Title: Jaxxon's Twi'leks 20-- If It Hurts
author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: R
Archive/Distribution: yes
Category: slash, h/c
spoilers: leads to Star Wars: Twilight, by Ostrander and Duursema
Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything. i am nothing
Summary: Quinlan Vos is getting nowhere in his investigations on Kiffex. Jaxxon commisserates the rest of the way. Continues immediately after chap.19
Authors note: reminder that Kiffar and Lepi are both touch-reading species.
previous episodes http://www.livejournal.com/users/hl
For reasons he did not want to acknowledge at the moment, Jaxxon was royally pissed at his so-called partner.
The Kiffar was stalking past Oni in nothing but a towel, back to his quarters on the other end of Rabbit's Foot. His whiskers bristled in annoyance at the human's shutting him out, so abruptly and thoroughly.
Hutch! They'd just had some pretty impressive fresher sex in there! And their minds had been making love, too; that was the whole point of it. No need to share that with the rest of the crew, that didn't know he was a Jedi, but simply rude to hide it from each other.
"Kim--"
The dark mass of hair over the brick-red torso continued down the corridor at the same efficient pace. Jaxxon let his annoyance tow him along after the smaller being, following him into his quarters. He slammed the door, muttering "Lock it, Foot," to the ship's AI.
"Kim. Quin!" He spun the man around by the shoulders to face him. "We are not done, here, man. I need to know some things. Like, urgently. Like, what is all this 'hurt me' crap all of a sudden?"
That got a response. The sullen, scowling facade cracked for a moment, as Quin had the decency to wince. Jaxxon drew in a breath of relief. He traced a big velvety finger along the man's jutting jawline.
"You want that sort of shit, you go to Lenara. Not to me." Not to your partner, he didn't add. A partner who would never hurt you on purpose, he admitted only to himself. "So what is it really?"
Quin lifted his eyes to meet the bigger, softer ones of the young Lepi. His voice was level as he answered, but hoarse with repressed emotion.
"Apologies. It was unfair of me... It's this place. There are things I need to deal with, regarding Kiffex." His matted locks were still dripping with moisture from their time in the fresher. Now, tears to match were welling in those intense eyes, above the yellow stripe beneath the beetling brow.
Hutch. Jaxxon's hands wound themselves into that mass of hair again, that they had clutched so many times, for so many reasons. This time, he didn't want the man turning away. Not now. His hands were partaking of the stew of rage and misery in that head, that had flavored everything that had gone between them since Quin had returned from confronting that Sheyf Tinte. His real life evil auntie.
"Better out than in, man. Share," he commanded quietly.
The dark stare at nothing did not waver. But the tears began to well out, rolling down the reddish face and dripping off the stubble on his chin. Jaxxon's breath caught at how much it hurt to see, much less feel-- decades of accumulated hurt. The silent torrent eventually gave way to sobs, discordant pathetic man-sobs that got Jaxxon sobbing along with him, part of the sharing.
They both saw it, this time. A star, a Guardian badge of office, passed from a trusted hand into those of a blameless child, weighted with unbearable horrors.
Not only at the atrocity he witnessed, but at that hand he had trusted. The Sheyf who had laid this upon him. The birthright that drove her to do it. The depths of darkness upon whose edge she danced.
This time they both saw it, and they both cried. The hurt of it coursed through the years of the man growing up, honing his abilities, doing what the Jedi required, all the time never free of the hurt, like veins of cold shadow in the depths of him. Pain at what he was. Kiffar. Guardian. Spawn of a hell-moon, where they were right now.
Where a Lepi with a big heart was wrapped around him, and crying too. Hutch, this sure answered his questions. This is where it came from. Hurt me, kill me; put me out of my misery-- because life is dishing out the misery, and life refuses to be fixed. "Oh, man," he choked out at last, coughing on his own tears. "You are so right. This place sucks."
And then they were both laughing and sniffling, at the utter inadequacy of those words. Quin took his towel off, so they could blow their noses on it. Then he pulled Jaxxon's zip down, just to get himself up against some fur, and snuggled in. No words. Just basic mammalian biology.
Jaxxon sat down with him on the bunk, curling his legs up around the man for good measure. He was in no hurry. Neither one of them was done crying yet. He wiped his face with the towel anyway, knowing it would be sopping wet soon. And dig this! All he had to do was think of Kiffex-- owoo--and he was crying again. Stuck with Kiffex. He gave a ragged sigh. Kiffex, the haunted moon less savory than a steaming pile of nerf droppings. Kiffex the cursed. Screw Kiffex and all its goddam Sith leavings. Because Kiffex screwed you first.
The trouble was, even if they left Kiffex lying there bleeding darkness into the galaxy, they still had the problem of being alive. Because being alive hurt. It would continue to hurt until they were dead. And still their treacherous bodies breathed in air, and their oblivious hearts beat and their stomachs growled. And all they could do was cower in the bunk, holding onto one another, for who knows how much longer.
Hurt me so I know whether I'm still alive. Hurt me, and I might feel better when it stops. Hurt me, and I just might die of it. Man, I don't like it here...
"Quin, it hurts too much." They were just a couple of goddam fountains of tears, now. Wetness streaming down his face, keeping Quin's hair wet; wet on his chest from Quin's tears. Sobbing was too much of an effort. Tears just leaked and fell, and they might never be numb and dry.
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Life hurts until you die of it."
"Charming."
Quin chuckled into his chest at that, a deep and pleasant vibration. Jaxxon pulled him in tighter, in case he did it again. Quin wrapped his arms tighter around the slim Lepi, too, beneath his clothing. It was warm, sharing a flight suit with someone.
"News flash."
"What?"
"Hanging onto you does not hurt."
They were both still crying, though. Jaxxon was, however, able to respond, with a sniff, "Excellent. Carry on, then."
"Thanks, Rug."
"You're quite welcome."
Silence, for a long time; then--
"Did that hurt?"
"No, not at all."
"How about this?"
"Oh, you know it didn't--"
"Or this?"
"Shut up and do it again, man."
They were both thirsty enough to drink each others' tears, and they did. And when they'd come all over each other, and cleaned one another of that come, and were kissing just for the hell of it, they noticed that they were both still crying.
Because it still hurt. Just a bit more distantly, was all.
Out of some instinct, they took turns sleeping. Jaxxon noticed that Quin didn't cry in his sleep. He hoped it would be the same for him, if he ever managed to sleep again, which seemed impossible at the moment. But he did sleep at last, when those reddish monkey arms ringed with the yellow tattoos tightened enough around him.
When he woke, his eyes were dry. And they were still alive. And this once again seemed to be a good thing. Quin was looking at him, with peace in his face, also done with his tears. The chronometer in the wall indicated that it was the middle of the Kiffex night.
"Hey, captain."
"Yes, partner of mine?"
"Let's go murder some defenseless food."
Jaxxon's stomach answered for him. So they went and did something about it. For now, it was something they were able to fix, unlike a lot of other things, which had to be ignored.
http://starwars-slash.livejournal.com/81210.html
author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: R
Archive/Distribution: yes
Category: slash, h/c
spoilers: leads to Star Wars: Twilight, by Ostrander and Duursema
Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything. i am nothing
Summary: Quinlan Vos is getting nowhere in his investigations on Kiffex. Jaxxon commisserates the rest of the way. Continues immediately after chap.19
Authors note: reminder that Kiffar and Lepi are both touch-reading species.
previous episodes http://www.livejournal.com/users/hl
For reasons he did not want to acknowledge at the moment, Jaxxon was royally pissed at his so-called partner.
The Kiffar was stalking past Oni in nothing but a towel, back to his quarters on the other end of Rabbit's Foot. His whiskers bristled in annoyance at the human's shutting him out, so abruptly and thoroughly.
Hutch! They'd just had some pretty impressive fresher sex in there! And their minds had been making love, too; that was the whole point of it. No need to share that with the rest of the crew, that didn't know he was a Jedi, but simply rude to hide it from each other.
"Kim--"
The dark mass of hair over the brick-red torso continued down the corridor at the same efficient pace. Jaxxon let his annoyance tow him along after the smaller being, following him into his quarters. He slammed the door, muttering "Lock it, Foot," to the ship's AI.
"Kim. Quin!" He spun the man around by the shoulders to face him. "We are not done, here, man. I need to know some things. Like, urgently. Like, what is all this 'hurt me' crap all of a sudden?"
That got a response. The sullen, scowling facade cracked for a moment, as Quin had the decency to wince. Jaxxon drew in a breath of relief. He traced a big velvety finger along the man's jutting jawline.
"You want that sort of shit, you go to Lenara. Not to me." Not to your partner, he didn't add. A partner who would never hurt you on purpose, he admitted only to himself. "So what is it really?"
Quin lifted his eyes to meet the bigger, softer ones of the young Lepi. His voice was level as he answered, but hoarse with repressed emotion.
"Apologies. It was unfair of me... It's this place. There are things I need to deal with, regarding Kiffex." His matted locks were still dripping with moisture from their time in the fresher. Now, tears to match were welling in those intense eyes, above the yellow stripe beneath the beetling brow.
Hutch. Jaxxon's hands wound themselves into that mass of hair again, that they had clutched so many times, for so many reasons. This time, he didn't want the man turning away. Not now. His hands were partaking of the stew of rage and misery in that head, that had flavored everything that had gone between them since Quin had returned from confronting that Sheyf Tinte. His real life evil auntie.
"Better out than in, man. Share," he commanded quietly.
The dark stare at nothing did not waver. But the tears began to well out, rolling down the reddish face and dripping off the stubble on his chin. Jaxxon's breath caught at how much it hurt to see, much less feel-- decades of accumulated hurt. The silent torrent eventually gave way to sobs, discordant pathetic man-sobs that got Jaxxon sobbing along with him, part of the sharing.
They both saw it, this time. A star, a Guardian badge of office, passed from a trusted hand into those of a blameless child, weighted with unbearable horrors.
Not only at the atrocity he witnessed, but at that hand he had trusted. The Sheyf who had laid this upon him. The birthright that drove her to do it. The depths of darkness upon whose edge she danced.
This time they both saw it, and they both cried. The hurt of it coursed through the years of the man growing up, honing his abilities, doing what the Jedi required, all the time never free of the hurt, like veins of cold shadow in the depths of him. Pain at what he was. Kiffar. Guardian. Spawn of a hell-moon, where they were right now.
Where a Lepi with a big heart was wrapped around him, and crying too. Hutch, this sure answered his questions. This is where it came from. Hurt me, kill me; put me out of my misery-- because life is dishing out the misery, and life refuses to be fixed. "Oh, man," he choked out at last, coughing on his own tears. "You are so right. This place sucks."
And then they were both laughing and sniffling, at the utter inadequacy of those words. Quin took his towel off, so they could blow their noses on it. Then he pulled Jaxxon's zip down, just to get himself up against some fur, and snuggled in. No words. Just basic mammalian biology.
Jaxxon sat down with him on the bunk, curling his legs up around the man for good measure. He was in no hurry. Neither one of them was done crying yet. He wiped his face with the towel anyway, knowing it would be sopping wet soon. And dig this! All he had to do was think of Kiffex-- owoo--and he was crying again. Stuck with Kiffex. He gave a ragged sigh. Kiffex, the haunted moon less savory than a steaming pile of nerf droppings. Kiffex the cursed. Screw Kiffex and all its goddam Sith leavings. Because Kiffex screwed you first.
The trouble was, even if they left Kiffex lying there bleeding darkness into the galaxy, they still had the problem of being alive. Because being alive hurt. It would continue to hurt until they were dead. And still their treacherous bodies breathed in air, and their oblivious hearts beat and their stomachs growled. And all they could do was cower in the bunk, holding onto one another, for who knows how much longer.
Hurt me so I know whether I'm still alive. Hurt me, and I might feel better when it stops. Hurt me, and I just might die of it. Man, I don't like it here...
"Quin, it hurts too much." They were just a couple of goddam fountains of tears, now. Wetness streaming down his face, keeping Quin's hair wet; wet on his chest from Quin's tears. Sobbing was too much of an effort. Tears just leaked and fell, and they might never be numb and dry.
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Life hurts until you die of it."
"Charming."
Quin chuckled into his chest at that, a deep and pleasant vibration. Jaxxon pulled him in tighter, in case he did it again. Quin wrapped his arms tighter around the slim Lepi, too, beneath his clothing. It was warm, sharing a flight suit with someone.
"News flash."
"What?"
"Hanging onto you does not hurt."
They were both still crying, though. Jaxxon was, however, able to respond, with a sniff, "Excellent. Carry on, then."
"Thanks, Rug."
"You're quite welcome."
Silence, for a long time; then--
"Did that hurt?"
"No, not at all."
"How about this?"
"Oh, you know it didn't--"
"Or this?"
"Shut up and do it again, man."
They were both thirsty enough to drink each others' tears, and they did. And when they'd come all over each other, and cleaned one another of that come, and were kissing just for the hell of it, they noticed that they were both still crying.
Because it still hurt. Just a bit more distantly, was all.
Out of some instinct, they took turns sleeping. Jaxxon noticed that Quin didn't cry in his sleep. He hoped it would be the same for him, if he ever managed to sleep again, which seemed impossible at the moment. But he did sleep at last, when those reddish monkey arms ringed with the yellow tattoos tightened enough around him.
When he woke, his eyes were dry. And they were still alive. And this once again seemed to be a good thing. Quin was looking at him, with peace in his face, also done with his tears. The chronometer in the wall indicated that it was the middle of the Kiffex night.
"Hey, captain."
"Yes, partner of mine?"
"Let's go murder some defenseless food."
Jaxxon's stomach answered for him. So they went and did something about it. For now, it was something they were able to fix, unlike a lot of other things, which had to be ignored.
http://starwars-slash.livejournal.com/81210.html
Comments
Post a Comment