Eyeing the stew thoughtfully, Paz looked around the empty kitchen warily for a few seconds before reaching up hesitantly and removing his helmet to set on the counter, quickly sticking the ladle down into the stew, lifting it and pouring sauce and vegetable bits onto his tasting spoon.
He blew on it, reluctantly, knowing better than to stick the hot food into his mouth before finally tasting it, thoughtfully tasting the sauce as he put the spoon down and putting his helmet back on, his tense shoulders relaxing down as the HUD came up.
Even now, despite their covert being destroyed, being without his helmet was… discomforting to Paz and he knew Din felt the same, even if he was getting better about being exposed to Boba and Fennec.
But those two were different.
They were aliit now, allowed, Paz was just… slow. Struggling to adapt and there was no way he’d expose himself to any random asshole coming into the kitchen.
Thankfully none of the three of them blamed him, they were almost horribly understanding to Paz insecurities.
‘Then again, Din likely thinks the same about us and our treatment of him.’ Paz thought dryly, casting his mind back to when the other had fallen asleep against Boba’s knee in the karking throne room.
They had been so worried, Paz only barely managing to wait until the throne room emptied out before he picked up Din and carried him to Boba’s room. Boba still had to be the one to remove the helmet, Paz freezing up at the idea of doing it but…
Well, Din had simply been asleep as a proper check had told them, as confusing as that had been.
A bit of research, Din still sleeping, had given them the answers they needed.
It was that karking dumping thing again, apparently Paz cake had given the other dumping, causing Din to become so tired his body had shut down and he had fallen asleep this time. Fennec had outright printed out the dumping syndrome information for both Boba and Paz to keep an eye on, to know what to look for in the future.
The list wasn’t… pretty.
The list of symptoms were going to be hell on Din for sure if they didn’t regulate his intake. It also depressed Paz a bit to realize that several of the traditional recipes he had learned wouldn’t be so easy to feed Din, seeing as grease, fat and sugar could kick him into dumping syndrome.
It was actually why he was down in the kitchen, revising some of the old recipes, grateful that at least the medication Boba had gotten Din made it possible for the other to eat spices, as most mandalorian cuisine leaned heavily on hot dishes.
It meant that he wouldn’t have to cut that out of the dishes and Din would be able to eat at least partly what he was used to, even if Din generally survived on a diet of shitty rations and dehydrated stuff while on a hunt.
Still, while in the palace, Paz was determined to spoil the other.
Which meant reworking a few of the recipes from the Vizsla clan vast cookbook, a few which Paz suspected had come from other planets if he was honest, seeing as they contained ingredients sometimes only found on one planet and it was not Mandalore.
A sound echoed down the hall of the kitchen, a loud step and Paz tensed before he relaxed, glancing curiously at the door. Someone knew he was there and knew he was liable to pull a blaster on whoever showed up.
So, four possible suspect, the chef Boba hired, seeing as he already pulled a gun on her once for startling him and therefore she had started making deliberate noises in case he was there, Fennec, Boba or Din, as all three knew he was there at the moment.
Unconsciously, his lips twitched into a smile when Din stepped inside in his only his undersuit and helmet, the silver helmet looking about before the other padded over to him. “You’re making inglar?” Din questioned, pleasure in his voice.
Nodding, stirring slowly, Paz added another pinch of salt to the stew. “Yeah, figured you’d appreciate something hardy, since you’re heading out tomorrow.” Paz explained, forcing himself to not tense up when the bounty hunter leaned against his arm. The contact wasn’t unwelcome, just unexpected and he didn’t want Din to pull away.
“That’s kind of you, thank you.” Din hummed out, his vocoder crackling slightly.
He got a small snort and Paz continued stirring slowly. “Seeing how I messed you up yesterday, you deserved something hardy that wouldn’t fuck you up.” He couldn’t help but state wryly, smiling more when Din let out a soft chuckle.
“In all our defenses, we had no idea that would happen.” Din stated in a slightly cheerful tone, as if he hadn’t been upset as all hells the day before when he was informed. Not that he had stated as much but all three of them had gotten good at reading Din’s body language.
Instead of answering, Paz just curled his arm around the other in a one armed hug to his side, trying not to flush at the feeling of Din leaning into his chest. “Well, anyhow,” He cleared his throat, staring into the green tinted stew. “Your hunt tomorrow, wanted you well feed before you ran of into the desert. That’s where you’re going, right?” Tilting his head to glance at Din, Paz let his arm linger around him, seeing that Din wasn’t tense or moving away.
As he was watching him, he got to see Din nod. “Yes, Boba’s target skedaddled into the Jundland wastes, idiocy if I ever heard one. Either the tuskens are gonna get her or the heat will, if I don’t find her.” He snorted slightly.
Letting out a sharp snort of his own as he turned his faze to the pot on the stove, Paz simply nodded, enjoying the warmth of the other’s body. If there was anything Paz had come to learn, it was that Tatooine was hot as hell and that he was lucky to access as much water as he could to keep hydrated, all thanks to Boba. “Well, Boba does want the moron alive, but you know tusken signs, so if needed, you could barter with them.” He stated a tad dryly, breath hitching slightly as a low, warm chuckle came from beside him.
Honestly, if this was a year ago… he couldn’t imagine this.
Shuffling slightly as he woke, Anakin paused as he felt a heavy arm over his waist along with sweaty, thick legs between his own.
For a long moment, his head aching, Anakin struggled to remember what the hell had happened last night… and then he relaxed, grunting slightly with relief.
Rex, it was Rex in his bed, Rex, who had gone with him out bar hopping, Rex, who had his arm around Anakin’s waist, Rex who was pressed against Anakin’s body in an uncomfortable sweaty sensation and yet Anakin couldn’t bring himself to pull away from the man.
Because it was so rare they got to share a bed without having to hurry to get up and get to work.
They were finally on Coruscant, having a small amount of rest, Obi-Wan having managed to talk the council into giving Anakin and the 501stan entire week on Coruscant by taking over the system Anakin was suppose to clean up.
Force, was Anakin grateful to Obi-Wan for that.
Ahsoka finally got a full week at the temple, got to work on some of her homework, got to feel normal and Anakin’s men got to decompress and spend time with his brothers.
And Anakin?
Anakin got to spend time with Rex, his captain happily following him out into the slums to Anakin’s favorite little bar hops that never cared who he brought as long as the tabs were paid.
Oh, Anakin had noticed a few of the patrons staring at Rex but no one had approached them, all of them aware who Anakin was and aware that the owner of the cantina was fond of him.
The nightclub later on didn’t care at all, the half shadows making everyone anonymity in the throng of the crowds and the beat of music.
It had been fun, a drunken, relaxing moment, wrapped up with Rex for once, letting go of being a war General and a Jedi to spend time with the person Anakin cared the most for outside of his family.
Because Rex wasn’t… well he was family of course but he was something…more.
Curiously though, Anakin didn’t quite remember how they managed to return to the temple after their fun and he rather hoped they hadn’t made a fool of themselves in front of the sentinels and the nocturnal Jedi but knowing himself, he’d likely make a scene anyhow that Rex had dragged him from to Anakin’s quarters and bed.
“I can feel you thinking,” Rex suddenly grumbled, his hand suddenly tightening around Anakin’s stomach to pull him more tightly to his chest, the sensation almost disgusting with the amount of sweat trapped between them. “Stop it, its too early.” He huffed into Anakin’s neck, the stubble of his face rubbing the skin.
Shuffling slightly, Anakin grumbled and moved until he could face the other, finding Rex squinting slightly at him, a furrow between his brows.
Likely a hangover too from the looks of it and Anakin couldn’t help but smile fondly as he reached up to gently thumb the others temple. “Headache?” He whispered, letting the quietness of the morning linger.
He got a grunt in response but Rex frown eased when Anakin lightly brought the Force to aid. Now, healing Force wasn’t Anakin’s best trait but he could ease out a small headache and heal some injuries.
Force knew he had enough time to practice that with master ‘I am not invincible but I will use myself as bait.’ Kenobi.
Headache mostly gone, Rex pushed forward until his face was buried in Anakin’s collarbone, sighing contently as he rewrapped his arm around the Jedi’s waist, hand finding the small of his back to pet.
Deciding he might as well deal with most of his own headache, Anakin reluctantly settled in to meditate it away, settling as Rex continued absently petting.
Honestly, it was sweaty, their skin were uncomfortably sticking to each other and Anakin could faintly smell the sourness of Rex breath along with a slight undertone of stale alcohol.
Yet he didn’t find it in himself to move away, feeling content despite it all as he lingered in Rex arms.
They could take a shower later.
How often did they get to just linger in bed.
Together, the two went back to sleep, curled into each other with sweaty, sticky skin and the promise of a quiet day in Anakin’s quarters.
I’ve been real into Dom Boba lately. There’s just something about him. Din’s Sub collar has beskar studs and ring, and is inspired by SWModdy’s Sweet Princess series on AO3.
Clicking on the video and starting it, this video of the ‘Jedi are cats’ episode opened up with a kel dor standing in what was clearly the landing bay of one of the Venators, a sight most familiar at this point to the fans watching the Jedi and clones shenanigans.
Around him, ships were parked, troopers were working or just milling about and the Jedi simply stood there in front of the camera in the familiar Jedi attire the man in question seemed to prefer.
Settling his claws together in a triangle, Plo Koon watched his men curiously as one was digging through a box and another was filming him. “I’m uncertain what this little experiment is suppose to prove Boost, but as always, I’m quite willing to play along as we’re not busy at the moment, seeing as we are in hyperspace at the moment.” The Jedi stated good naturally, his mask moving in a way that indicated he was smiling.
The audience had long gotten used to several of the Jedi’s facial expression and Plo Koon was one of the easiest ones to read, always coming of as sincere and calm to the people watching.
“Its just something I read about on the holonet sir, a few of the people of the Republic had a question and wondered… well, its just a little experiment, won’t take more than a few minutes really sir.” The clone, Boost,apparently, stated cheerfully.
Several text bubbles, clearly comments on the videos before, popped up on screen, all containing a version of ‘my feline will sit in any square I put down in our home, taped, drawn or otherwise. Do Jedi follow this instinct?’
Finally, Boost found what he was looking for and stepped into view fully, showing that he was a mostly generic looking clone from the looks of things, however, his hair was red and was shaven into blocks, giving him a unique hairstyle.
In the trooper’s hand, a roll of black tape was held as he made his way over and knelt down, his Jedi tilting his head curiously to watch him work. Slowly and steadily, the man laid down tape, making first a meter long stripe and then another and another, moving around the Jedi until the man was standing in a taped of square of black tape on the durasteel floor.
Then Boost stood, grinning slightly as he swung the tape on a finger. “Well then sir, have at. That’s all I’m required to do.” The man stated with a small chuckle.
Plo, bemused, stared at the trooper, looked down… and then started laughing quietly too. “Oh I see, this is the box conundrum, isn’t it?” He stated with a deeply satisfied tone at seemingly having figured it out.
“The… box conundrum, sir?” The clone behind the camera questioned, Boost visibly pouting at his General as the experiment seemed to be a flop.
Plo however, nodded, turning his smile on the man behind the camera. “Indeed Sinker, the younglings back at the temple often do this with the temple tookas. Its to make them sit still long enough to approach them and build bonds,” He gestured down at the taped of area around him. “Felines are naturally curious, they know their territories well and any differences… well, it is a cause for curiosity, to be explored. Many of them will settle into the area to explore it. I imagine the public thought that might be the same for Jedi?” He turned his head to Boost.
The trooper nodded, sighing as he typed something down on a pad before kneeling down to remove the tape. “Yes sir, seeing so many questions about it, we figured we could test it. Its a harmless little thing after all.” He tacked on, grinning a tad.
Laughing, Plo reached out and gently patted Boost on the head. “Indeed,” He stated, ignoring how Boost seemed to still at the touch and lean into it. “It does however not work on us. Or well, that is a lie, some of the younglings in the creche, it will work on them. But as we grow older, we loose that instinct.” Plo stated warmly, stepping out of the square being dismantled, the last view was a softly smiling Boost as he continued cleaning up.
Underneath the video, a ton of comment came up, from the soft awws of seeing Boost reaction, those wanting to defend Boost little smile and then the massive amount going, ‘TEMPLE TOOKAS!? ADSAFDSFDSF!?’
Sufficient to say, there were more questions after that.
Pressing the straw to his padawan’s lips, Qui-Gon chuckled quietly as the boy thirstily drank, eyes wide as they peered up at Qui-Gon as he sucked greedily. “Water first, then I’ll see about getting you a soda, alright?” He murmured fondly, giving Obi-Wan a slightly sterner look when a whine escaped him.
That quieted him down and he focused on clearing the cup of water instead.
Obi-Wan had woken up only half an hour ago, the nurses and medics checking him over before declaring that they wanted the boy to stay overnight before they released him, just in case. In the meantime, Qui-Gon had been encouraged to have Obi-Wan drink and rest and for the trip back to the temple, keep resting and drinking.
Obi-Wan however had an issue drinking water at times, it had to be ice cold before Obi-Wan drank it without fuss generally but right now, Qui-Gon was uncompromising.
A cup of water and then his padawan could have flavored drinks.
Back a the temple, in their own kitchen, they generally had several types of concentrates to create their own flavored drinks, mostly fruit related ones, to ensure Obi-Wan drank something beyond tea as too much caffeine wasn’t great on a growing body.
It was the healers that had suggested the flavored concentrates and frankly, Qui-Gon didn’t mind.
He sometimes indulged in them too but generally stuck to clear water or tea.
Obi-Wan however was different and Qui-Gon had understood that, therefore stocked appropriately, be it the foods Obi-Wan favored on special days or be it the liquids required to ensure his hydration along with the fidget toys to keep him occupied.
Finally the cup was empty and Qui-Gon set it aside, gently running his hand over his padawan’s short hair with a small smile. “Well done Obi-Wan, I know that wasn’t the best but I’m proud of you.” He murmured, knowing how important positive reinforcement was for the other.
Pushing into the touch, Obi-Wan preened slightly, smiling shyly up at him. “Now can I get a soda?” He asked quietly.
Reaching into his robes, pulling out Obi-Wan’s fidget cube and pressing it into his hands, Qui-Gon nodded. “Of course, just give me a few minutes. The drinks machine is down the hall and rather busy, so it will take me a few minutes. Do you have a preference?” He questioned.
Pausing, flickering the button on his fidget cube, Obi-Wan furrowed his brows before looking up, shaking his head. “Not really but something fruity would be best.” The boy stated, curled up in the medbed, looking so much smaller for it.
Nodding, stroking his hand over the short spikes once more, Qui-Gon turned and headed out of the room, breathing deeply.
He was so relieved that despite the injuries he received, Obi-Wan didn’t seem worse for wear. Simply tired, somewhat antsy and a bit bored, as anyone would be in a medical facility.
Qui-Gon was doing his best to filter and block the normal miasma of pain and discomfort echoing in the Force in the medical center and so far, it seemed to be working as Obi-Wan rested properly.
It could also be the painkillers he guessed but many Jedi, Obi-Wan among them, never rested well in medical facilities, the general state of people in search of healing, of people dying and despair often echoing in the Force around them.
Even the Halls in the temple had remains of it, despite the Healers doing their best to purify the Force there.
With Obi-Wan’s sensitivity, coupled with his ADHD, Qui-Gon had worried…
Well, they were getting out of the facility tomorrow and back at the temple, Yan would be waiting for them.
He was actually nervous about that, he wasn’t sure what Yan would say about Obi-Wan once he meet him and it had been such a long time since he himself had seen his old master… but, well, Yan had been briefed about Obi-Wan’s condition.
For all their sakes, Qui-Gon hoped it would go well.
SWpromptsandask 