It is not consolation; it is light. [Voice Test]

[the_force_is_with_me]

"You're going to freeze over there."

Baze tossed a pebble at Chirrut's back. He liked to sit in the window while he meditated, and Baze believed it was solely to aggravate his concern. Chirrut had never fallen out of a window; but he could be shot out of one, if a passing stormtrooper or other unfriendly felt so inclined. They'd found a place, safe and quiet but not far from the center of the city; not far from the destroyed, occupied temple. Baze had made as many repairs as he could to make the room tolerable. Sometimes it was still too cold, but they managed.

"Come eat."

Since the occupation and closing of the temple, meals were not entirely as regular as they used to be. Baze didn't mind austerity; he did mind starving. Living in an occupied city made life harder than it had ever been before, no matter what weather or natural disaster they might have faced. But this different, oppressive. People were suffering because of the Empire's very presence.

"Chirrut.

Comments

[one_with_the_force]

the hold on him was secure and settling. With their bowls aside, Chirrut checked that he was not too near the cooking unit, and then swung his leg over Baze's, settling comfortably on top of him.

"You wouldn't know what to do if I didn't."

[the_force_is_with_me]

"No," he agreed quietly. "I wouldn't." He lifted both hands to hold Chirrut's face, just touching him for a moment before he pulled him into another kiss.

"You've always been loud to me," he murmured. "Even when you're silent." It started when they were young. Baze knew where Chirrut was, and later, knew how he was feeling; Chirrut could always find him, knew when Baze needed him.

[one_with_the_force]

To be heard, to be known, was important to Chirrut. His losses were innumerable; so were Baze's. And this, what transpired between them, reminded Chirrut that, perhaps, the Jedi had been right to deny him into the ranks of the younglings. He would rather this man with him, to the end of their days. Even if it meant the loss of his eyes, and this strange, tenuous connection with the Force. He would rather Baze at his side, even when they were separated.

"Come home to me," he whispered, and kissed Baze again. "You can go, just come home to me."

[the_force_is_with_me]

"Always. I'll always come back to you." Baze hated the looming departure, now that it had been decided he would go. They had time, a few days, a week, but it wouldn't be enough.

He moved, careful not to unseat Chirrut, into the pile of cushions and blankets they'd managed to amass and call a bed. He leaned back into it, keeping Chirrut against him.

[one_with_the_force]

Chirrut rather enjoyed it when Baze moved him, as if he weighed nothing at all. He knew it was from carrying around his armor and weapon; in comparison, Chirrut probably did way next to nothing. When they settled, Chirrut leaned into Baze, breathing in the smell of him.

[the_force_is_with_me]

Baze just held him for a moment, feeling the life in him. The memories of the next several days would keep him for the following thirty. His hands moved slowly, working lose parts of what Chirrut wore, removing layers, unfastening. Chirrut still looked like a Guardian; Baze still had his temple gear but had stopped wearing it almost immediately.

[one_with_the_force]

Slowly, despite the chill, clothing fell away. They'd laid together many times, in various states of undress, and Chirrut was in no rush to hurry something that was more physical than spiritual. Tonight, though, these following days, and every day in the aftermath of the arrival of the Empire, Chirrut wanted that physical more and more.

He tugged, more urgently than Baze was, seeking warmth and skin closer to his. His mouth found Baze's cheek, his jaw, the rasp of his beard on the way to his mouth.

[the_force_is_with_me]

Baze tried to help. The layers he wore now were different - and if anyone asked him, easier - than the temple gear of a guardian. Chirrut had needed to learn how to undress him all over again.

Still, Chirrut's insistence made him laugh, quiet and warm. "Hold on, hold on," he urged, sitting up a bit more so he could push his sleeves off. Chirrut's mouth moving across his face was a distraction, but he by the time they kissed again he was naked from the waist up.

[one_with_the_force]

Chirrut paused only long enough for Baze to untangle himself, and then he was back up against him. He wound his arms across Baze's more broad shoulders, pressed himself against his heavier chest. He'd put on so much muscle, carrying that armor and gun, that he hadn't had when they were young. Chirrut had stayed his willowy, wiry self.