Star Wars: On the Job

Chapter 8: Unexpected Shift

How had she ended up like this? At what point had she gone from staring into hyperspace to straddling Kanan in the co-pilot's chair?

Hera's mind raced back through the past few seconds. When she'd gotten up to retrieve her gloves from the galley, she'd tripped over the survival lamp, kicking it across the floor. She'd tried to grab the headrest of her chair to steady herself, only to have it swivel out of her hand and send her reeling sideways. At the same time, her boot had gotten caught on a seam in the deck, throwing her completely off-balance into the co-pilot's chair. The result was her left knee caught between Kanan's right armrest and thigh while her other leg braced her akimbo.

Hera gripped Kanan's shoulders while his hands steadied her at the waist. His face was so close it was all she could see. Eyebrows high enough to reach the ceiling, his nose cut a sharp profile against the black shadows. His mouth popped open to say something, but no words came out and Hera's eyes lingered on the curve of his lips. There was a rustling as her grip tightened on his shirt.

It'd been weeks since she'd finally admitted to herself that she was attracted to Kanan Jarrus, but she'd refused to take it personally. Aside from his outward appearance and athleticism (which was of a tantalizingly high quality), there was a peculiar mix of rough-edged charm and deep-seated wisdom in him that kept her on her toes. Once he'd gotten over the smooth-talking and swaggering, Kanan had shown himself to be reliable, intelligent, resourceful, charming and genuinely brave time and again. But what had surprised her most was the tender way he watched out for other people, even as he made an extra effort to hide his good deeds. She'd often wondered what he thought he had to gain from the world only seeing him as a reckless roustabout. What did he stand to lose if people knew how compassionate and upright he could really be?

There was a soft scrape as Kanan's pony-tail brushed against the top of the chair. Whether she'd started moving towards him or he towards her, she didn't know. He gently squeezed her waist as his nose brushed her cheek. Then he stopped, as if giving her one last chance to back away. When she didn't take it, they closed the distance and Hera's eyes drifted shut.

Hera Syndulla's nineteen years of life had been both long and short. They had been long in war, in dust, in the thunder of ordnance across the desert. But they had been short in romance, in stolen glances, in the kind of desire that burned in her now. A few boyfriends on Ryloth– mostly fumbling hands and too-hard kisses– were the extent of her experience. But even with that limited knowledge she could tell that Kanan was an excellent kisser. The pressure on her lips was light as he caressed her slowly, delicately. Unhurriedly, he opened her mouth and hot breath passed between them, familiar and sweet. It was as if they'd kissed a hundred times before, and she wondered if in his mind they hadn't.

Hera opened her fists and smoothed her palms over his shoulders. The rough callouses on her hands caught on the fabric of his shirt. Before she knew it, her fingers were in his hair again. She rolled the thick, dark strands between her fingertips, still damp from the shower. After a moment, the thin band he used to tie it back hit the floor with a quiet thunk.

As they sunk into one another, the galaxy disappeared. Kanan's hands found their way up and down her back as Hera pulled her other leg onto the chair. With her weight settled onto his lap, Kanan skillfully broke off the kiss, pressing his lips into her jaw and neck. Hera bit her bottom lip.

"How's that?" he whispered against her skin.

His rough-edged voice rumbled against her. She took a ragged breath and answered, "Better."

"Told you," he said and she could hear the smirk.

In response, Hera pulled him back up. Their lips met and Kanan let out a soft chuckle against her mouth.

She kissed him again, more fervently than before, and there was a palpable shift in the tenor of their kisses. Kanan slipped his tongue into her mouth and a rush of energy rippled to the tips of her lekku. His hands tightened on her back and settled on the tops of her hips. She felt small under them, like a Rylothian aola flower: lithe, but unbreakable.

Something wordless awoke in Hera's mind then. It saw through her hands, through her mouth, through every cell in her body. It had no concept of the future. Cared nothing for consequences or the machinations of other beings far away. It knew only desire, consuming and insatiable. And right now it desired Kanan.

Fingers netted in his hair, Hera pulled him closer. When she took his lower lip between her teeth, he made a deep sound in his throat that sent shivers through her body. Kanan tightened his hands on her hips, pulling her into him. The mental image of the flesh pressing against her leg filled Hera's mind. One-syllable words floated into her newly awakened consciousness. Thick. Push. Want. What would that flesh feel like between her palms? Pressed to her lips? Sliding into her mouth? What kind of noise would Kanan make then?

With a surge of instinct, Hera lifted onto her knees. Kanan's hands slipped down to her rear, then lower... lower... Burning hot, Hera purred into his mouth and nodded.

But just has his fingers were converging, Kanan stopped short and reversed his hands slowly up her back.

"Hera," he said, taking her face between his palms. "Hera, hold up."

"Yes?" Her hips gave a little roll and Kanan couldn't suppress a groan. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, searching his lips and face for the next place to kiss.

"This isn't... this is too fast," he stuttered and when she didn't reply, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Hey," he called softly holding her at bay. "Hey."

Hera's green eyes blinked twice as focus sluggishly returned to her mind. Her breathing calmed pulse by pulse and her hands eased their grip. Her mind was crowded with ideas and images. The foremost of which was of Kanan pinning her against the control console with their naked bodies chest to chest. She wanted that– wanted him– but doubted the wisdom of having sex on top of a dozen buttons that could send them hurtling to a cold death in the depths of space. Still, it was an alluring image and slow to dissipate from her mind.

Kanan gently pushed her back and Hera settled onto his legs, cold air rushing between their bodies. His eyes were searching, pensive and Hera could only meet them for a second before looking away. The noise of hyperspace had returned, and she watched the flickering patterns across the durasteel for a long time. Finally, she pushed a deep breath out of her lungs. Without saying a word, she unfolded herself from Kanan's lap. Her knees were tight from straddling him and she stumbled towards the door, still half folded over.

Kanan's voice followed her through the space-cold air. "Are you..." he trailed off as if he couldn't decide what to ask. Was she okay? Was she angry? Was she coming back?

Hera decided it was likely the first one and half turned to wave away his help, but her left knee buckled. She lost her balance and Kanan had her by the elbows before she was off her feet.

"Easy there," he said and took her weight as she straightened her knees the rest of the way.

Hera gave a humorless cough. "Thanks," she mumbled and hesitated halfway up from straightening her back. Kanan followed her eyes to where a huge bulge pushed against the front of his pants. She quickly averted her face, still gripping his forearms for support.

"I just need to... use the fresher," she said through tight lips. She could feel Kanan flinch at the sound of her voice, not disappointment, but regret.

"Do you... want some help?" he asked uncertainly.

Hera tensed and shot him a questioning look.

"To the fresher, I mean," he clarified.

Shaking her head she answered. "No, I got it."

Hera took a halting step forward and activated the door. Keeping one hand on the wall, she traversed the long hallway and disappeared into the shadows that filled the back of the Ghost.