(
rivulet027 May. 11th, 2021 12:03 am)
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Title: To Be Where You Are in the Universe
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Hera/Kanan
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kanan isn't sure he remembers how to have a friendship with expectations and trust, much less a relationship.
A/N: Written for pretchatta for the
maythe4thbewithyou exchange. Title from the poem 'Why I Wake Early' by Mary Oliver. Kanan's alcoholism is brought up.
To Be Where You Are in the Universe:
Kanan is self-aware enough to realize that he has more than a passing interest in Hera. Which is odd for him. He’s used to a flirtation or a tumble, maybe, at most, a brief affair, but any of those things with Hera would mean that he’s not planning to stay on the Ghost and he agreed to become a part of her crew. He wants to be a part of her crew. So, he needs to not be interested in Hera as anything more than a friend and crewmate. Which just leads to another problem, he’s not sure he knows how to be friends with anyone, not anymore, not long-term anyway.
At least there’s no itch to keep moving, no sense that he needs to keep going. The Ghost is where he needs to be, and yet Kanan isn’t sure he knows how to be still. He’s not sure he can feel safe if he stays here. He’s not sure he can trust someone enough for long-term friendship. So where does that leave him and Hera?
The only person to ask is Hera. Kanan doesn’t think asking Chopper will get him more than insults and grumbling in binary. So, the next time Chopper leaves the two of them alone in the cockpit Kanan tilts his head to look at her and asks, “What do you expect out of a friendship?”
Hera pauses, her fingers stilling from where she’s running a diagnostic. She glances at him, sharp eyes accessing. He tries to give her a disarming grin.
“Are you drunk?” she asks.
“What? No.”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s going to be more difficult to steal these Imperial supplies if you’re drunk.”
“You haven’t even told me what we’re stealing yet?” Kanan points out, hoping to change the subject. He’s not sure how they got from an overture of friendship to an accusation of drunkenness.
“Food mostly,” Hera informs him. “Some medical supplies. No alcohol and I hope you have enough because we don’t have time for you to shore up your supply. I know what happens when a Twi’lek, who drinks like you do, is forced to go without, but I don’t know what happens to a human.”
Kanan blinks at her slowly, not entirely sure what to do with the concern on her face.
The door slides open and Chopper rolls in, clearly eavesdropping as he adds. “It can kill a human. Are we letting Kanan die?”
“Wait,” Kanan stalls. “I’m not dying and I’m not drunk. Were you just waiting to bring this up, when we’re on a time-table to steal supplies?”
Hera arches one perfect eyebrow and Kanan finds he can’t look away from her face.
“Chopper?” Hera asks, while still maintaining eye contact with him. “Do we have enough supplies to detox a human?”
Grumbling Chopper leaves to confer with Hera’s ancient meddroid. The meddroid may be the only one that’ll survive this universe, she insists on being shut off when she’s not in use.
Kanan stares. Hera’s gaze never leaves his face as she leans in. “You don’t bring up my attraction to you and I won’t bring up your drinking, deal?”
Her attraction to him? Her attraction to him?
“That wasn’t what I was asking you about,” Kanan insists. “Besides I don’t know how to be in love, I barely understand how a friendship works if I’m not going to be leaving in a few months, which is why I asked. And I’m not a drunk! I only really drink when I have trouble sleeping.”
He’s going to ignore that it’s more so he doesn’t have screaming nightmares that will have him shaking the walls and have objects flying around the room. He doesn’t need to have a nightmare that will expose what he is to Hera and possibly bring an Inquisitor down on his head.
Hera’s eyes narrow as she studies him. Then she points out, “Attraction isn’t love.”
“I know,” Kanan agrees. Then he tries apologizing with a sheepish grin and then reminds her that they are technically on a time table.
“We’re not leaving until I finish this diagnostic,” she grumbles as she turns back to the controls.
Kanan crosses his arms and slouches in his seat as he tries not to think about Hera’s words. He’s a friend and a crewmate and he doesn’t intend on going anywhere. That’s not love. What does he know about love anyway? The only two examples he can think of is the besotted looks on Commander Bly’s face as he and Master Secura would confer with one another or how Master Billaba and Grey would sometimes look at one another. Kanan knows how Master Billaba and Grey ended. He suspects Bly and Secura ended the same way.
What examples of friendship does he have? There are friends who died in the temple, that he was too far away to help. There is Stance dying on the battlefield in front of him. There is Master Billaba drawing all the blaster fire towards her so he had a chance to run away. Kanan sighs and runs a hand down his face. He hates thinking about this. He can’t even think about Grey without fear clawing its way down his spine.
With a sigh Kanan lets his arms drop and turns to look at Hera. He opens his mouth, then shuts it when the diagnostic beeps that it’s done. Then he helps Chopper with a quick repair and they run another diagnostic. Hera is satisfied with the results and they run their mission to steal the supplies. It goes surprisingly smoothly and they’re in hyperspace shortly after they leave. Then they’re cataloging the supplies so Hera can figure out how best to disrupt them. It’s all food and medical supplies. Kanan is relatively sure they’ll be donating all of it and then their next few jobs will be passenger ferrying jobs so they can earn the money they need to keep the Ghost running and stay in supplies. He doesn’t want to continue their misunderstanding when they can’t discuss it because the ship is crawling with people.
Kanan closes the lid of the cargo crate he’s been cataloging and stops to look at Hera. She lowers her datapad to meet his gaze. He wets his lips and her eyes follow the movement of his tongue. For one brief moment he wants to flirt and then work them into a conversation that isn’t serious. He runs a hand over his mouth, then admits, “I wasn’t asking earlier to mock you or start an argument. I really don’t remember how to have a friend.”
“You had lots of friends on Gorse,” she says, voice soft with a hint of confusion.
Kanan shakes his head. “Those were acquaintances. I was always going to move on. They knew it and I knew it.”
Hera sets her datapad down and steps close. Her hand comes up to touch his chest, right over his heart. Kanan lets himself lay his hand over top of hers, pressing his closer. Their eyes meet.
“You mean that? You want to stay?” she asks.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Kanan answers.
She goes up on her toes so she can press a kiss against his lips. He shifts to he can keep one hand over the one she’s got over his heart and so his other can cup her jaw as he deepens the kiss. This, at least, he knows how to do.
She pulls away, takes a step back, but keeps her hand on his chest. “I’m not going to romance a drunk and I think you know I won’t be distracted from my mission, not even for romance. So, I guess you’re right and we should talk about expectations.”
“Yes, we should,” Kanan agrees.
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Hera/Kanan
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kanan isn't sure he remembers how to have a friendship with expectations and trust, much less a relationship.
A/N: Written for pretchatta for the
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To Be Where You Are in the Universe:
Kanan is self-aware enough to realize that he has more than a passing interest in Hera. Which is odd for him. He’s used to a flirtation or a tumble, maybe, at most, a brief affair, but any of those things with Hera would mean that he’s not planning to stay on the Ghost and he agreed to become a part of her crew. He wants to be a part of her crew. So, he needs to not be interested in Hera as anything more than a friend and crewmate. Which just leads to another problem, he’s not sure he knows how to be friends with anyone, not anymore, not long-term anyway.
At least there’s no itch to keep moving, no sense that he needs to keep going. The Ghost is where he needs to be, and yet Kanan isn’t sure he knows how to be still. He’s not sure he can feel safe if he stays here. He’s not sure he can trust someone enough for long-term friendship. So where does that leave him and Hera?
The only person to ask is Hera. Kanan doesn’t think asking Chopper will get him more than insults and grumbling in binary. So, the next time Chopper leaves the two of them alone in the cockpit Kanan tilts his head to look at her and asks, “What do you expect out of a friendship?”
Hera pauses, her fingers stilling from where she’s running a diagnostic. She glances at him, sharp eyes accessing. He tries to give her a disarming grin.
“Are you drunk?” she asks.
“What? No.”
Her eyes narrow. “It’s going to be more difficult to steal these Imperial supplies if you’re drunk.”
“You haven’t even told me what we’re stealing yet?” Kanan points out, hoping to change the subject. He’s not sure how they got from an overture of friendship to an accusation of drunkenness.
“Food mostly,” Hera informs him. “Some medical supplies. No alcohol and I hope you have enough because we don’t have time for you to shore up your supply. I know what happens when a Twi’lek, who drinks like you do, is forced to go without, but I don’t know what happens to a human.”
Kanan blinks at her slowly, not entirely sure what to do with the concern on her face.
The door slides open and Chopper rolls in, clearly eavesdropping as he adds. “It can kill a human. Are we letting Kanan die?”
“Wait,” Kanan stalls. “I’m not dying and I’m not drunk. Were you just waiting to bring this up, when we’re on a time-table to steal supplies?”
Hera arches one perfect eyebrow and Kanan finds he can’t look away from her face.
“Chopper?” Hera asks, while still maintaining eye contact with him. “Do we have enough supplies to detox a human?”
Grumbling Chopper leaves to confer with Hera’s ancient meddroid. The meddroid may be the only one that’ll survive this universe, she insists on being shut off when she’s not in use.
Kanan stares. Hera’s gaze never leaves his face as she leans in. “You don’t bring up my attraction to you and I won’t bring up your drinking, deal?”
Her attraction to him? Her attraction to him?
“That wasn’t what I was asking you about,” Kanan insists. “Besides I don’t know how to be in love, I barely understand how a friendship works if I’m not going to be leaving in a few months, which is why I asked. And I’m not a drunk! I only really drink when I have trouble sleeping.”
He’s going to ignore that it’s more so he doesn’t have screaming nightmares that will have him shaking the walls and have objects flying around the room. He doesn’t need to have a nightmare that will expose what he is to Hera and possibly bring an Inquisitor down on his head.
Hera’s eyes narrow as she studies him. Then she points out, “Attraction isn’t love.”
“I know,” Kanan agrees. Then he tries apologizing with a sheepish grin and then reminds her that they are technically on a time table.
“We’re not leaving until I finish this diagnostic,” she grumbles as she turns back to the controls.
Kanan crosses his arms and slouches in his seat as he tries not to think about Hera’s words. He’s a friend and a crewmate and he doesn’t intend on going anywhere. That’s not love. What does he know about love anyway? The only two examples he can think of is the besotted looks on Commander Bly’s face as he and Master Secura would confer with one another or how Master Billaba and Grey would sometimes look at one another. Kanan knows how Master Billaba and Grey ended. He suspects Bly and Secura ended the same way.
What examples of friendship does he have? There are friends who died in the temple, that he was too far away to help. There is Stance dying on the battlefield in front of him. There is Master Billaba drawing all the blaster fire towards her so he had a chance to run away. Kanan sighs and runs a hand down his face. He hates thinking about this. He can’t even think about Grey without fear clawing its way down his spine.
With a sigh Kanan lets his arms drop and turns to look at Hera. He opens his mouth, then shuts it when the diagnostic beeps that it’s done. Then he helps Chopper with a quick repair and they run another diagnostic. Hera is satisfied with the results and they run their mission to steal the supplies. It goes surprisingly smoothly and they’re in hyperspace shortly after they leave. Then they’re cataloging the supplies so Hera can figure out how best to disrupt them. It’s all food and medical supplies. Kanan is relatively sure they’ll be donating all of it and then their next few jobs will be passenger ferrying jobs so they can earn the money they need to keep the Ghost running and stay in supplies. He doesn’t want to continue their misunderstanding when they can’t discuss it because the ship is crawling with people.
Kanan closes the lid of the cargo crate he’s been cataloging and stops to look at Hera. She lowers her datapad to meet his gaze. He wets his lips and her eyes follow the movement of his tongue. For one brief moment he wants to flirt and then work them into a conversation that isn’t serious. He runs a hand over his mouth, then admits, “I wasn’t asking earlier to mock you or start an argument. I really don’t remember how to have a friend.”
“You had lots of friends on Gorse,” she says, voice soft with a hint of confusion.
Kanan shakes his head. “Those were acquaintances. I was always going to move on. They knew it and I knew it.”
Hera sets her datapad down and steps close. Her hand comes up to touch his chest, right over his heart. Kanan lets himself lay his hand over top of hers, pressing his closer. Their eyes meet.
“You mean that? You want to stay?” she asks.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Kanan answers.
She goes up on her toes so she can press a kiss against his lips. He shifts to he can keep one hand over the one she’s got over his heart and so his other can cup her jaw as he deepens the kiss. This, at least, he knows how to do.
She pulls away, takes a step back, but keeps her hand on his chest. “I’m not going to romance a drunk and I think you know I won’t be distracted from my mission, not even for romance. So, I guess you’re right and we should talk about expectations.”
“Yes, we should,” Kanan agrees.