What had once been spiritualism was becoming politics, which was becoming war. Perhaps some of them realized they'd lost the path somewhere, but there was also a righteousness in the air. What they were doing was right. Taking on militaristic titles and leading the charge. They'd both been there, in the arena, cornered and fighting and watching others fall.
Now a rare reprieve. Kit was a companion, a friend, and when the battle was done, Aayla hadn't even realized they'd taken the same small ship, only the two of them. Something had pulled them together. They weren't heading for Coruscant. They weren't regrouping with the others. Kit put in their flight path, to a place full of water. Water called to him as much as the Force did, and this world was relatively close.
Aayla was tired, dirty, battered, full of a buzzing energy that vied with her fatigue. They should meditate. Or something. Something they'd been taught. Instead, she let Kit lead her, let him see this moment of weakness in her. He brought her into the water, and she floated there. He brought her under and breathed for her, and a memory of another time, which she currently couldn't recall if it had passed or was to come, slipped through her grasp. Her fingers found the tendrils along his head, and his found hers. Deliciously sensitive flesh neither let anyone caress until now.
Aayla needn't scrub off the dust of battle, as the water and their movements within it did that on its own. His hands as well, skimming and exploring. Even in his boldness, there was something timid there, his black eyes watching her for approval. She gave it by peeling at Kit's much heavier robes, opening him up easily to the world he knew, to swim freely. He did the same for her, showing her how to be one with the water through mere touch and example.
Deeper, not so much swimming as slowly falling. She wouldn't drown. She trusted him, that his lips would consistently be there for breath. The air was sweeter coming from him. flavored by him. Her lekku floating and seeking his head tentacles in kind, twining, this act more erotic than any nudity could have been. Then another piece of him in her, her sigh trailing bubbles up from her lips. Then his mouth sealing over hers to feed her more of his sugared air.
Back and forth they went like this, breathing in opposites. Feeding her air and himself, moving in tandem with her body. There'd been so much loss, a ripple in the Force that was exhausting to feel. But they were alive and vital and here sharing their life. A celebration of their survival. A groping and gripping desperation, too. Slick and full, feeling she'd never been so deeply touched as this, thinking mutinously that meditation had nothing on Kit underwater.
Then a soft burst in her lower belly, like a small death, making her limp against him. Feeling how he followed her and spilled, breathing sounds into her mouth. Then swimming her slowly to the surface and breaking it with his arms around her. She caught her breath, letting his chest hold her as the water buoyed them. And she felt so clean.