Chapter Text
Kurshal nudged Iviin’tra forward and the graceful fathier complied, pulling the cart of building materials behind her. It was a far cry from their days racing through crowded tracks and occasionally trotting into the winner’s circle. Yet… there was peace in this life too.
Pabu was calm and quiet where the tracks were always loud. Iviin’tra was never one for the noise, always stressed and anxious. Here, she was calm and Kurshal followed suit. Their work acting as a transport was easy for Iviin’tra and she never seemed to mind, and neither did Kurshal for it brought them closer to their closest friend.
They had first met the rouge batch of clones when their former employer had them running a job at the same track Kurshal ran. Omega had been the one to befriend them first, after of course she befriended Iviin’tra. That kid could make any animal melt in her touch and become her friend if given enough time. It had just been a passing interaction, help them win a fathier race for their employer and call it a day.
Nearly a year later when they crossed again, Tech was different. Coming back to the track to try and find himself in the racing world after losing himself to the Empire. New racers are hazed and treated poorly. He won the race but the hazing turned deadly. Kurshal helped him get back to his brothers and they in turn brought Kurshal and Iviin’tra to Pabu. A place of peace and calm for everyone.
Reaching their destination at the top of a hill, Wrecker and a building crew came into view. Under their helmet, Kurshal watched him work and laugh with the others. These fleeting moments watching him be so happy created a similar warmth and butterflies that racing gave them.
“There you are!” Wrecker bounded up to them, “Worried yah got lost for a second.”
‘Just took longer to load up is all.’ They typed back on their datapad.
“I’ll get it unloaded much faster!” He beamed back, flexing proudly.
Kurshal waved him off, not exactly hoping for speed in his work. The longer he took, the longer they had an excuse to hang around.
“This house’s gonna be a perfect expansion for the family on Elmson,” Wrecker rambled as he unloaded the materials from the cart. “They just welcomed their fourth kid.”
Kurshal followed him, listening to him go on about this family. Eventually they stopped listening for content and rather just on his tone, how bright and cheerful it was. How much he smiled and laughed explaining something one of the kids did.
The cart emptied far too quickly and while Kurshal didn’t have any more deliveries for the day, Wrecker had much to do with the construction of the house. Lingering wasn’t proper and they couldn’t bother their best friend like that.
‘I will be off then, let you get back to work.’ They waited just long enough for him to read the message before turning back to Iviin’tra.
Except he grabbed their wrist, stopping them short. “Meet me on the beaches tonight, I have somethin’ for yah.” Wrecker’s face was hopeful, warm and inviting.
Anyone else and Kurshal would have fought the hold but he softened the harsh edges of their life. They nodded an agreement and he released them. A bright smile on his face and a hidden one on Kurshal’s.
“Better get back to it, I guess.” One final soft touch caressing the crown of their helmet and he was back to work.
Iviin’tra accepted Kurshal onto her back and trotted back towards their stable home without prompting. Just as well, Kurshal was deep in thought. Wrecker had become a lot more physical in their friendship in the last month. Dragging them along by the hand to keep up with him and his brothers. Pulling them away with a hand on their waist to free them from one of Tech’s info dumping sessions. Sitting so their thighs touched as he explained his newest interest in the evenings… sometimes his hand found its way to lay on top of theirs too.
Previously, any form of contact, not from a fathier, had Kurshal jamming a vibroknife into the other person. They couldn’t remember the first time Wrecker had touched them anymore; it just started happening one day and it felt good, felt safe. Just as listening to him talk and ramble for hours settled their soul. The first person not to question why they didn’t talk, just accepted it and moved on.
Dropping the cart at the stables Kurshal and Iviin’tra called home, Kurshal spent the evening racing down the beaches to get out the remainder of Iviin’tra’s energy. It wasn’t the same as the race track, but they made a track of it all their own. Jumping over rocks, taking the path along the water’s edge, a large loop in the shallows to race back down the beach stretch the way they came.
As night finally approached and Iviin’tra successfully tired, Kurshal waited for Wrecker and let their fathier wander the beach freely. They busied themselves with cleaning Iviin’tra’s tack and trying to not fret too much about what Wrecker had for them.
“Kurshal!” He called into the night and startled them from their thoughts. “Sorry ‘bout the wait!”
They waved him off to show it wasn’t any issue before patting the space next to them on the rock.
“I worked with Tech to make yah this.” He offered the large leather collar to them as he took his place on the rock. “It’s got a tracer in it so yah can know where Iviin’tra is but it’s also pretty.” He pointed out the small inlay tracking chip that was hidden in the large swirls and flowers carved into the leather. “I carved the design ‘nd stained it. It should match her other tack.”
He had taken great care to color match the stained leather and pick out colors for the flowers that complimented it and Kurshal’s blue helmet and chest armor. They couldn’t fathom how long this had taken to craft nor when he had the time to make such a thing.
‘It’s beautiful.’
He rubbed his neck, a red flush coming to his face. “It’s nothin’…”
‘No, it’s a work of art!’ They carefully traced the carved design before lifting their helmet up just enough to expose their mouth and whistle for Iviin’tra. They needed to display his craftsmanship immediately, to do otherwise would be a disservice.
“Iviin’tra looks lovely in it.” He agreed, watching Kurshal swap the plain leather collar for the new ornate one. Immediately she went back to running down the beach, drawing a laugh from the pair. “She really does fly.”
‘Her name does mean just that, I picked well.’ They settled back down next to Wrecker. His warmth easing into them as their thighs again brushed against one another.
“Yah know,” he shifted until his side also came to rest against theirs, “forgive me for being bold, but I like this.”
Kurshal felt butterflies in their stomach as if they were in the starting gates. Silently they nodded an agreement.
Slowly his arm crossed behind them, finding a place just past their hip and drawing himself ever so slightly lean over them. “I like you,” soft and light on the wind even for him.
Kurshal was frozen at this declaration. No one paid them any mind or thought them worth a moment of time beyond what task they could perform. Wrecker, however, had proven otherwise time and time again.
Their heart pounded like a pack of fathiers down the track and it did not stop when Wrecker brought his lips to the center diamond painted to the top of their helmet. He couldn’t have known it was right above their forehead, could he? It felt like he touched them through the beskar and sent them reeling.
“Is that okay?” His scarred face etched with worry as their mind slowly came back together.
“Yes.” Breathy, tight and rough; their limited vocal use was only for him. It hurt with their badly healed jaw and scarred mouth and face, but for their friend, they would manage a few words every now and again.
He sighed and pressed yet another kiss to the diamond, Kurshal practically melted into his side. If this was how it was going to be now, maybe they should take it back. Their heart wouldn’t stop running wild and their mind was spinning.
His arm snaked to their side, pulling them flush against his side and into the grove under his arm. Kurshal was a perfect fit there. His warmth was a balm that chased away lingering doubts that he was making a joke of this. His even breaths coaxed their lungs to do the same. As he started on his nightly rambles, the timber of his voice through his chest quieted their heart.
On the beach, under his arm, they signed with their hands a quiet message back. Unfortunately for both of them, Wrecker hated hand signals.
