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Moran appears in the saloon looking hassled, his usually placid expression sour. He leans up against the bar halfway down, ordering a Sarlac Bite from Monk. Cal’s eyebrows raise as he stabs his fork into his lunch, glancing sideways at the Mirialan. “Strong drink for hardly midday.”
“There’s a bounty hunter outside looking for you,” Moran tells him with a frown. Cal snorts gently; did a shipment get disrupted or something? Moran’s usually much calmer about setbacks.
Oh, maybe that ex of his was finally supposed to show up. Rough day for it.
“Big,” Moran adds when Cal doesn’t respond with appropriate concern. “Not Rayvis big,” he cuts in on himself with a thoughtful huff, accepting a glass from Monk and staring into the red-purple liquor, “but big for most.” Cal just shrugs. In his experience, bigger just means slower. He pushes his fork through several tubers, humming in acknowledgement.
Moran takes a swig of his drink, and his lips pull back from his teeth as he pushes out a breath, shuddering. “Oh,” he adds, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “and he’s got Turgle.”
Cal swears, slamming his fork down and standing up. “Save this for me, Monk,” he calls out to the bartender, casting Moran an irritated glance. “I’ll be back for it.”
Kriffing… bounty hunters.Why can’t they just stick to their targets? They’re always getting everyone else involved.
–
Being back on Koboh feels strange to Bode. It’s been six months since they found out all the compasses were broken beyond repair, six months since he realized there was nothing to hope for in terms of a true safe haven. It’s been five months since Denvik made it very clear that if Bode didn’t tell him more about Cere Junda’s location, he wouldn’t only withhold the information about Tayala’s murderer, but Kata would suffer the consequences. Five months since he disappeared from Cal’s retinue to set up a safehouse of his own, since he feed Lank some half-true information about the already-destroyed Path safehouse on Jedha and informed Lank ‘with certainty’ that both Cal Kestis and Cere Junda would be present in the ruins on a specific day and time. It’s been four months since Bode informed the Inquisitorius that Lank Denvik was harboring a Jedi, giving them the same date as Denvik’s Jedha operation. Four months since he stole away with Kata in the confusion. Four months of running from planet to moon to station to planet trying to shake their tails. Four months waiting for them to have enough breathing room to stash Kata in the safehouse before seeking help- but it won’t be safe long. The Empire is relentless.
That makes it five months since he’s set foot on Koboh or been in any kind of contact with Cal.
The Imperial presence on Koboh seems to have grown. He’s not sure if that’s because they’re researching the Koboh matter, or the arrays pointing into the Abyss, or the Abyss itself- running from the Empire with his daughter means staying out of their sight as much as possible, which also means he doesn’t have access to their information. They’re patrolling all over the wilds, and he’s sure they all have his file by now- once the Inquisitorius found out about Lank’s Jedi and showed up on Nova Garon, it would’ve been obvious who his Jedi was, after all.
The essential thing here is that no one knows who he is, familiar prospectors, raiders, troopers or otherwise. He’s a spy, so changing his posture and presence isn’t too difficult. He speaks more gruffly, in choppy short sentences that lack the smooth friendliness he’d adopted before, dresses entirely in dented bounty hunting gear, bulky, mismatched armor strapped to his chest and on his thighs, plates attached to his clunky boots. He still has a jetpack but it’s a different model than before, and his blasters are at his hips instead of on a shoulder holster. His armored shoulderpads are all angles to hide the round, broad shape of his own, and they look like they’re made for a man that is trying too hard to intimidate. (They were; that man is no longer alive, which is what happens when you point a blaster at his daughter.)
He’s exhausted, he’s dirty, he’s in a bad mood, he’s anxious about Kata being alone- even if its on the Shattered Moon less than an hour’s ride away, accompanied by several droids that remember Cal Kestis and that know all the safe places to hide her- and of course the first Rambler resident he comes across is Turgle. Turgle who comes up to him and immediately tries to sell him some trinket to protect him from airborn Koboh matter- the crap he’s personally and deliberately dropped stormtroopers into, hearing their choking gurgles as it essentially digested them alive. He grits his teeth as Turgle bounces around him, eager and loud.
Fine. This will make things easy for him. He snatches Turgle up- he squeals, kicking his feet, but his strength is negligible and so is his weight. Bode holds him in place with one arm tight around his chest and holds a blaster to Turgle’s head, who goes quiet for a second, and then he starts making rapid little squawks. Bode sighs. Then, in a voice made deeper and more distorted by his vocoder, barks out: “bring me Cal Kestis or the frog gets it.”
Does he expect anyone to actually betray Cal to a strange bounty hunter? No. He does expect someone to tell Cal, though, and for Cal to just appear, brandishing his saber, ready to fight, without a single thought to the possible danger.
“Well?” He calls out as some of the populace stand around, watching him- Doma in the shade of her shop, Gido and Gulu across the street from their home, waiting for a safe moment to cross. He saw Moran slide into Pyloon’s- he’s just killing time.
Cal does indeed appear, his expression cross, his hand already going to his belt to unclip his saber. Bode drops Turgle to the ground with a snarled “hold still, frog,” his blaster pressing into Turgle’s cold flesh.
Cal stalls halfway to him, and for a moment his expression is completely blank. His gaze flicks over Bode, head to toe and back, before focusing on the hand holding the blaster. His breath stutters for a moment. Bode’s mouth twists under his helmet. Cal’s face morphs into something sweet and hopeful; tension ratchets up Bode’s spine, and he squints disbelievingly at the Jedi. Cal’s hands go up in a gesture of surrender, and he starts to walk slowly towards them, his mouth soft and half-open. Tender? What the fuck, thinks Bode. His head tilts; Doma retreats into her shop.
“Easy,” Cal calls out to him, spreading his arms out, his empty hands turned up, “no need to get Turgle involved in all this. It’s me you want, right?” He emphasizes ‘want’ instead of ‘me’, which is a strange way to say that sentence, and his eyes spark when he does, one corner of his mouth tilting up.
Bode grits his teeth, his shoulders stiffening, his eyebrows drawn together in a confused frown. Is Cal this weirdly casual with all the bounty hunters? He’s never been around when they show up for him, (never appreciated the way Caij would drop their locations and Cal would disappear without backup)- he feels offended, jealous- not that he has any right to be, but...
If he’d been proud about how easy it was to get Cal to flirt with him before, when Cal was supposed to be his mark and Bode was supposed to be just another merc, then he was the idiot. Hells.
Bode pulls his second blaster from its holster, pointing it directly at Cal’s chest. “Come with me and I’ll let the frog go.”
Cal’s gaze narrows on the blaster- but instead of stiffening or preparing to launch out of the way, instead of reaching for his lightsaber like a reasonable Jedi, like a Jedi used to having a blaster pointed at him, Cal licks his bottom lip slowly before running his upper teeth against the wet flesh. Then he slides into an easy slouch, a thumb hooked into the front of his belt, and his bright eyes flick up to stare Bode in the face. He grins, a grin that Bode has seen many a time himself, that he thought was reserved for Cal’s family. He frowns.
“Sure, I’ll come with you,” Cal agrees, and the way he says the verb, sticky and slick, makes Bode swallow.
“What the fuck,” he thinks again, and realizes he’s said it aloud when he hears the vocoder distortion on it. There is no way Cal is seriously flirting with a bounty hunter like this right now.
Cal’s eyes crease with laughter, his smile broadening, made light by elation. “Why don’t we talk?” he offers, and he inclines his head towards the entrance to the High Republic meditation chamber beside them. “I know a place we won’t be bothered.”
It’s a weird kriffing offer from any angle. Talk? Bounty hunters are after bounty, and that’s all. A place we won’t be bothered?! What the fuck is Cal on? Aghast, Bode stares at him, not sure what to say, what to even do.
The whole situation is ridiculous, but ultimately, Cal is offering what he wants- a safe and hidden place where he can reveal himself to Cal without risk of discovery and explain what’s going on with him and Kata. He would’ve preferred a place he could control, his ship maybe, so Cal can’t just leave if he’s angry, but the meditation chamber is nearby and only Cal has the gadgetry to get inside. Turgle keeps making little panicked squeaks and Bode can feel him vibrating through the blaster against his temple, so Bode sighs and reholsters it. Turgle takes off like a shot, all limbs.
His second blaster is still trained on Cal, but the Jedi doesn’t seem to notice or care. He reaches for the encoder in his back pocket, as if that isn’t the sort of thing that normally gets a guy shot. The chamber door opens. Cal backs up into it with his hands raised again, encoder in view, grinning at Bode, watching him through half-lidded eyes. Bode hesitates for a step, seriously left-footed by this absurd behavior, and follows Cal in. The door closes behind them and the floor immediately starts to descend. Bode grits his teeth, holsters his blaster. Cal lowers his hands but continues to watch him intently.
Bode huffs. He takes off his helmet, lowers it to his side- Cal slams up against him before he even has time to breathe, crushing his lips against Bode’s. Arms unexpectedly full, Bode drops the helmet and stumbles back, bouncing against the wall. “I thought that was you,” Cal puffs against his mouth, pawing at Bode’s thighs, tugging impatiently on the armor plates hard between them. “Where’ve you been?”
Bode plants a firm hand on Cal’s chest, pushing him back, holding him at arms’ length. Cal’s pout speaks volumes; he looks delectable as he peers up at Bode, pushing out a swelling, shiny lower lip. “What do you mean you thought that was me?” Bode huffs, annoyed. “I made very sure I didn’t seem like me.”
“Yeah, but.” Cal’s gaze flicks over him again, and when their eyes meet Cal’s are darker than before, pupils blown out. He licks his lips slowly, punctuates his words with a pop of his mouth. “You can’t change your shape, can you?” Bode chokes when Cal’s fingers curl into his belt, when he tries to tug himself closer. “Your two hands, holding blasters? I’d know them anywhere.”
Bode feels heat catch in his chest, spreading through his veins, simmering low in his gut.
They were never lovers before. Had he thought about it? Sure. When Cal looks the way he does, who hasn’t? Gabby and Bravo had both separately engaged Bode in a conversation about how absurdly attractive Cal was within days of meeting him- there’s a line, you know? And had he enjoyed flirting with Cal? Absolutely. Having Cal’s attention did wonders for his ego. But they hadn’t actually done anything. He hadn’t even known with certainty if Cal was actually interested. He hadn’t wanted to know, not while Denvik held his leash.
But now he’s a free man.
No, no. There’s still- “Cal, we have to talk.”
Cal’s smile immediately falls. He takes a step back, pulls into himself, wraps his arms around his own waist. He drops his gaze, looks away.
Oooooh Kriff.
Bode swallows. “No, not- not about that.” Cal presses his lips together, swallowing whatever he wants to say. He glances up at Bode, anxious, small, waiting. Bode exhales shakily. “About where I’ve been, and why, and- there’s things you need to know before you decide-” Cal looks sad and hurt, his fingers kneading his own flesh to stay calm, and Bode feels like he’s going a little insane. “The question you just asked me.” But with Cal looking like that, Bode can’t focus on the conversation they’re supposed to have, on the things he was going to ask of Cal, because all he wants to do is reassure him and Force, hadn’t he wanted a taste from the beginning, isn’t he- Cal lets his arms fall loose, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side, biting his bottom lip until it blooms red and Bode’s whole body is humming from Cal’s kiss not a minute ago.
Oh, fuck it. He reaches up to unlatch his armor. It crashes to the floor a moment before Bode crashes into Cal, and the sound Cal makes when Bode’s mouth meets his blows all reasonable thought right out of Bode’s head.
–
“For the record,” Bode sighs, scrubbing at the eyelashes of his right eye, “I did try to have this conversation with you before.” Cal hums from where he’s tucked up against Bode’s chest, patiently worrying at a mark he’d made into Bode’s warm skin. “Cal.”
“I’m listening.” Bode can hear Cal’s pout. He props himself up on his elbows; Cal protests the change but he just slithers down so that his head is resting on Bode’s bare stomach, blinking up at him.
The floor of the chamber elevator was a terrible idea. It’s all sharp angles and hard surfaces, and Bode’s back is going to be a mess tomorrow. And so is Cal’s front, come to think of it. Bode squints down at Cal. The hickies on his throat are already blooming bright. Bode stares.
No, he needs to focus.
“You’re probably going to be angry-”
“-I won’t be angry.”
Bode huffs. He pinches Cal’s thigh, grunts when Cal smacks a bruise on his knee in retaliation. “You’re probably going to be angry,” Bode repeats, “and it’s fair if you are, but please don’t leave until I’ve had a chance to tell you everything.”
Cal snorts. He rolls onto his side, resting a hand on Bode’s chest, idly playing with the hair there. “You make it sound like you’re going to tell me you sold us out to the Empire.”
There’s a weighty, awkward pause. The blissful joy on Cal’s face drains into something serious and drawn. Bode holds his gaze, though, openly apologetic. He came to ask Cal for help, yes, but he also came to tell him the truth. To lay out his sins.
He really meant to do it before- anything. How could he have known that Cal would throw himself- literally- at Bode the moment they saw each other again? Bode closes his eyes, squares his shoulders. Steels himself. When he peers at Cal the Jedi is watching him with his jaw set, silent and still. “So I was an ISB plant.”
In a heartbeat Cal is on his feet. He doesn’t say anything- instead he storms through the small space, gathering his clothes. He turns his back to Bode to tug his pants on; his gestures are sharp, angry.
Bode sighs. “I say ‘was’ because I’m not anymore. Obviously.” He feels like he’s talking to himself. He sits up the rest of the way. He raises his voice a little, though the space can’t be more than a twelve-foot square. “Are you going to let me finish?”
Cal glares over his shoulder and Bode groans. He scoots back so he’s sitting against a wall. Cal throws his pants at him; Bode pushes the fabric aside, lets it sit beside him. The floor is cool under his thighs. “Believe it or not,” he continues in a softer voice, hurt and knowing he doesn’t deserve to be, “I don’t think that’s the thing you’ll be angriest about.”
“What the kriff is that supposed to mean,” Cal hisses, turning around. He tugs his belt closed too tightly; Bode can see the leather biting into Cal’s hip. He’s really made a mess of this. Cal starts looking around the floor wildly- Bode wonders if it’s because Cal doesn’t want to look at him, because the redhead is looking for a distraction. Cal’s gaze stops suddenly, fixed on something beside Bode, right in his space. Bode checks; it’s Cal’s saber, come unclipped in their haste earlier. Bode sighs. It’ll be easier to just… with a gesture, he Force Lifts the lightsaber, floating it over to Cal.
Cal stares at it with huge eyes that slowly transfer to Bode’s face. He blinks and they rim red, the low light gleaming in them. For a few moments the lightsaber just hangs between them, gently rotating. Cal snatches it from the air to hook it to his belt, bends his head down, scrubs at his face with his forearm. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, his voice ragged and cracking.
Bode’s mouth pulls at the corner, shame eating away the rest of the buoyant feeling his reunion with Cal had accumulated. “Because I was an ISB plant,” Bode answers honestly. He has nothing else to offer, and he wants nothing else than for Cal to know. “Because Kata was depending on me and I didn’t know what you would do. She was their hostage Cal. And-” he pushes his hand through his hair, exhaling a hard breath through his nose. “And I put her there.”
“You put her there?!”
He flinches at Cal’s disbelief, lowers his gaze to his hands, twisted together. “We were on the run, she was constantly in danger, I knew Denvik from the days of the Republic… it was the safest place I could find for her.”
“The ISB? The safest place for her?” Cal sneers, doing up the hooks on his jacket.
“It was,” Bode mutters sourly. “Until it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Cal spits, and Bode feels resentment curl in his chest. Things are so black and white for Cal. Empire, bad, Rebel, good. He doesn’t think about safety and he doesn’t understand it. Cal’s a kriffing liability- Bode’s the idiot who went and fell for him anyway.
“It stopped being safe because I refused to give him Cere and her Archive,” Bode snaps, tugging his pants on.
He is met with a horrible silence. His shoulders slumping, Bode slides his clothes back on. He leaves the armor on the floor. he tugs his holster belt back on, checks both blasters, before chancing a glance at Cal’s face.
Cal is staring back at him with a twisted mouth, halfway between a tremulous smile and a pinched frown, and watery eyes. Bode hesitates, shifts his weight nervously. “Cal?” He finds himself, suddenly and again, with his arms full, Cal lips pressed against his, Cal’s heart thudding against his chest.
Bode grips Cal’s waist, runs a broad hand down Cal’s spine as he holds him. Cal pushes his face into the junction of Bode’s shoulder and neck, shuddering; Bode kisses his temple, the crown of his head. He wants to- he shouldn’t. Should he?
…No reason not to, aside from habit. Cal knows, now. Bode takes a slow breath to steady himself. Then, slowly, carefully, he opens himself up to Cal in the Force.
A sob cracks out of Cal. The fire of Cal’s Force aura whisks Bode up, envelops him completely. He hasn’t felt anyone’s Force presence in a decade- but more than that, it's never been like this, a fierce light that heats him to his core, that grips him, that tries to sink in.
He lets it.
“Hold on Cal,” he whispers in the dry air between them, his throat tight. “There’s something else you need to know.”
“There’s more?!” Cal whines into his shoulder. His arms tighten around Bode’s waist to an uncomfortable degree. Bode taps Cal’s forearm twice, wincing; the pressure eases a little, but there’s no question that Cal is clinging.
“Kata’s also Force Sensitive.”
Cal doesn’t say anything. He’s shifting his weight forward and backwards, side to side, making both of them sway. Bode stares at the ceiling. He gets it- there’s a lot to parse through.
Maybe he should’ve waited. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to stop Cal initially, so they could talk. Maybe he should’ve found someone else to help them. Maybe-
“Where is she right now?”
Bode breathes out. He realizes, suddenly, how tense he is when his shoulders sag, finally relaxing. Cal leans back, his hands curling around Bode’s hips, looking up at him with a determined expression.
“On the moon. It’s just the droids up there again, now. She’ll be safe, but I won’t leave her there more than a few hours.”
“You won’t have to,” Cal cuts in. He straightens, squaring his shoulders. Bode knows he won’t be able to argue with whatever Cal’s decided. “We should go get her right away.”
Bode blinks at him, then frowns- he’s getting watery-eyed too, and he doubts he can hide his gratefulness from Cal at this point, not with the way they’re connected, open to each other, but he’s worried. Cal has a tendency to act before he thinks things through, and Bode doesn’t want to chance it blind. “Cal, we don’t even have a plan.”
“You have a plan,” Cal corrects with a quirked eyebrow. “That’s why you came to find me, right? You have a plan already.”
Struck dumb, Bode can’t do anything but take Cal’s face in his hands, can’t but press kisses to every inch of skin, and try not to cry.
–
Half of Rambler’s Reach must be there when the Meditation Chamber’s circular door opens nearly an hour later. The tension drops measurably when Cal steps out, clearly unhurt, in deep conversation with the bounty hunter as he tugs his glove back on. The hunter seems to have abandoned all his armor, and is shrugging on his jetpack. Moran, eyebrows raised, exchanges a look with Mosey- her lips curl in a delighted, if mischievous, smile.
Cal pauses in his stride; blinks bemusedly at everyone gathered. Then, chuckling to himself, he raises a hand. “We’re good, everyone! It’s just Bode.”
“Cal,” Bode admonishes, shoving him. The Jedi cackles.
“It’s Rambler’s Reach. They’re not going to give you up, Bode. I’m a much more valuable target.”
“Cal!”
Mosey and Moran exchange another glance, both smirking this time. Neither of them missed the fat, bitten mark blooming on Cal’s throat.