Baze wakes with the sounds of the market filtering up to the single window in the tiny room he and Chirrut share. For once, none of his usual aches and pains are blaring their good mornings at him and Baze feels a rare optimism towards the day ahead. Baze shifts his shoulders against one of the pillows lining the side of the bed that meets the wall. Under his arm, Chirrut lies on his back and snuffles. As always, Baze feels the fire in his chest that burns for Chirrut leap when he looks at his husband. Sometimes it’s a candle lighting a room, gentle and soft, other times it’s a supernova, brilliant and consuming all his thoughts. As of now, he thinks of a hearth, how the man sleeping next to him is his home and how Baze would do anything to protect him. In his sleep, he’d kicked their sheets to the bottom of the bed, and they trail off the edge onto the ground. If the weather weren’t so uncommonly warm this spring, Baze is sure his husband would be cocooned in them; instead, he sprawls in their bed unabashedly nude save for a scanty pair of white briefs slung low around his hips. Chirrut snuffles again, and then throws a leg over Baze’s shins—his thighs fall open to reveal his half-hard cock.
Baze smirks and pushes himself up to his knees to hover over his husband. Chirrut looks so soft and pliant that Baze can't help but run his hands in the lightest of touches down his body, showering gentle butterfly kisses on his husband’s face that looks so boyish in sleep. Moving down his body gradually so as not to break the syrupy-hazy mood surrounding them, he mouths along the waistband of Chirrut’s underwear as his callused hands inch their way up his husband’s thighs. Baze wraps his lips around the head of the stiffening cock through the fabric and hums softly; Chirrut turns his face into the pillow and mumbles Baze’s name. He pulls Chirrut’s underwear off as he cranes his head back up to rake his eyes over his husband's body, fully stretched out and resplendently naked. Baze drinks in Chirrut's mouth falling open on a sigh, his long smooth golden neck, the hard planes of his muscled body, his cock standing almost at perfect attention in one of Baze's callused hands. The other has Chirrut's sac in a light grip, gently rolling it in his palm. His mouth waters at the thought of taking his husband’s cock into his mouth, but instead he slicks the palm of his hand and fists Chirrut’s cock to full erection. Then he leans down to breathe a warm exhale over the head, making it twitch.
Baze drags his tongue up Chirrut's length from the root to the crown of his flushed cock, lapping around the head until Chirrut whimpers softly above him. Gazing at his husband's sleep-soft face, Baze licks at his cock until he's nice and wet, and then takes him into his mouth in one smooth motion. Chirrut’s hips roll weakly and Baze holds him down. He pumps the base of his cock in a slow rhythm, languid as the sunlight shining through their window and creeping it's way up the walls of their home. He slides his pursed lips up and down his husband's cock and releases his sac to let a finger wander behind to the delicate skin hidden behind. He draws his finger back and forth across it in time to the bobbing of his head and watches Chirrut's mouth form an O, moaning almost inaudibly. Baze redoubles his efforts, twisting his head every time he draws back so only the tip of Chirrut's cock fills his mouth. When his nose presses against his husband's groin on the slide back down his cock, Baze scrapes his beard against the sensitive skin there and Chirrut makes an actual noise, something between a gasp and whine and tosses his head to the side, fingers curling against the bed sheets, abdomen twitching under Baze's hand.
The salt that Baze can taste on his tongue makes him moan deep in his throat, and Chirrut echoes it, legs jerking beneath him. Baze holds one of his hips and swipes his thumb along the sharp jut to gentle his husband. A tremor runs through Chirrut’s body as he bites his lip and whimpers helplessly, and suddenly Baze’s hunger spikes into an insatiable need to devour. He pulls off of his husband’s length to bite a kiss into the junction between Chirrut's thigh and groin and is rewarded with a ragged hitch of breath. Rubbing two fingers against Chirrut's perineum with more pressure now, he nips at the skin of his husband's inner thigh and gently runs his hands through the hair around Chirrut's stiff length, being careful not to actually touch his cock. He watches in something close to glee as Chirrut's eyelashes flutter, and then open slowly. The bob of his husband’s throat as he swallows and finally wakes up elicits a sense of possessiveness in Baze. Chirrut drags a hand down the sheets to find Baze's face and hold his cheek; Baze turns his head to nuzzle into his hand. He kisses Chirrut’s wrist and rasps out, "Good morning."
And without waiting for his husband to reply, Baze swallows down his whole length at once, humming as deeply as he can so the vibrations run from the tip of Chirrut's cock bumping against the back of his throat to the rest of Chirrut’s body. His husband throws his head back and groans hoarsely, the hand on Baze's cheek traveling back to bury tightly in his mane of hair. Chirrut's chest heaves as Baze increases the speed and hard suction of his mouth, and his hips buck up, chasing the slick tight heat of Baze’s mouth. Baze braces a hand against the bed and leans up, Chirrut's cock slipping out of his wet mouth, a drip of spit connecting his leaking cock to Baze's lower lip. Chirrut makes a frustrated noise and yanks on his hair, but Baze simply moans heavily as he sucks on his fingers and then slides them back down between Chirrut's leg to tease around his hole. Chirrut swears on a choked inhale as Baze licks the slit of his cock; Baze isn’t sure what Chirrut just said in his native tongue, but he’s sure his husband just called him something vulgar and it makes him chuckle against the tip of his cock. A harsh sob escapes Chirrut’s mouth—it turns into a sob of relief when Baze takes him back into his unrelenting mouth and slips a finger in to rub over his prostate.
Chirrut pleads with a bleary voice, Baze’s name unfurling from his tongue and snapping into the heavy air like a flag buffeted by a Jedhan sirocco that blows through the city from the southeast. Baze takes no prisoners—he swallows Chirrut down to the hilt, groans as loudly as possible, curls his finger inside Chirrut sharply, and savors every drop as his husband spills down his throat with a tremulous keen. He keeps sucking on his cock as it gradually softens; Chirrut whines when it becomes too much for his oversensitive nerves and pulls Baze off. Chirrut looks absolutely wrecked, but Baze can’t resist and licks one more time at the underside of the head, leans forward to run the slightest edge of his teeth against the frenulum, gently twists his finger inside Chirrut, until his husband squeaks and shoves him off with both hands to his face.
Baze laughs into his husband’s palms as Chirrut tries to gather himself and smacks him on the forehead with a garbled insult. Baze can’t help but laugh even louder as his husband flops back against the bed flustered and limp.
“Good morning,” he repeats as he draws his finger out of Chirrut and drops a kiss on his stomach.
“Nnngh, mrn” his husband valiantly attempts to answer and flops an arm over his face.
Baze’s erection is straining against his sleep trousers, but he finds it more imperative to press reverent kisses up Chirrut’s torso to his husband’s chin, running his beard along Chirrut’s jaw to whisper in his ear, “It’s time to get up.”
Chirrut flails an arm weakly at his shoulder and Baze snickers into his husband’s cheek.
“It’s time to get up, love,” he coaxes.
“You already got me up and then you got me off. Shame on you for taking advantage of a sleeping man, Baze Malbus.” Chirrut pretends to grouse, the irrepressible smile stealing over his mouth giving him away.
“Mmmm, shame on you for being so immodest, Chirrut Îmwe,” Baze teases back, sliding a hand down his husband’s toned body, “flaunting such a body is unbecoming behavior in a monk.”
“But it’s very becoming in a spouse,” Chirrut purrs while he slips his hand into Baze’s drawers, “though you won’t be coming in your spouse because he doesn’t have the energy to take your thick cock right now.”
Chirrut pulls on Baze’s cock and Baze presses his lips to Chirrut’s wickedly pink mouth with a smothered laugh. He groans as his husband uses every dirty trick he’s learned over several decades of marriage to bring Baze to a quick yet bone-deep and satisfying climax. Baze melts into his husband’s chest and Chirrut wipes his hand off on Baze’s pants to circle his arms around Baze with a sigh.
“I thought you said it was time to get up?” Chirrut lilts.
Baze snorts into Chirrut’s chest and shifts to meld further into his husband. He listens to a merchant down on the street hawk his wares, the low drone of their shabby air conditioner trying its best to cool their room, Chirrut’s steady heartbeat under his ear. He can smell hints of the elemi soap Chirrut used last night, the scent of incense that always seems to cling to his husband underneath that, and Baze thinks there may be the faintest traces of ozone from himself. He closes his eyes so he can see all that Chirrut does. He smiles.
“We can stay in bed a little longer.”