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The mess hall was nearly empty at this hour, and silent save for the clinking echoes of a few forks. Alexsandr Kallus idly stirred his whisper-bird kak’ik, staring at nothing in particular. Well, he thought he was doing a fine job of fixing his gaze at no one object, but he was clearly staring at Zeb. Luckily, Garazeb Orrelios was too engrossed in his space waffles to apparently notice.
Kallus marvelled yet again at their unlikely friendship. Really, it was getting quite difficult to remember a time when they were mortal enemies; he and Zeb were so similar. The little trip to Bahryn that had revealed their similitude, and of course all that followed, proved itself every day to be the greatest stroke of luck of his life. It had been rather more than a year since Kallus had begun to consider Orrelios his best and only friend, especially in the months since his arrival on Yavin IV. He enjoyed his work as an intelligence analyst, sure, and he still felt a thrill in his spine whenever he passed one of Sabine Wren’s murals of the blazing phoenix emblem. However, the highlight of his day was always when the face of a friendly Lasat appeared over the wall of his cubicle, telling him to stuff his paperwork and join him for a bite.
Kallus was also starting to have a hard time ignoring the fluttering that warmed his belly whenever he saw that delightful face. And those smiling green eyes. And those perfect-soldier teeth that were currently chewing- wait, no good. Those indescribable lips were currently addressing him, and he’d better engage all of his powers of observation to appear present in the conversation.
“-s’ why I was late to grab ya for dinner,” Zeb was explaining. “Weather’s been so fine, I just couldn’t go inside until I found the perfect tree.”
“Er, perfect for what?” he asked.
Zeb chuckled, which almost caused Kallus to lose focus again.
“Heh, knew you’d still be at work though, since you can’t think about anything else. You’d be lost without me,” he joked. Kallus wisely chose to grunt in response, lest he reveal any too-earnest feelings. “Anyway, if you can tear your mind away from those reports for one second, I was just trying to tell you it’s a good night for sleeping outside.”
“Oh? I didn’t take you for an avid tenter, Zeb.”
“‘S tradition on Lasan, you know,” Zeb divulged with a far-off smile.
“Interesting. So when are we going to this perfect tree?” Until he saw the bemused look on Zeb’s face, he hadn’t questioned that he was welcome to join. He had just invited himself to some kind of… intimate Lasat co-sleeping ritual. Like an idiot.“It’s just that I’d still like to spend more time, uh, outside after living mostly in space for the past few years,” he explained hurriedly, cringing at his folly.
“Uh, sure. It’ll hold both of us, no problem,” Zeb said casually, standing up with his tray.
Kallus nervously tugged at the growing hair on the back of his neck until he caught sight of his friend’s reassuring smile. Seemingly, he didn’t mind Kallus’s intrusion. Much. Kallus followed him to the dish return and deposited his mostly-full bowl. As they exited the mess, Zeb spiritedly thumped his shoulder, and Kallus was barely able to make out his parting words. “I should have the hammock set up by 20:00 hours. Tree’s just off the path to the south of the base, can’t miss it.”
Kallus frowned as Zeb walked off. He hadn’t mentioned a hammock . Well, maybe he had. He took a steadying breath and walked towards the refresher to prepare himself for a… friendly, perfectly platonic sleepover. What could go wrong?
Zeb anchored the plasto-canvas to the branches at four points, stretching it taut like a tarp. His hands fumbled a bit as he knotted the cords at the corners, but he was too distracted to notice. His anticipation for his friend’s arrival was already making his skin grow hot. He reached up and tugged on the zipper of his jumpsuit.
Kallus hauled himself level with the hammock just in time to see Zeb roll the yellow garment down to his waist. His back was turned, affording Kallus a… charming view of his broad shoulders and toned latissimus muscles. A most undignified gasp escaped him.
Zeb spun around, ears alert and eyes wide. For a moment, Kallus thought he looked embarrassed.
“‘S warm enough with just me. You’ll sweat yer skin off in that,” Zeb said, shaking his head scornfully at Kallus’s layered attire as he settled down on the canvas. “B’sides, we’re both soldiers right? Nothin’ to be shy about.”
Kallus reluctantly removed his jacket, pants, and shoes, folded them neatly, and placed them on a branch. He then clambered onto the hammock beside Zeb in only his duracotton shirt and pantora-silk boxers.
A pleasant breeze drifted through the treetops. Privately, Kallus thought it would make him a bit chilly later, but tried to enjoy the moderate night air. He reclined fully, contentedly rubbing his feet together in his socks. Zeb leaned back as well, resting his head on his hands behind his neck. His extended elbow grazed Kallus’s shoulder and remained there.
Suddenly he didn’t think he’d have to worry about feeling cold.
“This is nice,” he commented.
“Yeah, it is,” Zeb agreed. Kallus could just make out his thoughtful expression, eyes gazing fixedly at the stars. “Y’know… we’re not so far from Lasan.”
Kallus sucked in a rapid breath. He felt the familiar pang in his heart that he suffered every time he thought about the now-desolate planet. Which was nearly every time he looked at his Lasat friend. Which was often.
“Some of the same stars are visible,” Zeb continued. “We used to look up at ‘em and pick out the mythical constellations. See, there’s the Child. And the Warrior. And…” He trailed off, frowning. He raised his right hand to the sky. “Huh. Now that I know about it, it almost looks like they’re pointing… at…”
Zeb fell silent and abruptly lowered his arm.
As the quiet elapsed, Kallus feared he meant to go to sleep directly. Then he asked if Kallus had received any interesting assignments lately. Kallus recounted the day’s events with rather more enthusiasm than they merited. Zeb seemed entertained, however, laughing loudly and occasionally jabbing Kallus in the ribs. He didn’t forget Kallus’s often-bruised bones though, and as a result his touches were gentle and almost… tender. Kallus laughed and wondered how he’d ever fall asleep with such company.
Kallus felt warm sunlight filtering through the canopy as his eyes stirred beneath their lids. He hadn’t slept so peacefully since arriving on Yavin’s moon. And he certainly had never slept deeply in the unforgiving interior of the Chimaera. He sighed and buried his face in the impossibly smooth, warm surface on which he rested. He was lying on his right side with his left arm reaching forward. He could almost imagine the comforting pressure of a pair of lips on the top of his head. His hand brushed against thick, soft fur, which he twined in his fingers. The lips twitched and a shaky exhale ruffled his hair with a groan.
His eyes flew open. He was draped almost completely on top of his half-naked worst-foe-turned-best-friend, shamelessly stroking his beard. The hammock had sagged during the night and now nearly enclosed both of them. Aghast, he immediately retracted his hand and pushed himself up off Zeb’s chest, stammering incoherently.
“I- what-”
“Kal, don’t-” Zeb said at the same time, for Kallus hadn’t noticed that the hammock’s moorings had slipped precariously. In his panic, one slipped free, nearly spilling the occupants to the forest floor. That is, it was prevented by the instinctive reflex of a prehensile foot. Zeb had caught them, and now there was even less room to maneuver.
As his new position involved practically straddling the straining Lasat, Kallus became aware of his firm thighs. And other organs. Blood rushed from the roots of his hair to his beard.
“All right there?” Zeb asked, almost maintaining a casual tone of voice.
“Yes- well- we can’t stay here forever, even though you’re- I mean, I’m- so comfortable-” he tripped over his words before finishing lamely, “I’ve got a meeting this morning.” This was technically true, although since he had no idea what time it was, he’d possibly already missed it.
“Sure,” Zeb responded mechanically, “Just climb up.” Relieved, Kallus grabbed Zeb’s shoulders, hoisted himself back up to the thickest branch, and began wriggling into his outer clothing. He grabbed his boots and glanced at Zeb, who was still casually dangling from the hammock with his eyes closed. Quickly looking away before he might observe anything else, he contemplated the shoes in his hands.
Zeb heard two soft thuds as Kallus’s boots hit the ground. He opened his eyes to see Kallus, still unshod, lowering himself off of the branch. The former Imperial paused and turned his head out towards the forest thoughtfully.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Garazeb,” he said gently, “Humans get morning wood too.” Then he dropped out of sight.
As he heard Kallus’s footfalls receding, Zeb sighed and hauled himself onto the branch. He leaned over and began unfastening the remaining cords. Realizing his mistake, he cursed his own disarrayed mind the night before. At least Kallus would never know he had accidentally tied the knots of the hammock in the Lovers configuration, rather than the spacious and safe Comrades alignment.
“Karabast,” he muttered as he mindlessly furled the canvas, “What the kriff is morning wood?”
That night, Zeb arrived at Kallus’s cubicle at the usual time to head towards the mess. Both parties carried out a cordial, if not perfectly normal, flow of conversation. As Kallus hurried towards his own quarters afterwards, he couldn’t help regretting that he must avoid sleeping with Zeb from then on at all costs.
And until the yet-distant victory at Endor, he succeeded.