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It started off small.
Like most of their days at the Royal Imperial Academy, Eli and Thrawn found themselves holed up in a quiet corner of the library, sitting side by side at a table with datapads strewn around them. Eli was three cups of caf in and ready to pull his hair out over the hundreds of different models of starships he needed to know for the tomorrow’s exam.
The fact that Thrawn was sitting next to him, so utterly cool and collected did nothing to ease his growing irritation. Irritation which was making his studying more difficult. Which was in turn making him even more irritated. He was stressed and he was spiraling and the diagrams in front of him had begun to blur in his mind.
His leg was bouncing beneath the table and he felt nearly ready to give up and accept that he would fail the exam and be kicked out of the academy once and for all when he felt Thrawn’s leg press against his beneath the table.
And it was as if every thought running through his head had disappeared and his whole body froze. All he could do was zero in on the subtle pressure against his leg, Thrawn’s knee pressed into his thigh down below the table.
Eli waited for Thrawn to pull away, to realize what he was doing and offer a quick apology and put more space between them.
But Thrawn’s leg remained and he said nothing - only continued to stare at his datapad making no indication he was at all affected by the fact that their legs were pressed against each other.
Eli blinked. Once then twice.
Then he decided he may as well take advantage of the momentarily silence in his head to return back to the diagram of a TIE fighter sitting in front him.
The next day, he aced his exam.
The…occurrences - as Eli called them to himself - continued often after that. In momentary brushing off their hands, a light palm on his back whenever Eli walked past, legs pressed together under tables.
Growing up traveling so often with his family’s shipping company, Eli got to know first hand the ways in which different species just did things differently. Eli figured in this case, it was probably just some Chiss thing. Maybe the Chiss were all just very touchy-feely sorts and personal space to a Chiss meant something different than what it was to humans. He wasn’t sure.
He never said anything though, it was not as though he really minded all that much.
…
Eli winced as he stood up from his chair. The question came not a moment later, “Ensign, how is your injury?”
Eli had spent the past two days with his left side covered in bacta patches, hoping to heal a blaster burn that had just nicked him during a particularly nasty firefight with some pirates.
They had of course come out from the skirmish successful as always thanks to Thrawn’s ingenious planning and they were relatively unscathed with the exception of Eli’s small injury. The bacta had worked its magic but he was still left with a small patch of tender, red skin that flared up with small movements.
Eli had always been pretty good at hiding his discomfort, but of course there was little he could ever hide from Thrawn. “Doin’ alright. Just a little tender still,” Eli replied as Thrawn also stood from his chair and approached him. “Nothing a little more time shouldn’t heal.”
“May I?” Thrawn asked, gesturing towards Eli’s side.
“Huh? Oh-“ Eli nearly jumped as Thrawn slipped his hand beneath the bottom of Eli’s tunic and pressed his hand against Eli’s wound on his side. The sudden pressure of Thrawn’s hand on the sensitive skin of the wound was a shock of course but not so much as the close proximity created by the gesture.
Eli felt the heat rush to his face as Thrawn applied various levels of pressure, wincing when he reached the areas still most sensitive.
“Yes, that should heal well.” Thrawn concluded, nodding as he removed his hand and walked back to his seat to return his attention to the datapad he had left behind.
Eli was left standing there feeling slightly winded, his heart pounding out of his chest.
…
Eli had decided that Thrawn was possibly the most handsy person he had ever met. And despite the fact that Thrawn touched him so often, he had never figured out how to get used to it.
But Eli did think about it often.
Very often.
Especially now.
As Thrawn lowered himself to his knees on the floor in front of him.
Of course it had started off as innocently as a round of practice sparring could between the two of them.
When Eli had raised his stick above his head, Thrawn had stopped mid-strike. “What is that?”
Eli lowered his arms, his chest heaving with exertion. He held the stick with one hand as he pulled down his shirt that had hiked itself up his torso with his other hand. “What is what?”
Just as he let his hand drop from the hem of his shirt, Thrawn reached out with his free hand and lifted it once more. ”Hey! What-“
“What is this?” Thrawn asked, gesturing to Eli’s stomach.
“Wha-“ Eli looked down to see Thrawn’s finger pointed towards the center of his stomach. “What, my belly button? Surely you know what a belly button is?”
“I am familiar with them, yes. Why does yours look like-“ glowing red eyes narrowed in curiosity, “-that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s-“ he leaned his head down as if for a closer look. “May I?”
“Uh-“
That is how Eli found himself standing in the sparring room with Thrawn on his knees in front of him, one hand holding up Eli’s shirt, the other wrapped firmly around Eli’s hip as he lowered his face to inspect Eli’s belly button.
Every thought in Eli’s brain vanished. His arms hung loosely at his sides as he stared down at the top of Thrawn’s head, who was eye level with his-
Eli swallowed hard as snapped his attention on the wall across from him as a rush of heat flooded through him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think of anything but the suggestive nature of whatever was happening down below him - dry snack bars scratching his throat , the emptiness of hyperspace on a days long journey, the burn of a blaster in his side, the feel of his feet on the cold floor in the mor-
He nearly yelped as he felt a finger brush gently over his belly button. Thrawn, using the hand still held around his waist, was brushing the pad of his thumb up and down over his belly button, tracing the distance from the softest part of Eli’s belly below to the firmer area above.
This brought Eli’s attention back with a laser focus down to see Thrawn staring at his stomach with unbridled attention.
Moving his thumb. Up and down. Up and down. Up and d-
“Why does it extrude?” Thrawn’s words filled the room that had gone silent, making Eli realize how loud his shallow breaths had become.
“Um-“ For the life of him, Eli couldn’t remember what Thrawn had asked him.
Especially not when Thrawn looked up at him. All he could do was suck in a sharp breath.
When had it gotten so hot in this room?
“I-“
“More research will be necessary.” Thrawn said as he let go of Eli and stood up. “Ensign,” he said, nodding once and walking calmly out the door.
Eli stood there, shirt askew, face flushed, with his clothes feeling just a little too tight, for as long as it took him to regain any semblance of thought.
It took a while.
That damn Chiss thing, he cursed to himself, righting his shirt once more.
…
It took years for Eli to even get close to getting used to the Chiss thing. The more he got used to it, the more common it became and the less Eli seemed to mind the gentle hand holding onto his as they sat side by side or the gentle pull of Eli’s feet into Thrawn’s lap. Sometimes it was Thrawn’s hands, carding through Eli’s hair. Sometimes it was Eli held tight in Thrawn’s side as they studied reports.
Sometimes, Eli thought, Thrawn just needed some part of Eli to touch, to ground him as that incredible mind raced with thoughts.
Eli really didn’t mind.
…
Eli wrapped his hand around the cool metal of the blaster Thrawn had handed him. He felt his doubts nagging at him. It was all a little too precarious - playing this insane role, pretending to be ‘Horatio Figg’ while wearing Thrawn’s tunic that was at least two sizes two big for him, trying desperately not to think about how much the smell of Thrawn clung to the fabric.
He forced those thoughts away - the whole essence of being a scoundrel was self-confidence. If he couldn’t fake that, he was dead. “Where will you be?” He asked.
”Engineering our escape,” Thrawn said, taking a step closer to Eli until their toes nearly touched. “In the meantime,” his voice softened momentarily and his hand reached up to rest itself on Eli’s cheek, lifting his face as Thrawn lowered his until they were nose to nose. His thumb brushed Eli’s warming skin right beneath his eye as they looked at one another.
Eli felt the moment stretch until Thrawn’s voice returned to its normal tenor once more, “Learn as much about them as you can,” he instructed as his hand dropped and he took a step back from Eli to pilot the ship once more.
“Right.” Eli said, his own hand coming up to feel the heat of his skin where Thrawn had touched him. The freighter was coming into view ahead, flashing approach lights on the ship marking their destination. Eli blinked once in a futile attempt to refocus. “Just remember that I can’t keep this role up forever.”
…
“I want to apologize for earlier,” Vah’nya said from across the table.
Eli looked up from his mug of caccoleaf. The two of them had been sitting together in comfortable silence after a quick but nasty battle with a small Grysk force. Despite his lack of involvement in the action, Eli was still coming down from the adrenaline high he always experienced after a battle.
“Hmm? What for?”
“For what happened during the battle?”
Eli stared across at her, confusion written on his face.
“When the ship shook?” She looked at him expectantly. When it was clear he wasn’t going to catch on, she furrowed her brow at him. “When I…grabbed onto you?”
“What?” Eli replied. “Oh- you don’t have to apologize for that.”
“Oh-“ She said, apprehension clear in her voice.
“What?”
“Well,” She hesitated. “I suppose that’s just a human thing.”
“What is?”
“It’s- You must understand we Chiss are very protective of our personal space. I suppose we are…very aware of our contact with others, keeping it of course to only what is minimally necessary. Anything else is considered…” She seemed to look for the right word. “Improper. But-” she shrugged, “I would’ve thought you’d learned that from all your time with Thrawn.”
“Right.” Eli said, “Of course.”