Kenobi Clone Trooper - Blog Posts

My bus ride became so interesting 🤧😀

I am in love with your Tai series <3

Your smut does not need work; it is perfect

Loveliness

Pairings: Clone Trooper Tai (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: sex. That's right, beloveds, this is the chapter where they finally fuck! Porn with feelings, grinding, nipple play, fingering, finger sucking, love bites, hickies, unprotected p in v (bad form, I know), multiple orgasms, light hair pulling, squirting, a good mix of cute sex & sexy sex

Notes: I really just needed an excuse to use this gif. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Also, I accidentally posted it mid-edit, had to private to finish it, then public it, it was a whole fiasco. Apologies for any confusion!

@moodymisty - come get your Tai juice ;)

It's been two weeks; two amazing, beautiful, wonderful weeks. Tai has somehow managed to lift the doom and gloom of this miserable old planet just by being himself, by simply existing around you. From the moment you first kissed him, it's been one continuous high of giddy laughter and lazy afternoon snuggles turned into hot, heady make out sessions that turn your brain to mush.

It's been bliss, he's been bliss, and you wouldn't change any of it. But you want more. That's just the problem, though. You want all of him and you can tell he wants all of you, but you're a right pair, the two of you, and you're at an impasse because you're both too nervous to go much further.

The memory of two evenings ago is still fresh in your mind, even now on your way home from work. His broad chest under your splayed hands, your legs draped over his thighs where you'd straddled him, his scruff scratching pleasantly over your skin as you'd pressed kisses to chin, his neck, the lobe of his ear. The way he'd run his hands up the length of your spine, half dragging your shirt up with it, grunting softly into your hair, Maker, it was making you wet just thinking about it.

But then he'd bucked up into the apex of your thighs and you'd practically collapsed onto him, moaning so loudly that it took you both by surprise.

"Fuck, Tai," you breathed against his shoulder.

He'd gone still under you. You could still feel the vague shape of him hard on the inside of your thigh and ghosting against your warmth, and it sent a thrill through your entire body. Half drunk on pleasure, you dropped your hips just so and ground yourself into him. It was all you could think about, chasing after his body, after the arousal that was building so steadily in your stomach that you felt sure it would swallow you whole. You just wanted him and nothing else, just-

Tai's hands on your hips, firmly guiding you to stop moving, drew you from your reverie. Something was wrong, you immediately sensed it in the way his entire body had turned stiff. You drew back enough to look him in the eyes and frowned.

"What is it?"

He shook his head. Entirely unhelpful. So you watched him for a moment, studied the crease in his brow and the purse of his lips, noted the rising and falling of his chest and the pulse leaping out at his throat. He was still firm and warm under your thighs, but he'd shifted his groin away from you at some point.

Something awful began growing in your stomach in place of your arousal. Why was he pulling away? Had you touched or kissed him somewhere he hadn't wanted? Was he overwhelmed, maybe? Your chest felt like it was about to split open as an ugly monster reared its head in the back of your mind. Was he suddenly repulsed by you, by some part of your body?

Your throat threatened to close up on you. "Tai?" you whispered. "Talk to me."

"I just need a moment."

"Did I do something?"

His gaze was on you in an instant as a hand came up to cup your chin. "No. No, my love." There was that smile you loved so dearly, peeking out at the corners of his mouth. "It's me. There's too much going on in this old head of mine."

You wanted to press for more, maybe just enough to clarify that the problem wasn't you, that he wasn't stuck in his head thinking about how much he didn't want to touch you, but you were worried how the question might come across and you didn't want to bother him more than he already seemed to be. Maybe it was silly to feel so startlingly insecure, you reasoned, but Tai had never reacted to you like that before. You didn't understand it.

And so the two of you had settled for cuddling instead, his arm around your shoulders while you lounged for the last hour before he headed out for work.

Now, though, you're bordering on becoming a nervous wreck. You can see your apartment building through the neon haze of the street and it sends your heart leaping into your throat. Because he'll be there when you open the door. He'll most likely greet you with a kiss, ask you about work, and you'll spend some time together on the sofa before he's gone again. And then you'll go to bed alone, miserable, confused, and just a bit unsatisfied. You already did that last night, you're not keen to try it again today. Which means you'll have to have a discussion.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

He can't keep this going for much longer and he knows it, but neither can he quiet that voice that haunts him every time he touches you. The voice that tells him he's a lecherous old creep, a fool too old and too used up to be good enough for you, that tells him he's nothing more than cannon fodder, than a pair of bloodstained hands too red to ever deserve to touch you. That kriffing voice that makes him want to crawl into a hole and hide until you finally come to your senses and leave him.

But then he thinks about the first time you ever spoke to him. You were so stupidly nervous that you'd said nearly all the wrong things, but through his damaged pride and your embarrassment he'd managed to catch a glimpse of something, something that made you different from every other civvy who'd thrown credits his way. You'd been kind to him, been a friend when he had no one, offered up your home and then your heart. And now that things are progressing, you've offered him the rest of you.

Dank farrik, he's not sure he's ever wanted someone the way he wants you. Not a one of the cute civvies he met at 79's ever captivated him the way you do now. He wants to treat you right, romance you, lay you back on your bed and bury himself in you forever. Anywhere, any way you want him, for however long you desire. He just- fucking hells, he needs help getting there. He needs to get out of his own head.

The keypad at the entry chimes and his back goes ramrod straight. He runs a hand over his freshly buzzed head and sighs. He needs to talk to you.

There's a glassy look to your eyes. Tai's not sure if you're about to cry or not, but you look anxious at the very least. And you're not meeting his gaze properly, shifting about as you toe off your shoes and set your things down on the table.

"Hi." Your voice is timid, uncertain.

He nods. "Hi." Normally this is where he'd shuffle over and give you a shy, awkward kiss. But he can't find the courage to do that now, not with his stomach full of flutter-bys and his mouth full of cotton. "Good day at work?"

You head into the kitchen. "Long day." And he can tell that your voice is strained. "Might just go to bed early."

No, that's exactly what he doesn't want. He can't stand another night of this horrible tension and he doesn't want another night of fighting his desire to touch you the way you need. So he summons all of his GAR training, all the bravery and strength he once had on the battlefield, and he forces himself to stand. He can almost feel the ghost of his bucket under his arm, as if he's about to give a briefing. But you're not a soldier. You're you. His stance softens a bit.

"Can we talk?"

Your eyes are wide with panic. Shit, he's kriffing this up already?

"Sure," you nod with the worst attempt at a smile he's ever seen. "What's up?"

He can picture it now, the way Rex would be looking at him with that one raised eyebrow. Spit it out, trooper, he imagines he'd say. Fives would probably be laughing his ass off.

"I'm sorry. About the other night." It's easier to get the words out if he doesn't look at you head on, but it makes his heart beat double time. "It's difficult for me sometimes." Even as he's saying it, he knows it's coming out wrong and he wants to smack himself upside the head for it. He feels like a shiny all over again. "Not because of you. I get lost inside my head. I'm a soldier, born and bred, and my hands are covered in more blood than I'd care to admit. It doesn't feel right to touch you."

And while he does breathe a sigh of relief at finally admitting it out loud, it doesn't make him feel much better. Because now you know. Maybe you even agree with him. Maybe this is it.

The floor creaks as you shift in place. "I won't break, you know. If you touch me?"

Tai huffs a rough, humorless laugh and the truth stumbles out of him before he can take it back. "Like you'd want an old geezer like me to touch you."

Your tongue clicks disapprovingly. "Do you seriously still think you're some creepy old guy?" And there's some of that spark that was missing when you first came in. "I'd kick you out if I wanted to. If I was uncomfortable. For fuck's sake, Tai, I want you! I thought that was obvious!"

It was, he was just too drenched in his own pity to really see it. He knows he's a fool. He remembers how perfectly you fit against him that night in the bar, he remembers every breath and moan and aching sigh you've given him since your first kiss. He knows you want him for some unimaginable reason he'll never be able to grasp. And he knows that he wants you too.

He's across the room before he realizes he's even taken a step. He crowds you into the counter, one hand on the lip by your hip and the other boldly seeking out the curve of your waist. It goes straight to his pride (and straight to his groin) when he sees the way your jaw goes slack and your eyes go unfocused, all flustered by his proximity. He likes it when you do that. He likes that you like it. He likes that just being near you makes his mouth water.

Your breath stutters and fans out across his face as he dips his head down to yours. "Forgive me?" he asks.

You nod as if in a daze, tongue darting across your lips. "Yeah."

He claims your mouth tongue first, searing his heat across its seam until you part for him and he tumbles in with something guttural in his throat. Stars above, you're always so warm. Even if he never went further than this with you, he'd still crave your kisses like a man starved. He'd still take your face in his hands and prompt you to open up for him, still dive into the welcoming warmth of your tongue and your breath until there was nothing left in his lungs.

"I was worried," you gasp when he pulls away for a moment. You're looking up at him with wide, lust-blown eyes, but there's something vulnerable underneath it all. "I thought I'd done something wrong, or maybe you didn't want me anymore, I-."

His forehead falls against yours. "No. I want you." He traces a hand up your arm and can't help smirking when you shiver. "The things I want to do to you, girl. You'd run me off planet."

Your entire body shakes. Your eyes flutter shut and he feels your thighs shift against his as they press together. Oh, you liked that, didn't you?

"Shall I show you?"

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

The path from the kitchen to your bed is a blur of clothes and bruising kisses. Tai's hands are everywhere, seeking out your skin and setting your whole body aflame in the process. Then his shirt is on the floor - yours is somewhere in the hallway with his pants, you think - and his hand is skimming the hem of your bottoms, and your head is spinning with desire. You need this man so desperately that it hurts.

You're still a little nervous, though. You shouldn't be. It's just Tai, after all. You trust him. You love him. It's still terrifying, still nerve wracking to expose yourself like this.

"Hey." Your hand presses into his chest to slow his descent to your collarbone and he immediately stops, eyes wide and flashing, waiting. You smile to reassure him. "I'm okay, we're okay, okay? I just. It's been a while."

His head bobs in understanding. "It's been a long time for me, too." Then his eyes dance away and you catch a glimmer of shame in the downward slant of his shoulders. "I'm not a young man anymore."

You know what he means. You feel similarly about your own body, it's not quite what you want it to be. "That's okay. I like you as you are."

Tai's nose rubs gingerly over yours. "Funny, was gonna say the same about you."

One of his large hands brushes over the upper swell of your stomach where his fingertips brush the bottom of your binder. You can feel yourself clench around nothing at this one simple touch. Already, he's breaking you down into a whimpering mess and he's not even properly touched any of your erogenous spots.

"This alright?"

Your response is the arching of your chest into his waiting hand. He grins and then your binder is rolled up. Your nipple is bare to him for a single second before he takes it between his fingers and rubs. Softly, reverently. And then he takes it into his mouth and you're done for.

One of your knees gives out as your brain short circuits, so you throw an arm around his neck to keep from collapsing. It just brings you further into his mouth and Maker, the sound of his tongue lapping at your skin, the smack of saliva - you're not sure if you'll last very long at this rate. He suckles, bites down just hard enough to make you jump, then laves his tongue over the bite before finally pulling back with a pop!

He doesn't say anything, but he's more smug than you've ever seen him. There's a flame burning in his eyes that threatens to burn you up and you've never been so willing to walk through fire. Whatever he wants, however he wants you. You'd sell your soul for him to touch you like this every waking moment of the rest of your life.

"Nngh, Tai." He's moved to your other breast, but kept a hand at the first one to continue tracing the shape of your areola. "Baby, just like that."

You've never called him that before. You can see the way his forehead wrinkles in surprise as he peeks up at you, your nipple still caught between his teeth. You're both frozen, assessing each other, hesitantly curious, until-

"Say that again," he rumbles.

A hand settles quick between your thighs and starts seeking out your clit, and for a long moment, your entire existence is blacked out by sheer pleasure. You shriek, head thrown back, and tremble into him.

"Baby...," you whine. You don't even recognize your voice. Surely that needy, pitched up mewl isn't you? "Please."

The pair of your drop unceremoniously onto the mattress with Tai's body caging you in. He's so big, he's everywhere, taking up every corner of your vision, his warmth spread out across the entire length of you. And then he's inside your clothes, pulling at them, yanking them off you while you try as best as your arousal muddled brain can to assist him. It's all a fog for a moment as you both struggle with your underwear, until suddenly they're gone and his bare skin is on yours and it's pure euphoria.

Your legs part for him on instinct and wrap around his waist. He fits in the empty space of you just right. His fingers are slipping down to the base of your opening to gather your slick and he teases your entrance for a moment, just enough to make you start to clench around the idea of him, before swiftly moving up and the moment he touches your clit is like entering another reality. Electricity jolts up your spine so you're arching into him, your mouth falls open, and the sound you attempt to make is so wrecked that it only comes out as a half-choked inhalation.

Tai shifts so his other arm is braced by your shoulder. "You sound incredible."

White hot fire spreads across your belly and the tension between your thighs starts to wind up. He thinks you sound good? He likes hearing you? You have to close your eyes to keep them from rolling back. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

You reach up for the back of his neck and press a sloppy kiss to his lips. "Wanna... wanna hear you too," you pant as he circles your clit. He's taking his time. "Bet you sound so sexy. When you're... you're fucking me."

Tai's head drops into your neck and his fingers falter, just for the briefest of seconds, before suddenly flicking twice as fast. Something akin to a yelp drags itself out of you as your orgasm suddenly starts barreling toward you like a freight transport.

"How d'you want me to fuck you?" and his voice is all gravel. The depths of his accent are somehow deeper now, rougher.

You wrap yourself around him as your body starts tightening, winding up more and more. You're so close, you can feel the explosion about to burst somewhere deep in your belly.

Your brain's so keyed up that you have no filter anymore, you say the first thing you can think of, and it's brutally honest. "However you want." The tension's about to snap. "However. Take what you want, Tai, I don't care, I don't care, please, 'msoclose-."

His finger curls across your clit just right, at just the right angle, and you shatter in his arms, mouth frozen in a silent scream as your orgasm rips its way through you. He just keeps moving, keeps caressing your clit through each wave like it's what he was born to do, keeps rumbling low in his chest as you keen and rock into him.

"How many of those are you gonna give me?" His mouth is right at your ear, his breath hot on your neck, and then he sucks on your earlobe and you can't even breathe.

It takes you a second to find the words, let alone remember how to speak them. "As many as you want."

He slips two of his fingers inside you with enough ease that it only takes him a few thrusts before he can add a third. Without the direct stimulation on your clit, this is manageable, it's not too much, which is truly a blessing in disguise because you want to feel the whole of his length inside you before you tap out. You want him to fuck himself into you until you can't tell where starts and you end. You can't do that if he wears you out too fast, so this casual pace, the thickness of his fingers stretching you open for him, it's just about right.

"Want all of you," you murmur against his open mouth. The bulk of his shoulder muscle moves under your hand as he finger fucks you. "Forever. Never want you to stop touching me."

The serious shake of his head is oddly endearing. "Could never leave you alone. Not after this."

You smile. "Besides," you sigh as he curls his fingers inside you and whispers against the perfect spot, "you have to show me all the- oh, fuck, right there. Kriffing fuck, Tai, right there." He's grinning and you want to kiss it right off him. "Hafta show me, uh, all the horrible things you want to do to me-!"

He's angled your leg further up his torso, opening you up a little more for him, and now his fingers are hitting you deeper than anything you can remember. Shit, you're gonna come again and he's not even inside you yet.

"That's it," he hums when your legs start shaking.

You're meeting every thrust with a roll of your hips, desperate, breathy, whining, absolutely falling apart. "Want you inside me, baby. Tai, Tai, fuck, I wanna... wanna..."

Lips on the curve of your jaw, sucking what you know is going to be a beautiful mark into your skin. "Shh. Give me one more. One more, my love. Then I'll fuck you right."

You give him two. He licks his fingers clean while you watch on, little more than a boneless lump of flesh after three climaxes. Your slick has started to seep onto your thighs. It's probably wetting the sheets by now and you honestly couldn't care less. You'd let this man ruin your bed in every way, sheets to frame, and you'd thank him for it. He could ruin your kriffing life and you'd still look at him like he was the galaxy itself.

Tai is gentle when he slips his length along the seam of you, gathering a bit of your arousal before he finally, blessedly pushes into you exactly where you've been aching for him for two blasted weeks. He doesn't hold back any of himself, doesn't hide the way he groans as you shudder around him, doesn't shy away from the obscene grunt that wrenches out of him when he bottoms out. He takes each of your legs in hand, grasping right behind your knees, and spreads them as far as you can stand.

"Take me so well," he hisses, his face all wrinkled with pleasure.

Your mouth lands on the tendon between his neck and his shoulder and in the haze of orgasms and fullness and the very scent of him, you can't decide if you want to kiss him or lick the sweat off him or bite him just to see what the fuck he'll do. You settle for all three. And it sends his hips bucking into yours with enough force to make your teeth rattle.

"Could live. Between your thighs." He's punctuating every thrust with something beautiful and profane. "Don't. Don't deserve you, sweet girl."

Even now though, blissed out as you are, you aren't going to let that slide. You fix him with the stubbornest little stink eye you can conjure up and grab hold of his shoulders as he fucks into you, strong and steady.

"Don't you dare. You have me, idiot. Willingly."

He raises an eyebrow in mock seriousness. "That so?"

Maker, he's so ornery. You find yourself wondering if he's always been this much of a shit. But with the way he's taking you right now, you can't recall what you had for lunch, let alone the past month and a half. But your irritation sneaks out anyway.

"Wouldn't let you fuck my cunt if I didn't want you."

His hand is in your hair faster than you can blink and suddenly your head is snapped back, your neck arched up as Tai growls, fucking growls into it. Your legs are almost pinned to your chest. The edge of his pubic pone is ghosting over your clit. Pleasure-pain is blossoming up the inside of your thighs, all the way to your cervix where his head is pressing into you, and he's muttering filth in your ear like there's no tomorrow.

"...to take you on every surface in this apartment. Bend you over the sofa. Eat you out on the table. Pin you to the wall and have my fucking way with you." And when you shudder against him so violently that your jaw hurts, he sucks another mark into your throat. "You like that, my love? Huh? You want a beat up old veteran that bad?"

You're grasping at the back of his head like it's your lifeline. You won't last much longer, you probably have less than a minute before your body completely breaks down. You're borderline delirious, but you manage to get your tongue working again.

"My old veteran." Right now in this otherworldly dimension of Tai and heat and skin on skin, you find it so stupidly funny that he thinks he's not worthy of you. He's such an idiot in this one respect. Doesn't he realize you're his now? "Favorite stupid old veteran."

"Watch it," he teases, but there's no bite. You can hear the laughter in it.

You laugh too. "What... 're you gonna do? Fuck me?"

One of his hands sneaks down between you and rolls your clit between his forefinger and his thumb, and you break with a caterwaul. There's a wet warmth seeping out underneath you and it should probably gross you out, but in the moment you think it's kinda nice. It's an intense, numbing, cozy sort of climax that renders you speechless by its end. And Tai's still buried in you, thrusting and thrusting until he finally whimpers and releases into you, and it feels right.

He's just right. You tell him so.

He smiles and kisses your cheek, then your lips, then the tip of your nose. "I love you, too."

This was so beautiful 🥹🥹💕💕

Fondness

Pairings: Clone Trooper Veteran Tai (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: Tai has PTSD flashbacks, mutual pining, awkward tension

Notes: I think this chapter will be a much better one just because I finally watched TCW. Shout out to Rex, who got way more mentions than I had planned but that's okay because I love him.

In all his years, after all the shit he's been through, he never imagined anything quite like this. He never imagined kindness quite like this. But then again, Tai had never met anyone like you before either. This realization doesn't keep his head from spinning, though, because now he's in your space, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the shithole you and a hundred other people call home. White walls stained beige with age, a floor that creaks every time you shift or step, windows that allow a disheartening view of the neighboring building and little else. It's crummy and probably falling apart, but it's better than anything he's had in at least seven years. He's not complaining.

"Sorry for the mess," you say a little shyly as you start bustling about the place, picking up trash and discarded clothes and wholly avoiding his eyes. "I don't really have people over."

Better than the dumpster I've been sleeping under, he wants to say. But that would be rude. And he knows you're trying to be polite, trying to put your best foot forward, and he appreciates it. And you. Definitely you.

"I don't have an extra room or a bed or anything, but I have a couch. And lots of blankets and pillows." You're going through a cupboard in the hall now. "I can turn the air on. Or the heat. I dunno what you prefer, but we can make it work." And something grabs Tai by the heart and refuses to let go because there's that 'we' again. The one that makes his chest feel tight. "Whatever you need to be comfortable."

He blinks and you're standing in front of him, eyes big and wide and shining in the sliver of light coming over his shoulder from the window. The two of you are caught for a moment in the gentle electricity humming between you. It's cautious and unsure, a little reserved and a little exciting, like you shouldn't be opening up your home to him and he shouldn't have accepted, like he shouldn't even be here. It registers vaguely in the back of the head that he's probably right. You don't know him, not really, and he doesn't really know you, no matter how much he pretends he does. And he's old enough now to be finding gray in his beard and at his temples. So what the hell is he doing here, what is he doing with you, the sweetest thing he's ever encountered? He feels like a creep.

But all of that passes when you smile. It wipes his mind clean. You turn to drop the sheets on the arm of the sofa, start unfolding them and throwing them over the cushions.

"I can-"

"I got it," you counter before he can even stop you. "I don't mind. You can make yourself at home, Tai. Get a drink, take a shower, whatever you want."

It takes him more breaths than he'd care to admit for his brain to catch up to his ears and his heart. He's so kriffing nervous here, taking up precious space in your home, tracking the grime of the city into your floor, and he knows that this is a gift that can be taken back. He's earned this privilege and he can lose it in a blink. So he decides to let you do this for him, just this once, if only to give himself some space and time to clear his head.

The bathroom is fucking tiny. The walls are crowding in on him before he even closes the door. The mirror is dirty with water spatters and steam streaks, the counter a little dusty in the corners, but you're everywhere in here - from the vase and fake flowers to the spread of cutely labeled products and the carpeted mat under his feet. Which reminds him to take his shoes off, which then prompts him to shuck off his armor and let his body breathe.

The man staring back at him in the mirror is both familiar and a stranger. He remembers that jawline looking sharper at one point, his skin smoother and firmer, but he also remembers the day he got the scar on his chin. He remembers the last day he saw Rex, remembers a string of images that make him want to pluck his eyes out just to quiet the way padawan blood screamed at him from the ground, remembers the day the Empire replaced him with a faceless, unfeeling Stormtrooper, remembers the first time he held out his helmet and begged for scraps. And before he even realizes it, he's stepping into the shower and basking in the shivering cold of the water. Maybe it'll wash away the black marks on his soul he's earned over the years. He can hope, at least.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

Tai feels more levelheaded when he gets out of the shower. He doesn't look at the mirror. He does, however, notice a slip of paper half stuck to the floor with the residual steam and his heart does a weird little flip when he reads it. There is indeed a stack of clothes and a crate for his armor just outside the door. He can tell with just a look that the sweatpants won't fit him, but the shirt, a striped and faded mess of cotton wearing thin at the bottom seam, fits well enough and he makes a point of not noticing how it smells like you.

The sofa is made up like a bed in a palace, or as close as you can manage. The sheets are threadbare but soft, lightly scented with citrus, and he swears there's half a dozen pillows piled up in the corner. You've left out a glass of water and lit a candle, too.

He doesn't let himself cry until he double checks that you are in your room with your door closed. How has he deserved this? He's fallen so far. He was once a proud soldier of the Republic. Now the Republic is dead and so are most of his brothers. He doesn't even know if there are any left. What would they say if they could see him now, living on the streets of an empty, soulless planet, huddled in some civilian's apartment like a rat? It's embarrassing, shameful. Rex would have his head for this, surely- except... Except he knows that's not quite true. He knows that Rex, soldier though he was, would never have judged him. Rex would have tried to help him.

He looks down the hallway where a sliver of light shines out from beneath your door and he almost dares to smile. Rex would have liked you, he thinks.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

One night turns into two. You're not used to having anyone in your space quite like this, certainly not a man, so it's awkward. You keep having to remind yourself not to leave your more feminine products out in the open where it might startle him. And even though you have no reason to believe Tai would ever be in your room, you make sure to hide your personal effects in there too. Just in case. Best not to give him the wrong idea. But it's okay, it works, the two of you.

Two nights turn into a week. Tai's efforts to leave the following morning are growing weaker every day and your requests for him to stay become more and more persuasive. You know it would be best for him to go, more logical, safer even. But you feel safer having him around.

And maybe, just maybe some selfish part of you wishes he would never have to leave. You choose not to delve into the reason why.

A week becomes a month and you come home from work one evening to find Tai passed out on the sofa, snoring away as usual. It sucks that your schedules are so opposite with him heading off to work right after you get home, but sometimes it's not so bad. Sometimes you come home early and you get to see him like this. The stress and age and trauma doesn't weigh so heavily on his face when he sleeps.

You're grabbing a drink when you notice the pile of credits dropped onto the kitchen counter. It's not very much, but it's also not yours. Your eyes flicker in Tai's direction. Is this his monthly pay? Being a janitor in a dankhole like this place ought to pay more. He also needs a better place to put his money than on the counter, he'll end up losing some that way. You briefly wonder if he needs a wallet and if maybe you should get him one before you snap yourself out of it.

He's a grown man, you tell yourself, he can get his own damn wallet. You're not his mother. And if you'd been caught saying that out loud you might have sounded furious, but the only anger you can feel is directed solely at yourself. Because you're letting yourself fall too deep and too fast for a man who is still a stranger in many ways.

You shake your head and take your things with you into your room, careful to close the door as quietly as you can manage. You don't want to wake him, but you also don't want to face him. Not now. Not with the too many thoughts buzzing around in your brain. Not when you're realizing just how much you think you might love him.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

" 's for you, y'know," he gruffs the following afternoon.

You look up from the stove, over your shoulder, and frown. "Huh?"

He nods his head at the pile of credits that still haven't moved. "For rent."

The galaxy spins around you for a moment. He took money out of his probably terribly paying job to help you with rent? Seriously?

You stumble over your own mouth while your brain plays catch up. "Tai... You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs and doesn't look at you. "Figured I used enough hot water to warrant a bill."

His smile is faint, but you can still see the outline of it. You wish he'd smile more. He looks so pretty when he smiles. And then you wonder what he thinks of your smile, if he even thinks of it at all. Does Tai think of you the way you think of him?

"Saw an apartment opening up downtown." His voice slices through your thoughts violently enough to completely shatter them. Your entire body feels like it's been dunked in ice water. "Thought I might have a look."

He wants to leave? Ice cold panic grips you by the base of your spine as you start cataloging through the last few days, trying to find any moment, any second glance that he could have interpreted wrongly. Because why else would he want to leave when you've tried so hard to make your home welcoming to him?

"Don't want to overstay my welcome."

And your anxiety calms a hair. Okay, so maybe you were jumping to conclusions for a second there.

You rest your hip against the cupboard. "You could never. You haven't." You glance back at your food as if it'll protect you from your own heart. "You can... You can stay here as long as you want to, Tai. Or as short as you want. Whatever you want. But you'll never wear out your welcome."

Well, that's about as close to a confession as you can safely get. Not that you were trying to confess anything, not that you have anything to confess. Even though you know that's a kriffing lie.

The kitchen goes stale with your shared silence. The wheels in Tai's head are turning so fiercely that you can hear them working. You're sure he can hear your heartbeat by now. Thank the Maker he can't hear your thoughts. And then-

"There's a bar by the market. I think it's called Spice. Have you ever been?"

You blink through your confusion. "I don't think so."

You blink again and suddenly Tai is standing, coming around to your side of the kitchen until he's all you can see. There's that blaster shot right through your chest again because he's closer now than he's been the past month. He smells faintly like your shampoo and his own natural musk and dank farrik, that's just not fair.

"Come with me tonight? Do you have work?"

"No. Yes. I mean-." You're so breathless, you can't get your words out in the right order. You laugh and have to turn your head to avoid the intensity of his gaze in order to focus. "I mean, no, I don't have work, yes, I'd love to go with you."

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

It's strange to be handing over credits in exchange for liquor. The GAR never paid their troopers and neither did the Empire, so the only alcohol he ever got his hands on was the free crap 79's handed out. Not that this place offers anything better, but this time he can actually pay for it with credits he's earned himself. And he can buy some for you, too.

The speakers are playing some upbeat, young person tune he's never heard before and the lights are flashing 50 different shades of neon across your face. It hurts his eyes a little and it's another reminder that he's not the young clone he once was and this isn't 79's. He's not on Coruscant anymore, Fives isn't chatting up some attractive civvy just around the corner, Jesse and Tup aren't hurling their guts out in the bathroom, Rex isn't nursing a drink in a corner booth. It's just him. In a dive bar on Daiyu. He's a janitor. He's homeless. And you're here with him, brightening up the space around you with just a smile and that tipsy twinkle in your eyes. It hurts, but it's manageable. Entirely because of you.

You down your third drink of the night with a giggle and a burp, turning on your bar stool so you're facing him properly with your knees splayed. They frame his legs just right. Tai pretends this one simple movement doesn't light a raging fire in the pit of his stomach. He tells himself it's the alcohol sending heat through his veins. Definitely not because you're fluttering your eyelashes at him. Because he's not the young man he used to be. He's a dirty old man. He's lucky just to be allowed to bask in your presence. He's lucky you haven't figured out he has it bad for you and that you haven't kicked him out as a result. You're just drunk, he tells himself. He's drunk too. That's all it is.

That's all it is until it's suddenly so much more. "Come on!" you exclaim with a smile that could hang the stars in the sky. You're tugging him out onto the dance floor, you're holding his hands, you're kriffing touching him like it's the most normal thing you could be doing. And Maker, he'd go anywhere you asked, do anything you wanted if you looked at him like that. "Dance with me!" you shout over the music, shuffling yourself even closer to make sure he can hear you.

He's shaking his head like an idiot, arms withdrawn and poised mid-air. "No, I can't-"

"Dance with me, Tai." You look up at him through your lashes and smile a smile he doesn't think he's ever seen on you. "I want to dance with you."

He swallows. Hard. "You're drunk."

"So?"

"So." Quick, trooper, think of something! "You wouldn't be asking me if you were sober."

"That's just 'cause I'm shy," you laugh and your hand runs up his arm to his shoulder. A shudder runs through him at your touch. "I wouldn't ask you if I was sober, but I'd still want to. So dance with me."

Your hand presses against his cheek right where his scruff is growing in and his eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments. He's not at 79's, he's not young anymore, but for this one moment he can pretend that doesn't matter. He can pretend that this night is everything he wants it to be. So he takes you in his arms like he's the confident young trooper he was so many years ago and he dances with you to music he's never heard before. And he lets himself love you, even if just for the night.