
“And now I do your hair,” Cassian stated after they both were reasonably dry and dressed.
“Are you sure you feel well enough?” Bohdi asked. “You’re injured; the shower didn’t wear you out, did it? I don’t want you to be overtired.”
“I’m never too tired to brush your hair,” Cassian said firmly.
“If you’re sure. . . .”
“I am,” Cassian pointed to the chair. “Now sit.”
Realizing that he’d made it an order, Cassian smiled sheepishly to take some of the sting out of his tone. He truly did love to brush Bohdi’s hair; it was a privilege he wasn’t inclined to forgo, especially not because of a nonexistent injury. “It’s therapeutic, really.”
Finally convinced, Bohdi sat gingerly on the stool that was kept in the bathroom for just that purpose. Cassian took the wide-tooth comb and began the process of bringing order to the clean, but tangled hair.
Even before he’d known him well, Cassian had wondered at Bohdi’s hair. The Empire that Bohdi had defected from was not known for its leniency with regards to lack of uniformity. Long hair for a man had been unusual and Bohdi admitted he only got away with it because he was a cargo pilot that wasn’t often in the sight of his superior officers.
Once free of the Empire, Bohdi had continued to let his hair grow. By the time he’d received that devastating injury on Endor, Bohdi’s hair had fallen to his waist. In the aftermath, it would have been easier to care for him had it been cut short, but Cassian had refused. Not only did he love his husband’s hair, but Bohdi considered it a symbol of his freedom.
By the time Bohdi’s hair was untangled and in a braid, both men were practically purring with contentment. Cassian put the comb aside and, from behind, looped his arms around Bohdi’s neck in a loose embrace. “Better?”
Bohdi lifted his face for a kiss, which Cassian bestowed quickly, and chastely.
“Now it’s better,” Bohdi teased with a smile.
Cassian held out a hand to his husband. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
When the two men entered the kitchen, Cassian took a seat at the counter and let Bohdi putter around. The space was small enough that if he stumbled, Bohdi would have lots of surfaces to catch himself on, so Cassian wasn’t concerned about a fall. Besides, since breakfast was essentially set up the night before, the work that would be involved feeding them would be simple and doing it would give Bohdi a sense of accomplishment.
Bohdi peeked into the cooling unit. “Sweet grains!”
Cassian smiled at the delighted tone in Bohdi’s voice; sweet grains were a favorite of Bohdi’s. Cassian liked them well enough, but nowhere near as much as his husband. In fact, Cassian had prepared them the night before as a treat for Bohdi. His own reward was the happy expression on Bohdi’s face.
“My favorite,” Bohdi asked as he brought the bowl to the counter. “Did you do this?”
“Yes, you’ve been taking such good care of me I thought you deserved a reward,” Cassian told him.
“We take care of each other,” Bohdi repeated what Cassian had earlier and then gave Cassian a quick kiss. “At least that was what I heard.”
It didn’t take long for Bohdi to dish up two bowls of the chilled grains and soon both men were eating. Bohdi told stories about his childhood between bites, made nostalgic by the meal, but that was nothing new. Cassian had heard all the stories before, but he didn’t remind Bohdi of that. Instead, Cassian quietly ate his own breakfast, basking in the contentment radiating off the other man.
As they were clearing the dishes, Bohdi glanced out the window and did a double take. “Cassian, did Chirrut and Baze take leave too?”
Cassian joined his husband in looking out the window. Sure enough, the other men had crossed their yard and were making their way towards the door of Cassian and Bohdi’s villa. Cassian stifled a sigh and answered Bohdi’s question as neutrally as he could.
“Actually, they live permanently on this planet,” Cassian explained. “We chose to take our leave here so we could spend time with them.”
Bohdi frowned. “Why didn’t I remember that?”
It was impossible not to react to that frown. Cassian stepped closer to Bohdi and put a hand on the small of his back. “You’ve been a bit distracted, love.”
“Sorry?” Bohdi’s expression was still unsure.
Cassian chuckled softly. “No need for that, since I’m the distraction. Taking care of me has taken a lot out of you. Don’t worry if you’ve let a few small things slide.”
His reassurance was successful. Bohdi’s expression was first relieved and then hopeful. “And Jyn? Is she here too?”
Jyn was a subject not as easily dealt with and Cassian chose his words carefully. “Not right now, but you know Jyn, she could show up at any minute.”
He told himself that he wasn’t lying to Bohdi. Jyn was many things, but predictable wasn’t one of them. It was entirely possible that she would have a mission relatively nearby and drop in to check in on her former teammates. She’d done it before, but never stayed long. It turned out that the infamously fearless Jyn Erso was afraid to face something after all and that was the permanent disability of someone she cared about. Cassian understood that particular cowardice all too well, but a part of him hated her for it anyway.
“Good morning,” Chirrut called as he entered their home.
“Chirrut! Baze! I’ve missed you.” Bohdi asked as he came forward for a hug.
Since he was in Chirrut’s arms, Bohdi missed the quick expression of sadness that flashed across Chirrut’s face, but Cassian saw it. Chirrut quickly recovered, however, and patted Bohdi on the back.
“It’s good to have you here, my friend,” Chirrut said as Bohdi moved on to hug Baze. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Did the Force tell you that?” Bohdi asked. He’d stopped hugging Baze, but the big man kept one arm across his shoulders.
“The sunlight on his face told him that,” Baze huffed.
Bohdi grinned at the familiar byplay, but Cassian was more guarded. He and Chirrut didn’t agree with one aspect of Bohdi’s care and had butted heads about it before.
“Cassian, we would like to borrow Bohdi this morning,” Chirrut said. “It’s the perfect day to garden and you know how Bohdi likes to putter in the dirt.”
“Thank you, but no,” Bohdi answered firmly, before Cassian could even open his mouth. “Cassian’s injured and I’m taking care of him.”
“I’m mostly well, love,” Cassian protested softly. Chirrut was right. Being from a desert planet, Bohdi did love the novelty of working with green growing things. “You should do something you enjoy.”
“And although you enjoy Cassian rather much,” Chirrut added, his tone overly innocent, “he needs to sleep to finish the healing process. If you’re here, he might not rest.”
Cassian glared at Chirrut and not just for using guilt to manipulate Bohdi. The older man knew exactly what he was saying when he used the words ‘enjoy Cassian rather much.’ Bohdi didn’t answer, but his fingers twitched, which Cassian knew to be a sign of indecision.
“Go, I’ll be fine,” Cassian insisted. “And it’s just across the way, you can come and check on me any time you like.”
“If you’re sure you’ll be all right,” Bohdi brightened when Cassian nodded. “I’d be happy to, then.”
“Excellent,” Chirrut’s smile was wide and genuine. He and Baze loved Bohdi almost as much as Cassian did, although in a different way.
“Little brother, would you see to it that this old fool doesn’t mistake the vegetables that are sprouting for weeds?” Baze asked Bohdi gruffly. “Cassian and I need to talk.”
Cassian hid his sigh. He’d expected a lecture, but from Chirrut instead of Baze. At least coming from a different person would be a slight change of pace.
The uncertainty returned to Bohdi’s face; he must have picked up on some of Cassian’s tension despite Cassian’s best efforts. “Cassian, are you up for a talk with Baze?”
“I’ll be just fine, Bohdi.” Cassian assured him, mentally kicking himself for having been too transparent with his irritation. “Go. Have fun.”
“I’ve been appointed to the local council,” Baze explained when Bohdi continued to hesitate. “I need Cassian’s advice about how to deal with another member. Boring stuff.”
Bohdi wrinkled his nose in distaste; Baze had picked the perfect topic to convince the other man not to stick around for conversation. Bohdi hated politics. Cassian did too, but his years as a spy gave him a foundation for understanding it.
“Come, my friend, let’s go,” Chirrut tucked a hand underneath Bohdi’s elbow and began walking towards the door. Bohdi had little choice but to follow. “It’s too beautiful a day to ruin with something as boring as politics.”
“All right,” Bohdi turned towards Cassian before he let Chirrut pull him outside. “I’ll check on you later, Cassian.”
“Have fun,” Cassian gave a half wave. As soon as Bohdi and Chirrut were outside and the door closed behind them, however, he turned towards Baze with a bland expression. “No, it’s not permissible to shoot another council member if they disagree with you.”
“Thanks for the advice.” If it had been another man, Cassian would have sworn that flicker of a smile crossed Baze’s face as he sat down at the table. Since it was Baze, though, Cassian assumed he was mistaken. “I didn’t think so, but it’s best to get these things verified.”
Now that the ‘advice’ was out of the way, Cassian put his hands on the table and leaned forward until he was almost nose to nose with the older man. “My sex life is none of your business; I don’t need any lectures.”
In addition to politics, another thing that Cassian had learned as a spy was how to intimidate. His statement to Baze had been made in a snarl, but Baze didn’t even blink.
“You have me mixed up with my husband,” Baze retorted. “I don’t lecture. Now, sit down. I’m going to tell you a story.”
Cassian sat. The thought of the normally taciturn Baze telling a story was unusual enough to overcome his natural wariness.
“Chirrut was already blind when we met,” Baze started. Cassian knew that much and nodded his head absently. “When I first came to the temple and saw him sparring, it took my breath away. Do you know how most winged predators are graceful and fierce at the same time? That was Chirrut.”
“I’ve seen him fight,” Cassian murmured. “I know what you mean.”
Baze didn’t seem to mind the interruption. “Chirrut in motion is a thing of beauty. But that wasn’t all that attracted me, it was his fearlessness and joy in life.” He looked at Cassian, but when the other man didn’t say anything, continued.
“When Chirrut accepted me as his own, the first thing I wanted to do was protect him,” Baze said. “I was at his side constantly. ‘Don’t do that, you’ll get hurt,’ I would say. ‘Be careful, my heart,’ I would warn, ‘that might be dangerous for you.’” Baze sighed and it seemed to come from the tips of the big man’s toes. “And because he loved me, Chirrut listened.”
“After a short time, that fierce, independent man I’d fallen in love with had become tentative. Chirrut actually doubted himself; doubted what the Force was telling him.” Baze shook his head in regret. “In my efforts to protect him, I’d clipped Chirrut’s wings. I was responsible for crippling him far more than his blindness ever could.”
The point that Baze was trying to make was almost painfully obvious, but the remembered guilt the story brought was equally clear.
“Bohdi is not Chirrut,” Cassian replied, with less heat than he normally would have. “His disability is not the same.”
“And you do a far better job of not caging him than I did at first with Chirrut,” Baze agreed. “Except for one thing.”
And there it was.
“Bohdi’s memory is damaged,” Cassian reminded his friend. “I will not take advantage of him just to take care of my own sexual needs.”
Baze sat forward. “If I thought for a moment that you were taking advantage of him, I would rip you apart, limb from limb.” He paused for a moment. “Slowly.”
“Then you and I have very different definitions of taking advantage of someone,” Cassian refused to back down. “I love Bohdi too much to use him like that.”
“Bohdi loves you too,” Baze was surprisingly gentle when he replied.
Cassian laughed, but there was no joy in it. “When he remembers me.”
“Which is most of the time,” Baze countered. “Don’t punish him for not remembering you all of the time.”
“Punish him?” Cassian repeated. At first he was astounded at what Baze had just said, but his anger was quick to catch up. “I would never punish him and especially not for something that he can’t control.”
“What else do you call denying a man who loves you with his whole heart the chance to express it to you physically?” Baze asked.
Cassian started to protest, vehemently, but then he remembered how sad Bohdi had been in the shower. How Cassian’s reason for not wanting to make love, his own nonexistent injury, had made Bohdi feel guilty for even asking.
Making Bohdi feel guilty was not something that Cassian wanted to think about. Luckily for him, yet another tactic Cassian learned while a spy was distraction. “What, do you think that having sex will magically bring Bohdi’s memory back?”
Baze didn’t deign to give answer to that. Instead, Baze reached across the table and cupped each side of Cassian’s face with a hand.
“Bohdi is not the only little brother that Chirrut and I worry about,” he said softly. Baze patted Cassian’s cheek gently before pulling back. “And, besides, I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about making love and I know the man you are, Cassian Andor; you know the difference.”
Cassian wasn't sure how to respond, or if a response was even looked for. He sat silently for a moment but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Baze took pity on him and slowly rose to his feet.
“I’ve given you a lot to think about, so I’m gonna go now,” Baze said. “Just make sure that you rest too.”
Baze and Chirrut usually kept Bohdi with them during the day several times a week, giving Cassian time to himself. Since he slept so lightly, worried that Bohdi would need him during the night, Cassian usually spent a much of that time napping. Bohdi usually slept most of the afternoon too, thanks to the brain damage left behind by multiple head injuries.
His friend had almost made it to the door before Cassian remembered that silence wasn’t the response that Baze’s caring deserved.
“Baze,” Cassian said. He waited until the other man turned around before continuing. “Thank you.” He spread his hands helplessly, unable to put into words what he meant. He owed Baze and Chirrut so much.
Baze nodded and his lips turned up slightly. “Just get some sleep.”
The sound of the door closing seemed to echo in the kitchen. Cassian looked around, not inclined just yet to go back to bed. He got out the ingredients for a soup that both he and Bohdi liked. While he chopped vegetables, Cassian mentally sifted through memories of the times he’d deflected Bohdi from wanting to make love. In his determination to protect Bohdi, had Cassian actually hurt him?
A stinging pain brought Cassian’s mind back to what he was doing. His knife had slipped and cut his finger rather than the root vegetable he was working on. Muttering at his own clumsiness, Cassian ran water over his finger to see what the damage was. Luckily, the knife hadn’t gone very deep; the pain mostly came from the wound being located on the sensitive fingertip.
By the time he got the cut bandaged and soup ingredients in the slow cooker, Cassian had started yawning. He wasn’t sure he was ready to sleep yet but walked to the bedroom anyway. Once there, he went to his side of the bed and opened a chest that served as a bedside table. It contained a portable image projector and Cassian flipped it on.
Images of his life with Bohdi cycled through the device. Members of the rebellion didn’t have much time or funds for such things, so there weren’t many, especially of the early years. A personal favorite of Cassian’s was from the time Bohdi went undercover at a sabacc tournament. It was one of the few times Cassian had seen the other man dressed as elegantly as a Coruscant diplomat. Although Bohdi had carried off that assignment well, and with a feigned arrogance that even impressed Draven, in the image, he was blushing.
Another favorite was of their wedding on Hoth. Bohdi had complained about the cold the entire time the rebel base had been stationed there – with the exception of their wedding day. They’d both been bundled up in fur-trimmed parkas, but the radiance in Bohdi’s face clearly showed that being cold hadn’t reduced his joy at all.
The stream of memories was interrupted by a yawn and, reluctantly, Cassian put the imager aside. Dwelling on the past wasn’t helping his frame of mind. As Cassian closed his eyes and settled back against his pillow, he turned his thoughts towards that morning in the shower. For the first time in a long time, he let himself look at Bohdi with the eyes of a lover and not with the concerned gaze of a husband.
Bohdi had responded to Cassian’s touch.
Bohdi had murmured Cassian’s name.
Bohdi had known exactly who he was in the shower with – and known exactly what he wanted to do.
“You idiot,” Cassian murmured. He sat up and punched his pillow a couple of times, ostensibly to make it more comfortable to sleep on, but really to release some frustration with himself. When he was done, Cassian laid back down and let his mind wander through happier memories. This time, when those memories became more heated, Cassian didn’t make himself turn away. Sleep, when it came, was a gentle and welcome transition.
An indeterminate time later, some very pleasant dreams were interrupted by an insistent chiming noise. The war was over, but Cassian had been a soldier and spy far longer than he’d been a civilian. Even asleep, his instincts made him quick to react and he identified the sound as the communicator. He answered it as the chime sounded a second time, already getting up and pulling on his shoes.
“Is he awake yet?” Cassian asked as soon as he heard the faint noise that indicated that the connection was open. He didn’t bother with greetings; there would only be one of two men trying to reach him and they’d both have the same reason – Bohdi.
“Not yet,” Baze was equally terse when he answered. “Chirrut says it’s gonna be a bad one.”
Cassian was moving even before he spoke. “On my way.”
A “bad one” meant a Jedha awakening. Specifically, a post-Bor Gullet Jedha awakening. Cassian cursed under his breath even as he moved quickly through the house and hurried next door. He didn’t bother to knock and just entered. The villa that Chirrut and Baze inhabited was a mirror image of the one Cassian shared with Bohdi, so he entered into the kitchen just as they had done earlier. The other two men were standing silently, Baze’s expression even more closed off than it normally was and Chirrut’s showing sorrow.
Nodding wordlessly in greeting, Cassian moved passed the other two men and headed towards the bedroom that was basically Bohdi’s when with Baze and Chirrut. Once there, he stopped outside the door and peeked in. Bohdi had a frown on his face and his breathing was too fast for someone who was peacefully sleeping, but he wasn’t awake yet.
Bohdi’s capricious memory didn’t send him back to Jedha often, but when it did, the experience was traumatic, not only for Bohdi, but for the loved ones that had to witness it. They’d learned through trial and error that Bohdi would need to wake on his own, otherwise his confusion was exponentially increased.
It was torture to have watch as Bohdi’s sleep became agitated and to know that the only thing he should do was watch. Cassian endured, one hand to either side of the door frame as he leaned in, almost like a runner getting ready to sprint. As Bohdi’s sleep became more distressed, Cassian’s grip on the door frame tightened to the point where the durable plastisteel actually creaked from the pressure. By the time Bohdi woke with a cry, Cassian’s hands were aching almost as much as his heart was.
Bohdi scrambled off the bed, his eyes darting all around the room, but not seeming to see anything. He scuttled to the corner and folded himself into a miserable ball, all while Cassian did nothing but observe.
With an iron will, Cassian forced himself to wait. He wanted to run in and comfort his husband, wanted it with every fiber of his being. Unfortunately, Bohdi wasn’t his husband at the moment. Instead, he was a tortured, frightened man who’d never heard of Cassian Andor.
Bohdi’s shaking slowly dwindled and the miserable huddle he’d curled himself into relaxed a little. Cassian knew better than to assume that those were indications that the episode was over. It just meant that the next phase had started.
Cassian took a deep breath and walked carefully into the room. When he reached Bohdi, he cautiously dropped into a crouch. Bohdi’s eyes were open, but his husband’s stare was blank.
“Hey,” Cassian called out softly, echoing the words he’d used the first time he’d met the other man. “Are you the pilot?”
Like the first time they’d gone through this exercise, Bohdi’s reaction was minimal.
“Are you Bohdi Rook?” Cassian asked. “Are you the pilot?”
“Pilot,” Bohdi repeated, but his stare was still distant and unfocused.
“Did Galen Erso send you?”
That name succeeded where Cassian’s first questions hadn’t. Bohdi finally tracked that he was being spoken to and turned his head in slow motion to look at Cassian.
“Galen?” Bohdi repeated.
Cassian breathed a sigh of relief. There was a time when he’d been jealous that Galen Erso had been Bohdi’s first love. Over the years, however, those feelings had faded as Cassian realized that Galen might have been first, but Cassian was Bohdi’s forever love. Now he was simply grateful for anything that could draw Bohdi out the horror that his mind had returned him to.
“Yes, Galen Erso,” Cassian assured him. “He gave you a message.”
The words galvanized Bohdi. “I’m the pilot,” he sounded more grounded than he had even a few moments earlier. “I brought the message.”
“Yes, you did,” Cassian told him.
“I – I did,” Bohdi stammered. “I’m the pilot.”
“Yes, no one could have done it better,” Cassian continued his comforting patter as he reached for Bohdi.
The combination of comforting words and tone – and, yes, Galen’s name – had settled Bohdi enough that he was willing to let Cassian help him to his feet. Cassian rested one hand on the small of Bohdi’s back as he guided his confused husband from the room.
Bohdi kept his head down as they walked. When they reached the kitchen, he didn’t even notice Chirrut and Baze watching. Cassian did, though, and he nodded his thanks to his friends. Baze nodded solemnly back and wrapped an arm around Chirrut. The normally cheerful monk looked subdued and Cassian knew that both Chirrut and Base were dealing with their own memories of Jedha and its destruction.
Leaving their friends behind, Cassian led Bohdi across the yards and into their own house. It was already nearly twilight; between his own nap and waiting for Bohdi to wake up, more time had passed than Cassian had realized. When they reached their own kitchen, Cassian sat an unresisting Bohdi at the table and readied a large bowl of warm water. He placed it, some soft cloths and a clean shirt beside his husband.
“Here, I thought you might want to clean up before we eat,” Cassian suggested.
Although Bohdi had woken up in a fear sweat, he wasn’t nearly as filthy as he’d been the first time Cassian had met him. That was good, because there was no way that Cassian would suggest that Bohdi take a shower, not when he didn’t know Cassian well enough to accept help from him.
For a moment, Cassian wasn’t sure the water or the suggestion had registered, but slowly, Bohdi reached for a cloth. Cassian breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that Bohdi smelled bad, but the act of washing would serve as another way to ground Bohdi and help draw his battered mind away from the memory of torture.
While Bohdi cleaned up, Cassian worked on dinner. The soup had been cooking since morning, so all he had to do was dish it up. They had some bread leftover from a trip to the market the day before. It didn’t take long to slice a few pieces. After he added two glasses of cool water, dinner was ready.
Bohdi was just putting the clean shirt on when Cassian placed a bowl in front of him. Already Bohdi was looking much better, but then Cassian reminded himself that his husband had been able to tramp around Eadu shortly after his rescue from Gerrera. Bohdi might be slight, but he was tougher than he looked.
“Here, this is for you,” Cassian told him. “You’ll feel better if you eat something.”
Cassian walked away to get the rest of the food and when he came back, Bohdi was just staring at the soup.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Cassian asked as he took the seat across from the other man.
Bohdi looked from the soup bowl to Cassian, his expression equal parts confusion and apprehension. “Who are you?”
Whatever appetite Cassian’d had fled, but he bent his head over his soup anyway. It allowed him to hide his expression until he could compose himself. It wasn’t the first time Bohdi had asked that question since his injury and Cassian had been half expecting it, but it gutted him just the same.
“My name is Cassian Andor,” Cassian said when he thought he could keep his voice steady. “I’m with the rebellion.”
“Wh-what happened?” Bohdi asked. “Where am I?”
“You delivered Galen Erso’s message,” Cassian told him. “The rebellion doesn’t abandon those people who help us, so in gratitude for what you did, I’m taking care of you.” He nodded at Bohdi’s untouched soup bowl. “Speaking of taking care of you. . . .”
Bohdi got the hint and started to dip his spoon into the warm liquid but stopped short of scooping any up. “Was I in time?”
Cassian nodded. “Thanks to you, we were able to stop it.”
Bohdi’s eyes got wide. “Before it destroyed any planets?”
Cassian was an accomplished liar; he’d had to have been to survive so many years in the intelligence division of the rebellion. He’d lied for the rebellion. He’d lied and lied and then lied again. At some point, Cassian didn’t know if he lied because it was part of the job or if he just didn’t know how to tell the truth anymore. After his own rebellion in going to Scarif, Draven no longer trusted him and that was fine by Cassian; he no longer had the stomach for intelligence work. Fighting combat missions was still bloody, but somehow Cassian’s hands had felt cleaner after he made the switch.
With Bohdi, Cassian had always prided himself on telling the truth. For years, he’d enjoyed the lack of secrets, but like so much else, that had changed with Bohdi’s injury. He lied to his husband all the time now – all of it for Bohdi’s own good.
Cassian still hated the lies, however benevolent they were - with one exception.
When he was like this, Bohdi didn’t remember what happened to Jedha and the annihilation of Alderaan hadn’t happened yet. One thing was certain; Bohdi would learn about either from Cassian. Bohdi’s defection and deliverance of Galen Erso’s message had been truly heroic but had been overshadowed by their losses. Some people in the rebellion still blamed Bohdi for the destruction that the Death Star had caused. If there was one silver lining in Bohdi’s Jedha episodes, it was that Bohdi was temporarily free of the misplaced guilt he felt for all of those deaths.
“No,” Cassian finally answered Bohdi’s question. “You got the message through in time. The Death Star was destroyed before it could be used to hurt anyone.”
Bohdi sat back with a relieved sigh and Cassian smiled.
“If you eat your soup, I’ll tell you all about it,” Cassian offered.
“Th-thank you,” Bohdi said. His first spoonful was tentative, but once he got his first taste, Bohdi’s face lit up. “This tastes like home.”
“A friend shared the recipe with me,” Cassian told him, not hinting that the ‘friend’ in question was Bohdi himself.
While they ate, Cassian wove a tale about how the Death Star had been defeated. In his version, though, not only had the weapon never become operational, but they also hadn’t needed to infiltrate Scarif. The battle against the Death Star had been thrilling enough without those details and Cassian enjoyed telling it, especially with Bohdi being such a responsive audience.
When the story wound down, though, Bohdi yawned. He started to apologize, but that was interrupted by another yawn. “I’m sorry,” he looked sheepish.
“Don’t be,” Cassian assured him. He quickly stacked the dishes into the sink. “I should be sorry for keeping you up so long. Follow me and I’ll show you where you can sleep.”
Although Bohdi was far more settled than he had been when he’d first awakened, he was by no means at his normal level. He was too unquestioning of Cassian and his motives. At the moment that was a relief, but Cassian also knew it was yet another reason of why he needed to constantly keep a close eye on his husband.
In short order, Cassian led Bohdi to their bedroom and made sure to introduce him to the amenities. Most of the amenities, anyway. Bohdi didn’t need to know that he would be monitored while alone. Bohdi hadn’t had a seizure in a long time, but Cassian wouldn’t take any chances.
“Thank you,” Bodhi said as Cassian turned to leave.
“It’s my pleasure,” Cassian assured him truthfully. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything.”
Like Chirrut and Baze’s dwelling, their house had two bedrooms. The second one was used as a study and that was where Cassian retreated. He flopped down into a large, soft chair that was his preferred seat and blew out a huge sigh. He hated Bohdi’s Jedha awakenings, although he was grateful at least that Bohdi’s mind never sent him back further in his memory than the Bor Gullet’s torture. That meant that at least wherever Bohdi’s memory went, Cassian was able to follow and help his husband with whatever confusion his memory caused.
Just sitting and staring at a monitor until Bohdi fell asleep wasn’t productive and, besides, Cassian knew from experience that he’d obsess on every little noise that Bohdi made. Instead, Cassian split his attention between the monitor and his holopad. Draven might not trust him anymore, but other members of the rebellion leadership did. Cassian earned his living by monitoring communications for Mon Mothma. The Empire had been defeated, but like a cancer, there were concerns that it could start spreading again if not closely watched.
By the time that Cassian was finished, the only noise coming from the monitor was the soft sound of Bohdi’s breathing. Cassian powered down his holopad and extricated himself from the chair. He changed into some sleeping clothes he kept stored for just such instances, and moving quietly, he went back to the bedroom.
As the monitor had indicated, Bohdi was asleep. Cassian took a moment to lean against the door frame and just drink in the sight of his husband. After the fear and agitation of Bohdi having a Jedha episode, it did Cassian good to see Bohdi so comfortable and calm. While he watched, though, Bohdi stirred, as though he sensed that he was being observed.
Cassian moved into the room but didn’t approach the bed. Instead he moved to the open space by the window and silently dropped to the floor. He sat with his legs crossed; the moonlight coming through the window behind him provided enough light to see the bed. Satisfied that he was close by if Bohdi needed him, Cassian closed his eyes and dropped into one of the meditations that Chirrut taught him.
“Cassian?”
Cassian blinked slowly, not sure how much time had passed. He looked up at the bed to see Bohdi propped up on his elbows, sleepy, but clearly aware of who Cassian was.
“What are you doing down there?” Bohdi asked.
For a change, Bohdi’s confusion caused Cassian relief instead of pain. This level of confusion he could handle.
“I couldn’t sleep and was afraid I’d wake you,” Cassian replied.
Bohdi patted the bed beside him. “I’ll sleep much better with you here, love.”
Cassian didn’t need to be asked twice. He got up from the floor and quickly moved to join Bohdi in their bed. Once he lay down, Bohdi snuggled close, head pillowed on Cassian’s chest.
“Isn’t this better,” Bohdi asked in a sleepy, but smug tone.
“Much,” Cassian agreed.
He bent to kiss the top of Bohdi’s head, but Bohdi surprised him by lifting his face at the last moment. Before his chat with Baze, Cassian would have dodged so that the kiss landed on his cheek. Or, failing at that, would have prevented the kiss from deepening. Not this time. Cassian let himself enjoy the feel of Bohdi’s lips on his own and, to his surprise, didn’t feel any guilt at all.
“Mmmm, that’s nice,” Bohdi murmured after they broke apart – and then he yawned. “Do you think you hold that thought until morning? Or at least until I’m awake enough to enjoy it?”
Cassian chuckled. It wasn’t him that might not remember in the morning, but that was okay. After repressing his sexual feelings for his husband for as long as he had, Cassian wasn’t ready to jump right into the thick of things. He would know when the moment was right.
“Of course,” Cassian reassured his husband. “It wouldn’t do for my ego for you to fall asleep in the middle.”
“As if that would happen,” Bohdi teased, but then yawned again. “Now, on the other hand. . . .”
“Go back to sleep,” Cassian told him. “The morning will come soon enough.”
Bohdi laid his head down on Cassian’s chest. Cassian started stroking his husband’s hair and it wasn’t long until Bohdi’s breathing returned to the slow and steady pattern of sleep.
The meditation had done much to settle Cassian’s thoughts, but he still went back to Bohdi’s diagnosis and how the doctor had told him that Bohdi would only be a shadow of the man he’d been.
The doctor had been wrong.
Although Bohdi’s memory issues were every bit as bad as predicted, Cassian had come to feel that every memory switch showed him a different side of his husband. Bohdi was always Bohdi, only as he’d been at that particular point of time. Just like a gem had different sides, so did Bohdi. Cassian wasn’t living with shadows of his husband, he was seeing different facets of him. And like a gem, Bohdi was precious.
Cassian drifted towards sleep, his husband a warm bundle in his arms and his heart alike. Maybe Baze and Chirrut were right; by denying Bohdi sexual closeness, Cassian had been doing more harm than good. They’d find out together. Until then, Cassian would enjoy his many-faceted husband and cherish him like the jewel he was.