You could feel it in every move he made. It felt like a heater had been turned up to full or you were laid on the Tatooine desert dressed in full winter gear; when he entered the room a slither of sweat would worm its way down your neck and into the...
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"You–"
You nod.
"Yes"
He shakes his head in disbelief.
"With them?"
You nod again. "Yup"
"Together?"
Laylans' mouth seems stuck, lips puckered and eyes blown wide in a comic way that reminds you of a frog.
"You're really understanding the concept of a threesome aren't you sunshine?" you reply, learning back into your desk chair.
Telling Laylan was a flaw in your cognition, he was, after all, a well-known gossip. This was your attempt at 'bonding'. And damn, did Laylan need it. He had sent you five emails asking you to his pancake luncheon, one for a coupon to Ronto Roasters and six regarding spam Twi'lek porn bots – if you didn't give him attention now he might die.
"Wow, ma'am." He nods, confirming the information to himself rather than you.
"That's...great?" he hedges.
Ah, the awkwardness of blossoming friendship.
Your eyes flicker to your work and smile. "We need to work on your advice"
"I'll pencil that in"
You shouldn't be shocked when he actually starts writing it down.
He brushes his mop of hair from his face to pin it back with the pencil. "Are you like, dating now?"
"No" you say.
Or are you?
"Yes" you change your mind and Laylan blinks slowly.
A sigh seeps out of your chest.
"I can't put it into words. We have sex and train together, but it's not like we can go to a restaurant or anything"
The tone was bitter, but it was the truth. You were not wined and dined or peppered with public kisses. Even mistresses were paraded more than you. Plus, the last time you ate in a restaurant together a mad woman tried to kill you, you stole a mans ship and gained a robot baby.
Laylan gives you bittersweet smile, the dimple on his left cheek giving you a wink. "It's not like you have to go to a restaurant for it to be a date"
Dates require planning; A casual invite to a movie, a letter of interest, a picnic on the sand. All you got was a gruff "come" and a beckoned hand.
JD-1 beeps something vulgar and insulting, the words 'Kylo' and 'No balls' coming through easily.
"Oh don't you start" you scoff, tempted to pull out some of JD-1's loose wires.
JD-1 still holds some resentment for being called 'scrap'.
"You called me here?" you direct at Laylan. It was your only day off from this hell hold, you had wanted to enjoy it. The papers on your desk could wait.
