Fire and Ice

[Malon]

Mon Safdie, Ord Antalaha


Mon Safdie was unlike any city Kalen had ever seen. Nestled in a mountainous valley, surrounded on all sides by lush forests, and cut in two by a massive river which turned into twin waterfalls that would've made the people of Theed green with envy, the city was the jewel of Ord Antalaha in the Colonies. The city's architecture was reminiscent of an age come and gone; in many ways, it reminded Kalen of the Holy City on Jedha. But the crown of the city wasn't the impressive bridge that connected the city's two major districts—it was the massive structure that towered over the city from the mountain peak it sat on: the SkyPeak.

The SkyPeak was built from the hull of a crashed ship whose name and origin were lost to history. As Ord Antalaha attracted the attention of spacers, and a city began to grow up around it, the abandoned ship's hull was repurposed and transformed—not into a palace or place of religious significance—into the largest cantina and casino on this side of Nar Shaddaa. A haven for smugglers, pirates, mercenaries, and others of ill-repute; and one of the few not under the thumb of the Hutts. It also had the added bonus of being off of Jedi radars.

A standard week had passed since the events in the Unknown Regions. Kalen had quietly spent that time sifting through the information he and Leon had acquired from the Jedi archives on Dantooine, staying mostly out of the way of the pirate's crew. He knew Giles' opinion of him (he'd overheard the man arguing with Leon enough about his presence on the ship); Natalia seemed nice enough, but Kalen didn't want to risk misinterpreting her cool demeanor for genuine niceness. And from all of this, he decided it was better for him to remain cooped up in the quarters Leon had so kindly provided for him to do the work he'd brought them here to do.

There was only one problem: mental fatigue was beginning to set in.

A week of staring at a glowing screen meant that words were beginning to blur together and his head was throbbing as a result. As usual, Leon had a rather blunt solution. Hence, he now stood in his cramped chambers, dressing in the casual attire Leon had gave him, preparing to go out to the SkyPeak for the evening. Kalen was certain that he was breaking just about every Jedi rule in the book, he couldn't help himself. The data was beginning to come together and, besides, a night out with Leon sounded far more enticing than spending another evening studying spider people. Even if that did mean he'd have to be in close proximity to Giles.

When he exited his quarters, new clothes clinging tight to his toned body, and glanced down the hall to Leon's chambers. He'd spent a lot of time, since his arrival on the ship, staring at that closed door, but he'd never dared go beyond it. Tonight, he decided to be the one to collect Leon from his chambers and vice versa. So, after a moment's hesitation outside the pirate captain's door, he reached up—hesitated again—and knocked softly on the durasteel.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

“You’re going to go outside with the Jedi now? Alone?”

Giles scowls at Leon in the ship cabin, where the last crew used to unwind as the day came to its end. An empty lounge sits in the center, flanked by small stands still topped with clear liquor bottles and unwrapped snacks. A hologame table continues to collect dust in the corner, and a row of lockers with the names of men long lost remain untouched and unused. Save for the occasional advent of Genevieve, with a dazzled Natalia close behind her, the cabin had been left hollow and idle since the loss of his crew in the Unknown Regions. The thought that he had failed them and had been the one to lead them to their own death’s continue to haunt him, and with every word dribbling out of Giles, that feeling only blistered. He was Captain of the Stardust— his crew was his responsibility, and now that they were dead, he had no one to lead. No one to roar in laughter with. No one to drink into a stupor with. Natalia was too busy with Eve, Kalen was too occupied with the Inferius, and Giles loathed him for allowing the Knight aboard— in the end, Leon was alone.

Fortunately for him, with Kalen on the brink of collapsing after hours of study, Leon had the chance to escape from the cramped confines of his ship. This was Ord Antalaha, after all, and no less the city of Mon Safdie, one of the more refined precincts of the sovereign world. There were markets that stretched from one end of the port to the other, bars brimming with the finest alcohol, rustic but folksy courtyards dotted in men and women from all corners of the galaxy. The city wasn’t only a prized gem among the roving hills and winding rivers of Ord Antalaha, but another nexus to hundreds of threads spread across the Outer-Rim. Here, the lives and careers of pirates, merchants, smugglers, refugees and likewise mixed together into a boiling pot of cultures. Nobody here would feel like an outsider, especially in the likes of Leon and Kalen, both now deviants to the path each had once followed.

“Giles, I think I’ve heard enough of your shit for today. Why not go out into the city without clinging to my side— enjoy the sun, have a drink or two. Who knows, you might even find a personality or two.” The pirate waves Giles away, much to his disdain, before turning away for the corridor. He stops short though, and his voice drops onto a serious note. “Also, Giles— leave the Jedi alone. I know you hate the Order, but he’s our best hope for putting those nightmares back in the Unknown Regions to an end.” His tone grows even deeper. Threatening, even. “Ah, and one more thing. If you lay a finger on him, or Genevieve, I will rip off your arm and beat you to death with it. Kapeesh?” Giles doesn’t respond, but Leon doesn’t push any further. He made his point clear enough.

From the dull light of the corridor, his body casts a shadow behind him as he mucks toward his own quarters. His clothes still reeked of the events from the week prior, and outside of the headache brewing in his mind, his hair was disheveled and caked in grime. If he wanted to look presentable on both the streets of Mon Safdie and at Kalen’s side, he’d have to at least clean himself up. So with a swipe of his hand, he opens the door to his room and vaults into the pint-sized bathroom in the corner. It doesn’t take him long to clean up— running his fingers through his hair, watching mud collect at the tiled floor, feeling the warmth of the water roll off his shoulders. It was a strange moment of relaxation, freeing his thoughts from those nightmares and the hostilities of the day. That was until he heard the distant knock on his door.

Leon groans before shutting off the spout and seizing a towel dangling from the curtains. Wrapping it around his waist, he stumbles out for the door and rips it open, expecting either an antsy Natalia or an incensed Giles still looking for more trouble. “What the hell do you wa—“ He stops short as his scowl falls not onto either of his crewmates, but rather the tentative silhouette of Kalen himself, all dressed in his personal attire and prepared to embark into the city. A mix of relief and embarrassment swell up within him. “Ah, it’s just you.” Allowing his growing anger to subside, Leon moves back toward his shoddy bed, where a litter of clothes laid in wait. Bare feet trailing water behind him, he adds, “You can come in. I’m almost done.”

Stooping down, he snags a makeshift towel, drying off his hair and face before slipping into a shirt. Plopping onto his bed, he likewise slithers into some worn undergarments and a pair of sleek pants, ready for their outing, despite the mere half-minute of preparation. Not that he exactly cared. This was Order Antalaha, after all— nobody gave a damn about nobody else. So long as they weren’t Jedi or Sith. Which wouldn’t be a problem, so long as Kalen kept his magic voodoo and flashing glowsticks to himself. Or really, on the ship.

Leon sinks into a set of polished shoes, perhaps the cleanest item in his quarters, and wafts toward the doors. “You don’t have to worry about Giles. I already spoke with him, and I doubt he’ll want to even mope along with us anyway.” He smirks as he passes Kalen, unfazed by the fact he had likely seen more parts of the pirate than he might have liked. “Let’s get going then, mate.”

@Malon #shameless​

 

[Malon]

It would take Kalen all night and some of the next to scrub the image of Leon in the buff from his mind. He felt somewhat like a schoolboy, and very much not like a Jedi, the way his face heated up and his eyes broke contact with the pirate's naked form. His gaze didn't remain broken. Curiosity got the better of him and he stole the occasional glimpse until Leon finished dressing. The look on the pirate's face was both smug and triumphant, which made Kalen's face deepen a shade. He stumbled out of the room as the pirate beckoned him with nary a word in reply.

He didn't find his voice again until they were both well beyond the walls of the ship. The city was alive with noises and smells that were both interesting and repugnant to Kalen all at once; all the same, it was unlike any city Kalen had ever bore witness to. Not the hive of scum that Nar Shaddaa always was (and was what he had been expecting). Oh, there were a hint of that, sure, but the city lacked the touch of the Hutts.

"Do you come out here often?" he asked as he glanced wondrously at his surroundings. "This city is so... exotic. It's a wonder the Hutts haven't sunk their grubby, sluggish claws into a place like it yet. They live for this type of thing."

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

“You’d be surprised— I know this city like the back of my hand,” he answers as his feet guide him forward. Past market stalls veiled under the shade of colorful sheets, past the glaring voices of its owners, beckoning strangers for a bargain. The smell of foods, familiar to unfamiliar, hang heavy on his nostrils. Smoke from roasting fish to paper-thin cigars wreathe and weave through the air. While the blend of aromas and onslaught on the senses might unnerve some, Leon reveled in it.

There was always something new when he roamed these streets, something curious or outlandish as he twisted down the many winding streets. It wasn’t like the swinish pollution of Coruscant, or the awkward congestion of Nad Shaddaa. This was far from the reach of the Republic, the Hutts, and the Sith. This was Ord Antalaha, the polestar to a thousand cultures. Here, you were as free— not bound by the rigid laws of the Jedi, exploited by an elitist Senate, or oppressed under the boots of Sith cultists. This was, in a way, the embodiment of independence.

“The Hutts are stupid, but not stupid enough to try and hook onto Ord Antalaha,” he continues with a smug look of pride. “Every man, woman, and child would fight to do the death to keep those damn slugs from spoiling this planet into another one of their shitholes— I would fight to the death to keep them away, too.” His smirk grows just from the thought of torching a Hutt with the flash of his blastsword, before melting back as he glances toward Kalen. “I know you probably think this world isn’t any better than Nar Shaddaa or Florrum, but believe me, this place… these people…” He vaguely gestures to the herd of vendors, traders, and civilians enveloped around them. “…they’re each more than the face of some criminal or scumbag.”

His eyes dart between the stalls lined on the boulevard, before stopping to recognize one such face, albeit familiar. Motioning Kalen to follow, Leon whisks past crates of explosive merchandise and packages full of retailed weapons, before stopping before a makeshift shop flanked with fruit and flowers. An old woman adorned in an embroidered hat sits behind the stall, her head fluttering into his direction. A surprised smile blooms across her face. “Leon Alderic. Never thought I’d see you again— and with someone new. Who’s this?”

The pirate captain smirks, trying to play off her latter remark. “Ah, yes. I couldn’t help stopping to say hello.” He gestures in between the Jedi and the young woman. “Anyway— Kalen, this is the beautiful Isabela. And Isabela, this is Kalen.”

She eyes Kalen, beyond curious, before flashing another smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Kalen. Now, what can I do for you two boys?” Leon glances to the Jedi with an ominous grin. In an instant, his hand swoops down and plucks a lavender-colored fruit from the stand. He tosses it to Kalen and snags another one for himself. “Two poma-drupes, of course.” Sifting through his pockets for but a second, he drops several credits into Isabela’s wrinkled fingers. “Keep the change.” The woman chuckles. “You’re too kind.”

With a wink, he turns away and bites into the fruit. While Leon had allowed the pair to veer off their course, he had done it only so Kalen might see past the faceless crowds and host of seemingly criminal acts of Ord Antalaha. When, in truth, there was still good here— in the people, in the planet, and even perhaps in himself.

“C’mon!” Leon coaxes, weaving out onto the uphill street. “We might have all day, but there’s still lots to see!”

@Malon​

 

[Malon]

Kalen spent the first few hours, after that moment in the stall, admiring Leon. Here, he saw the pirate for what he truly was. Not as a criminal. Not as a cynic who kept to himself. Here, he saw Leon as a free man who enjoyed the simple things in life. When that realization finally took hold, the beauty of the city around him truly came alive. He found smiles forming more easily than they had before. Before long, his worries had melted away—even those that stretched beyond his immediate situation to the stars; and not long after that, he found himself forgetting even his duties as a Jedi.

He particularly enjoyed the fruit the pirate had procured for him. The flavor was an explosion on his tongue that easily beat any fruit he had ever tasted before. "How is it, with all the resources the Jedi Order possesses, that this fruit has not graced the hall of a single temple I have eaten in since my induction into the Order?" He took another bite and flashed a genuine smirk at Leon.

As they made their way through the winding streets, Kalen soon found himself completely at ease. And, for a moment, he stopped caring about his duty or the Order. For that moment, all he wanted to do was be with Leon—the rest of the galaxy be damned. They had reached a high point in the city, with a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains, before he made this impulse known to his companion.

"Alright, pirate," he said ironically, with a twisted smirk still on his lips. "you win. Show me the places in this city you frequent. The best sights... I want to see them all." He resisted adding the with you to the end of that statement, but he knew the look he was giving Leon implied it.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

“You mean to tell me this is the first time you’ve had a poma-drupe?” Leon gapes, bewildered and shocked. His careen through the streets fall short as he stops to stare at Kalen. In silence, he looks to the Knight as if he had shat across his own outfit. He blinks once, slowly. “Well, shit. You Jedi seem to have it a lot worse than I thought.” He scoffs sarcastically, before taking a clean bite out of the fruit in his hand. Chewing it aloud, he adds, “Too bad decided to join ‘em. The life of a pirate is a life far more worth living.” He chuckles, referring to himself. Though his words, in a way, carried truth. Unlike the Order, Leon was never bound into the rules and regulations of a cult. He was free.

The pair continues toward the pinnacle of the city. All the while, Leon freely interacts with random strangers to familiar friends, enlivened even in spite of the events days prior. Hell, even in spirits this high, he’d have to be laced with intoxication. Except, in this case, he completely sober and no more baked than a raw potato. Whether his satisfaction stemmed simply from his return into Mon Safdie, from the sweet aftertaste of the fruit, or even out of the company of the Jedi Knight, he didn’t know. All he knew in that moment was that he was unfettered from the nightmares lurking in the Unknown Regions, and free-wheeling from the gruff stares of armed strangers. There was only him, Kalen, and the spectacle of Ord Antalaha.

Shimmering peaks swim through white clouds. A soft, crisp breath of air washes the edges of his face. The warm glare of the sun wades across the horizon. Leon sighs. He leans up against a railing close to the edge of the viewpoint, one arm lapped on the other before he smirks back to the Jedi close at his side. “Well, as a matter of fact, you’re already looking at one.” While his hands gesture to the panorama of the valley set before them, he winks, an implication to his smug flirt. The pirate had long already peered into the veiled glances and wry grins painted over his newfound companion, and found only a strange attraction. The question of whether or not Kalen fancied him had long juggled in his mind, but the real question Leon found himself asking was— did he fancy him?

Leon chuckles, letting his remark and the thought fall limp and right over the cliff. He wouldn’t tarry the thought any longer. “But alright— I have a few places in mind.” He props himself off the edge and waltzes back down the street. It’s not for a moment or two of wandering that he reins himself in before a picturesque, open-air establishment— or, in reality, a brothel. After all, in Ord Antalaha, there was no shame in the idea of a hustle. Laws and morality here were next to nonexistent, so Leon oftentimes found himself drunken into a stupor here, winding down with a stranger or two just for the thrill of it. And while he knew Kalen may or may not appreciate the thought, the pirate still found it funny. What would he do? How would he react?

“Welcome to the Smuggler’s Den.” Leon hovers into the apparent entrance, before being whisked away by a hostess and toward an open lounge tucked further behind the shade and veil of colored curtains and sheets. Several ladies perk up as he wanders inside, having recognized his face from a mile away. A handful likewise catches a glimpse on Kalen, a thought that both amused and, strangely, bothered the pirate. Still, he gestures the Jedi to follow him to the “private” lounge, adding sarcastically, “You’re going to have a blast here, I know it.”

@Malon​

 

[Malon]

"I confess myself a bit uncultured," Kalen laughed. "Being born and raised on Hoth has that effect on a guy."

He couldn't help but envy the freedom Leon had. The pirate certainly enjoyed himself. As a Jedi, it often felt as if the whole of the galaxy's troubles were on his shoulders. He felt this to be more and more true of late, with their recent troubles taken into consideration. Even with all they had seen in the Unknown Regions, Leon was able to smile genuinely and be free. Kalen could not say the same for himself. Was that a sign that being a Jedi was not for him? Or was it a sign being a Jedi was perfect for him?

He couldn't be sure.

As black thoughts whirled around in his mind, Leon showed him one beautiful sight after the other. Each view augmented Leon's smile and soon Kalen was very much away of how lovesick he was becoming. His stomach fluttered and churned; he found himself avoiding the pirate's gaze as much as he could manage; and the smiles he returned were shy as a school boy's. He was simultaneously embarrassed and amazed. Moreover, he couldn't help but wonder if Leon was feeling any of this too, or whether these were all just delusions he kept in the back of his own mind. The man was carefree, plainspoken, and flirtatious all at the same time, making deciding an all too difficult task.

The last establishment was almost a manifestation of all of these traits. Smuggler's Den. The moment he saw the establishment and the smirk on Leon's face, Kalen knew what it was and had the instinctual reaction to pull away and leave.... Yet he didn't. Dazed and confused, he nodded obediently and wandered cautiously into the building close behind Leon. Inside wasn't much better. Men and women alike were scantly dressed inside and Kalen at once felt extremely uncomfortable. He was certain Leon saw it; he was wearing it rather obviously.

When they were alone again, his eyes found and searched Leon's. "This wasn't... what I had in mind." He looked like a deer in headlights. "But... I suppose it's... interesting." A sudden, random surge of confidence made him smirk. "What exactly did you have in mind for us here?"

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Did Leon come here often? The thought strangely made him uncomfortable. Almost... almost indignant. Protective in a way that Leon would never allow—and yet it was there. He looked at Leon again and tried to will the thoughts away, all the while imagining what it would be like to be as free-spirted as Leon was—not allowing this place to bother him.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

“Interesting? That’s one way to put it.”

Light seeps past the veiled ceiling and bathes the brothel in red. Incense and tendrils of cigar smoke slither through the air. Their lounge is cut off from the main host of the establishment, but still open to prying workers— threadbare men and women, most human in nature but with a handful of familiar species.

"And what else do you think we're here for? You wanted to have some fun, so here it is." Leon similarly rifles through the drawn-out stare of the Jedi, hands on his lap. He sees the copper flares splayed outside the pupils, fascination sewn within. He would have tripped right into those eyes, snared by its inviting embrace, if not for the debut of several men and women, encased in thin clothing and far thinner patience. One woman, dark hair spilling off her shoulders, sits on his lap and traces a single hand over his arm. She leans over and whispers, “Hello, pretty boy.”

Leon’s gaze is torn away from Kalen, moving toward the woman with a distant flicker of interest. She eyes down on him, lips curling into an earnest grin. Her other hand grazes along the edge of his lower leg. He smiles in exchange, not bothering to glance over at the Jedi just yet. Although deep down, the pirate feels a strange semblance of guilt. While Kalen is purely a friend, no less one he met only a week prior, Leon still tastes a morsel of shame. Was what he was doing wrong? Did the Jedi not approve?

However, too enraptured into the physical embrace of the young woman, he continues his path for pleasure. Even as another half-naked woman arrives and nudges into the young Knight, legs scarcely covered and hands wandering over his frame. Whether or not Kalen reciprocated, Leon has little idea. Not yet. His focus remains solely on the girl, and likewise on the unfamiliar regret within. A regret that also strangely shifts into jealousy.

@Malon​

 

[Malon]

Kalen suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Not only did he feel out of place (Jedi did not frequent such places, even when on a mission to hunt down one subject or another), he was distinctly not attracted to... the personages Leon had summoned to "entertain" them. And when one of those women reached over to touch him, he abruptly stood and shuffled out of the booth, ignoring whatever protest might have hindered him.

Outside the booth, he found himself able to breathe again. Almost at once, he felt bad for storming out on Leon. A moment later, it finally dawned on him why he felt bad. It had never been much of a secret to the young Jedi that he was growing a tad fond of the pirate—perhaps fond in a way a Jedi should not be permitted, and yet it was there. Perhaps the "situation" inside the booth had finally made him take the thought more seriously.

Suddenly, he found himself very much hoping that Leon would come out of the booth after him. There was no point in denying himself anymore—not when he'd come this far. And, if they were to prevent any more situations of this nature, he needed to be upfront about a few things. Hopefully, he found himself thinking, this wouldn't all come back to bite both of them in the ass.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

Leon trails his hands over the lower back of the woman, spellbound in her beauty. Her fingers, like her breath, caress the edges of his face. She starts to lean in for a kiss, her lips puckering up like a doll. His doll. A toy for him to play or unwind the day with. Someone to love, if only for a passing hour. Yet, in spite of her perfect skin and perfect body, and regardless of her luring smile, he remains reluctant. Sure, she is the model figurine, but like every toy, Leon always grows bored, and ultimately discards them. Not that his doubts matter in the end, because as the girl slants forward, he moves to satiate his lust— because the only way he knows how to rid himself of temptation, is to succumb to its rewarding embrace.

Except, as he and the stranger stand centimeters apart, Leon catches Kalen suddenly walk out. He would have never noticed if not for the quiet pleas of his consigned lover— a ginger star-studded with freckles. “Where are you going?” She whispers, fingers grazing his shoulders as he recoils away. “The fun is just getting started!” The woman fastened over his own lap likewise perks up and rolls her eyes. “His loss.” She leans back in, but this time, Leon does not fall right into her lips. Rather, he shirks back, softly pushes her to the side, and rises from the lounge. “Sorry, ladies. Gimme a sec.”

Trailing behind the Knight through the curtains surrounding the booth, he stops short before him outside. Evening light bathes his silhouette. His heels tap against the floor, brows knitted together, before he cuts through the silence. “What’s the problem, Kalen? Was the girl too ugly? Too skinny? Wait— do you Jedi practice some chastity vow or something?” He shudders at the thought, then pauses a moment. “Or… do you prefer men? Not that I judge, of course, I mean—“ He pauses before he says anything stupid. “Well, I mean... just lay it out on me, man. I can fix this.”

@Malon​

 

[Malon]

Guilt dissipated and for just an instant Kalen felt hesitation. He was most certainly not using his Jedi training. Ration and patience had flown out the transparisteel viewport; he was thinking solely on feeling now—dangerous for a Jedi—but Kalen was well passed the point of caring. As Leon stuttered through various ways he could "fix" the situation, all Kalen could think about was how utterly obvious the solution was, and the fool either didn't notice or didn't want to admit that he knew the solution too.

So, rather than engage in another facade, Kalen turned and looked the pirate captain in the eye. "What's the problem?" He sounded incredulous. He had a whole speech mapped out, but that too dissipated conveniently as his hesitation (and restraint) reached its limits.

He seized the pirate by his vest and pulled him forward, smashing their lips together. Naturally, the action didn't go precisely as he planned it. The kiss was awkward at first—composed of clashing teeth and other such awkwardness. But Kalen corrected himself after a moment and gave it his all. Admittedly, he had never kissed another man before. Or anyone for that matter; but what he lacked for experience, he made up for in enthusiasm.

Still, when he pulled away at last, the guilt came rushing back in (and, along with it, thoughts of What have I done?). Those thoughts had friends too, like the one that told him that everyone in the establishment could see them. He doubted any of them cared. Some of them might've liked what they saw, and, yet, the embarrassment was there nonetheless. Even so, none of that mattered if Leon was okay, so the Jedi looked to see how he would react.

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

He hears his own question echo back to him. What did the Jedi mean? What is his problem? Leon pauses to gather a response, letting his words collect on his tongue before his thoughts instantly slip away— and right into the Jedi’s lips. By the time Kalen’s hands hook onto his frayed vest and pull him forward, only a single, fleeting “What?” escapes from his mouth. As for the rest of his sentence? It’s gone, just like his lingering guilt, his insatiable temptation, his craving desire. In the heat of the moment, everything he’s fears or scorns is down the drain and out the window. Forget those godforsaken spiders or those vile glares from the Jedi. There is only this moment and this moment alone.

Though eyes wide, his surprise melts away, and he sinks into his impromptu embrace. He feels safe and free from harm, for perhaps the first time in a long time. Then, his thoughts begin to flush back in. What the shit is he doing? Smacking lips with someone he’s known over the span of a little over a week? No less someone from the opposite end of the spectrum, in other words— a goddamn Jedi Knight? What the hell is the Jedi thinking? Or better yet, what the hell is he thinking? Not that Leon cares, because he doesn’t want to think about it. Only act.

A second after the two retract, Leon smirks and takes hold of Karen by the collar. Like he did only moments ago, the pirate tugs the Knight right back into a kiss. Before the two can continue any further, however, a distant cough echoes from across the street. “Get a room!” Leon shrinks back, but his smile remains tight across his lips. His fingers drop from the other man’s collar, and turning around, offers the stranger his own solitary middle finger. Scowling, they slither back around the corner, leaving the two men alone.

Leon scoffs and scratches the back of his head, now slightly flustered. “I think we should get back to the ship… Natalia and Eve is probably waiting for us…” A lame excuse, but one regardless. At least then he has an opportunity to escape, even if momentarily, from the both awkward and inevitable question: what the kriff just happened?

#shameless @Malon​

 

[Malon]

The walk back to the ship was perhaps the longest Kalen had ever taken. Worse, they made it completely in silence. Kalen spent part of the walk dazed by what he'd just done; the rest he spent kicking himself for doing it. Why did he do that? Why did he do it there? Why was he so bothered by the pirate's choice in... company? He didn't even need the Force to know that Leon was asking the same questions.

When they reached the ship, sometime later, Kalen shuffled passed the others without a word. It was all he could do to pray that none of them asked him what had so obviously happened; more, he prayed that Leon would at least give him the time of day to explain. But... could he? He was still having trouble explaining the situation to himself.

He showed himself to his room. If Leon was close behind, he didn't notice, too wrapped up was he in his own troubled thoughts. And when he was seated on the hard cot he'd called a bed, he kicked himself some more. Leon had tried to get him out and away from his work and he'd gone and ruined it. Perhaps his Master had been right; emotions were best ignored—they only got one into trouble (and that was putting it mildly).

"Well," he chuckled to himself (at himself). "I've always been a slow learner."

@Deviant

 

[Deviant]

“I don’t know, you seem to catch on pretty well.” Leon stood against the frame of the door, arms crossed over one another. He props himself off, and lets the door inch to a close. Slowly but surely, he approaches Kalen, adding, “Though I hope you don’t mind if I speed things up a little more myself?”

While the kiss and walk back to the ship was comically awkward, it was still all the more stirring. Still, the two men knew one another for so little time. Leon couldn’t even recall what the man’s last name was, if they had told him at all— but he felt a strange pull to him. Back in the Unknown Regions, the pair were polar opposites. Enemies, no less. But in spite of everything, they came out as allies, having saved one another from the claws of giant, godforsaken, man-eating spiders.

As for the strange temple on Dantooine? Leon had spilled much of his life, of his feelings, to the Knight. Even as the coarse glares of other Jedi gnawed at him from all sides, Kalen was different. He encouraged, heartened, relieved. Physically and mentally, they connected. Kalen saw the darker side to Leon, and Leon to Kalen. The fact that the Knight even invited the pirate into the halls of the temple was more than enough for him. He trusted him. No, they both trusted each other.

And today? They evolved beyond support and trust. Each man got to see what the other for who they were, and Leon liked what he saw. For whatever reason, he wanted to go even further. Was it lust? Or some misplaced sense of affection? He didn’t care— and that was exactly why he now took Kalen into his arms, and kissed him once more.

 

[Malon]

The second kiss was even more unexpected than the first. Kalen had honestly thought Leon would toss him off the ship and force him to take public transport back to the Order; he certainly wouldn't have blamed the pirate. But this? This was better. That was the last cohesive thought that went through his mind before he threw caution to the wind and gave in to what was happening to him.

I should stop this. Technically, the Jedi had nothing against romantic relationships. The Vis family was one example of that, though there were countless others. Still, there was a stigma attached to the practice and the older members of the Order frowned upon it (some more vocally than others). But, even so, there was nothing to stop him. Them.

Still, I should stop this.

But he didn't. Instead, he—reluctantly at first—reached up and took Leon around the waist, just as the pirate's arms were now around his, and drew him closer. As close as he could pull him. It was then that he surrendered fully, not caring what the Order or any of its older members might think, closed his eyes and let what was going to happen, happen. For better or for worst.

@Deviant