Chapter Text
Cassian is working his way through the crowds at Cavo's. Squeezing those skinny hips between tight-packed tables and dropping a friendly hand on the shoulders of those sitting at them. He smiles, he makes small talk, he buys drinks for a select few marks from the serving droid as it passes. He's coming this way.
Brasso chews his lip and contemplates his own cup of fortified ale. He acts like he's unaware of Cass's approach, like he doesn't expect at least one of the off-worlders Cass has brushed past to exclaim suddenly about their missing credits. Like he's never seen Cass schmooze his way through the bar for advances on his schemes before.
Cassian sidles up to him and leans his elbows next to Brasso's on the bar. He eyes him and his smirk grows, and he shakes his head as Brasso resolutely keeps his eyes on his drink.
"I'm not lending you any money..." Brasso tells him, raising the cup.
Cass looks pleased. Brasso can tell, even from the corner of his eye. He orders two more drinks and slides one over.
"I don't want you to," Cassian says cryptically, and takes a mouthful of his own drink.
Brasso looks at him, maintaining a stony, neutral expression in case anyone in the bar is looking to see who Cass is conspiring with now. "Oh? Come to whisk me away on a holiday for two with all your earnings, then?"
Cass snorts and runs his thumb and forefinger over the wispy moustache he's been growing. He's trying to appear less baby-faced, but Brasso can still see the softness of his cheeks beneath the thin cover. "Sure, actually," Cassian cocks an eyebrow and meets Brasso's skepticism with a look that would turn most knees liquid. "That's just what it is."
Brasso's eyes narrow. There's no way he's going to rush into a trap like that, no matter how prettily Cass has arranged it. He finishes his drink and studies the one Cass bought him, taking it in his hand but not lifting it to his mouth.
"It's gonna be great," Cass sidles along the bar, touching their elbows together and leaning in as though he's sharing a secret. So much for Brasso's hopes of not looking conspiratorial. "Just you and me. A short break to the seaside. A bit of exercise on the beach. And we'll be back for the first ringing-in of the work week."
Brasso has to take a drink to give himself time to parse this. Cass smiles, like his doing so has sealed the deal.
"What?" Brasso concedes the question, turning to Cass and meeting his keenly assessing expression.
Cass can smile in a way where his lips convey one emotion while his eyes say something totally different. Usually, people receive a smile that looks genuine, but that masks a hardness in his gaze; Brasso, however, is more accustomed to this one, where a sharp, almost cruel smile is accompanied by warmth and respect nestled deep in Cass's eyes.
"I need your help," Cass says candidly. "I had to jettison my last cargo - Corpo fly-by."
Brasso sighs and closes his eyes. He doesn't like hearing about the near-misses, and there seems to be all too many of them these days.
"It's fine, they were never going to catch me with it," Cassian clucks defensively at Brasso's response. "But I need that gear."
A short break to the seaside. The beach. Brasso manages not to rub his palm over his face in exasperation, but only because he has a near-full cup of ale to drink. He takes a large mouthful and hisses through gritted teeth, "Please tell me it's this side of the sea, Cass?"
"Yes!" Cassian is still on the defensive. "Yeah, of course. It's just... it's a little way along the coast..."
"You said we'd be back before the week started -"
"Yeah, Brasso, I'm not talking about taking a speeder to haul this stuff," Cass says urgently. "I can get the ship off Pegla again, we don't need to - Brasso. Brasso look at me, we won't even be leaving atmo -"
Brasso's shaking his head and Cass is gripping his arm, repeating his name, repeating that he wouldn't ask if he didn't need to...
"Cass no. No. Ask someone else," Brasso rubs his forehead. He doesn't fly. Cass knows he doesn't fly.
"I need you, this stuff is heavy, Brasso," Cass insists.
"How did you get it on board in the first place?"
"Droids, how do you think?"
"Ask Vetch, Cass."
"No, I need you," Cass is right up in his space now as Brasso tries to turn away from his appeals. "I need someone I can trust, Brasso."