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The hot Taanabian sun shone high in the sky. Hobbie paused in the middle of swimming a lap and rolled onto his back in the clear water, floating with his eyes shut, enjoying the warm sunlight beating down on his skin. He loved swimming -- the comfortable feeling of the water supporting him, the way he could dart through it or hide beneath it, the way nobody could catch him or make him hear their scoldings. That hadn't actually been an issue for the past twenty-five years, not since he left Ralltiir and his overbearing birth family behind, but he still felt both safer and more free while swimming than on dry land or even in the sky. The water had been the first place that felt like home to him… and now, here in his own private swimming pool on his and Wes's small farm, he felt as truly at home as he ever had.

He flipped over and started swimming again, paddling with his one remaining arm. He wasn't quite as fast this way as with his legs on, and he had to make an extra effort not to swim in circles, but he loved how light and agile he felt in the water without his prosthetic limbs. Even though the two legs and an arm now sitting wrapped in a towel by the side of the pool were lightweight, sensitive, customized to match his build and coloring exactly -- much higher-quality than most of the prosthetics he'd had during his piloting career -- sometimes it was just nice to flit around without them.

Reaching the end of the pool, Hobbie caught the pool's edge with his hand and floated there, shaking the water out of his ears. At this hour, the security wall around the pool area cast very little shadow. Wes was lying facedown on a long towel a couple of meters away, his breathing soft and slow, his naked body gleaming slightly under the bright sun. Hobbie smiled fondly, gazing at his lover's muscular frame, so different from that of the gawky boy he'd met on Yavin IV all those years ago. Now well into his forties, Wes still had the broad shoulders and narrow hips that genetics had blessed him with, overlain with the fit muscles of his active lifestyle. No trace of silver was visible in his black hair, though a few wrinkles had finally begun to crease his tawny skin. One of his big, endlessly clever hands lay tucked by his head; his other arm was flung out sideways.

Hobbie took a few extra seconds to admire Wes's tight little butt -- one of his best features, in Hobbie's personal opinion -- then, gripping the edge of the pool, he bobbed up and down a few times to gain momentum. He pulled himself up, doubling over the pool's rim and over his forearm where it rested on the decking, then hooked his knee onto the decking as well and levered himself out of the pool.

He rolled onto his back and lay there for a couple of seconds, reorienting himself, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. Then he rolled over twice more, getting further away from the pool, and sat up, within arm's reach of his partner. "Wes?" he called gently.

Wes popped his head up. He looked completely awake, but Hobbie knew he'd been dozing by the split-second delay before he located and identified Hobbie, before his grin lit up his face. That was good; someday, if they lived long enough, Wes might relearn how to wake up slowly, healing from the twenty years of combat reflexes that had been seared into his nervous system.

"Hey, Hobbs," Wes said, his eyes crinkling. Those little laugh-lines were new, just this year, and Hobbie found them devilishly attractive. But then, he'd probably still find Wes attractive when they were both into their hundreds, white-haired and flabby and with all their teeth gone. Hobbie hoped he'd get to find out.

"Help me put on more sunscreen?" Hobbie asked. Even the most water-resistant sun protection gels rinsed off his bony shoulders after a few hours, and he had no wish to repeat what had happened his first summer here, when his pale skin had constantly burned, peeled, re-burned, and even cracked painfully under Taanab's fierce sun.

Wes pushed himself up to a kneeling position, grabbed the bottle of gel that sat nearby, and scrambled to one end of the long towel. "Scoot over here, you're going to burn your butt," he said.

"Am not," Hobbie retorted almost automatically -- the synthetic decking around the swimming pool really wasn't that hot yet, and anyway, unlike Wes, he was wearing his bathing suit -- but he hitched himself over onto the towel, sitting with his back to Wes.

"Are too," Wes said, his mischievous grin evident in his voice. Hobbie heard the little pop of the bottle top opening, the soft squelch of the sun protection gel, then felt Wes start slathering the gel across his back and shoulders.

Absentmindedly, leaning into Wes's supportive hands a little, Hobbie started checking the tight-fitting rubber seals that kept water out of his prosthetic interfaces when he swam: one above where his left bicep used to be, one in the former middle of his left thigh, one just below his right knee. All three were secure.

"Sorry to bother you," Hobbie said. He could have reapplied the gel himself, but he'd have had to put his other arm on, then take it off again and replace the rubber seal. Besides, this way was more fun.

"Oh, sure," Wes drawled sarcastically. "What a nuisance. I have to rub my hands all over my husband's sexy, sexy body." He pressed a little kiss against Hobbie's spine just to make his point. Then, finishing with Hobbie's back, he shifted position from kneeling to sitting, stretching his legs out on either side of Hobbie's hips, and set the bottle of gel down by his knee. He scooted forward, pressing his broad chest against Hobbie's shoulder blades as he reached around Hobbie's waist to start smearing sunscreen over his stomach and up across his chest. Hobbie could feel Wes's hardening cock nudging against his tailbone.

Hobbie chuckled and leaned back, snuggling against Wes. "I'll let you seduce me in a minute," he promised, twisting around to drop a quick, awkward sideways kiss near the corner of Wes's mouth. "Sunscreen first." Picking up the bottle of gel, he squeezed some out onto his thigh, then swiped it up onto his fingers and began applying it to his face and neck, careful not to get any in his eyes.

"Don't forget your ears," Wes said, rubbing gel over Hobbie's left shoulder, then across his collarbones.

Hobbie grunted wordlessly, continuing his work. He always felt a bit embarrassed to have to be reminded his ears existed, but it was better to have Wes remind him than have them painfully burned for days. Wes scooped up the bottle, squeezed out another dollop of sunscreen, and worked his way down Hobbie's right arm -- doing his best not to interfere with Hobbie's own movements -- then over his left leg. Hobbie leaned back against Wes's chest so Wes could get the back of his thigh, at the same time rubbing the rest of the gel on his right leg around and under his other thigh.

Finished with the sunscreen, Wes wiped his hands on Hobbie's thighs, then reached down and palmed Hobbie's cock through his tight-fitting red swimsuit. "Seduce seduce?" he asked hopefully.

Hobbie snorted a laugh. "Smooth talker," he said, grinning. "I'm convinced. Hold my shoulders for a minute." With Wes helping him balance, he pulled down his swimsuit past one buttock, then the other. He worked the waistband over his hardening cock, then slid the suit down his legs and tossed it aside.

Wes wiggled against him, pressing his hard cock against Hobbie's lower back, and started to nibble little kisses along the muscle above his collarbone, then stopped with a disgusted little spluttering noise. Hobbie chuckled fondly and straightened up a bit, smug pride filling him. He didn't consider himself a particularly sexy man -- more like gangly, uncoordinated, angular -- but for whatever reason, Wes always seemed to find him incredibly distracting. Hobbie felt immensely flattered that he could reduce the New Republic's most fearsomely organized executive officer to complete uselessness, just out of desire for him.

Wes laughed too, not at all embarrassed by his own lack of forethought, and reached to grip Hobbie's cock. Hobbie smacked his hand lightly. "This is a seduction, grabby-hands, not wrestling practice," he said cheerfully. "Lean back."

"Fiiiine," Wes mock-whined, leaning away from Hobbie, settling back onto his elbows. Hobbie twisted around and lay down more or less on top of him, squirming into a comfortable position as Wes lay back. He reached between them to rearrange his cock as it hardened further at the friction, then settled fully on top of Wes.

Wes wrapped his arms around Hobbie, holding him close, and craned his neck upward, reaching for a kiss. Hobbie leaned down and kissed him passionately, licking into Wes's open, receptive mouth, feeling Wes lick and nibble right back.

"Oop," Wes said, breaking the kiss for a second. "Sunscreen. Butt."

"Whoops," Hobbie said. He'd completely forgotten. "See, this is why I keep you around." Getting his hand under him, he pushed himself up and rolled sideways in one smooth motion, to sit on Wes's thigh.

"That and my stunning personality," Wes agreed, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand.

Hobbie handed him the bottle of sun protection gel and lay back down, not quite as gracefully as he'd sat up. "Definitely not because I just want to fuck you into the middle of next week," he purred, wriggling to align his cock next to Wes's under his stomach.

Wes swallowed back a groan. "Hold still for two seconds," he complained. There was another quick squishing noise, then Wes set down the bottle and began rubbing gel over Hobbie's buttocks and hips, squeezing his butt maybe a little more than was necessary. Hobbie leaned down again, dropped a little kiss on Wes's nose, then began nuzzling more kisses down his cheekbone and over the rest of his face, not very patiently.

Finally, Wes ran his palms all the way up Hobbie's back to his shoulder blades, then cupped them around his jaw, shifting Hobbie’s head so he could kiss him hard and deep. "Want you," he grunted into Hobbie's mouth, the words only intelligible because Hobbie knew him so well. Hobbie felt Wes bend his knees, thick-muscled thighs tightening against Hobbie's hips for a moment, and arch a little as he settled his feet solidly on the decking, ready to fuck against Hobbie.

Hobbie set his own knee firmly against the towel-covered decking between Wes's legs, making sure he had the leverage he'd want. He broke the kiss for a minute and nuzzled under the side of Wes's jaw, sucking hard at the skin there, while he found a good position to brace his forearm near Wes's head.

Wes slid his hands back down to Hobbie's butt, squeezing and tugging gently, urging him to move. "I'm about ten seconds from flipping you over and getting this party started already," he warned, only half joking.

Hobbie pulled back from Wes's neck and shifted deliberately against him, looking down into his face. In the scant shadow of Hobbie's head, Wes's pupils were blown wide and black, his eyes already half-dazed with want. "Ask for it," Hobbie suggested very gently, still moving his hips slowly, teasing Wes.

Wes arched against Hobbie, a moan spilling from his lips as his hands tightened on Hobbie's butt. "Fuck me now," he pleaded, his voice thick with lust.

Hobbie smirked. He rested the stub of his left arm on Wes's shoulder, giving him a third point of leverage, and thrust his hips forward, fucking himself against Wes's hard stomach muscles. As he rocked, he shut his eyes, focusing for a minute on the amazing feeling of Wes's body grinding up against him, Wes's hands on his butt urging him on, Wes's thick cock sliding beside his own. For as long as they'd been together, it never ceased to amaze him that he could actually have this -- that this sexy, ridiculous, unreasonably lovely man was his, all his own.

Opening his eyes, Hobbie leaned down and kissed Wes again. He felt Wes suck and nibble at his lower lip, teeth tracing lightly along its edge, whimpering softly as Hobbie moved against him. Bracing his knee against the decking, Hobbie thrust faster, harder, feeling Wes buck needily before he found the new rhythm.

Wes arched his neck, tipping his head back, and little half-moans began to spill from his lips. This was one of the things Hobbie loved most about sex with Wes: seeing him like this, exposed, unguarded, willing to ask for his needs and wants like he did no other time. Hobbie pressed a string of little kisses against Wes's jaw, his own breathing ragged in his throat. He himself wasn't any more vocal during sex than he was in daily life, but even in crowded barracks or thin-walled officer's quarters where silence was more convenient, he wouldn't have given up Wes's pleading little noises for the whole galaxy.

Wes shifted under Hobbie, losing their shared rhythm for a minute, and slid one hand between their bodies. Hobbie gasped as Wes's big, callused hand wrapped around both their cocks, only half-slick with leftover sunscreen gel. For a second he stopped moving, a brief groan escaping him, then he began fucking desperately into the new friction, too close now to his own release to be fully coordinated anymore. Wes arched and bucked under him, beginning to fall apart as well, half-formed words like "please" and "harder" tumbling out of his mouth. Hobbie thrust against him fiercely, panting with desire. Sweat trickled down his back under the hot sun as he moved.

Finally, Wes let out a strangled cry and jerked upward, trembling as he spent himself. Hobbie bucked into his grip a few more times and came as well, silent gasps shuddering out of him. Wes pulled his hand out from between them, and Hobbie flopped down, panting, feeling Wes's broad chest heaving under him, feeling the sticky mess between their stomachs, their slowly softening cocks.

After a few moments, Hobbie reached out and grabbed one of the spare towels that lay nearby. He rolled sideways, enough to reach between their bodies; Wes wrapped one arm around his shoulders to help him balance. Hobbie carefully wiped them clean, enough that nothing important would get stuck to anything it shouldn't, then tossed the towel aside and flopped down again. They lay there for a few more minutes, catching their breath, simply enjoying each other's presence and the afterglow of their orgasms.

Wes wrapped his arms around Hobbie and hugged him close. "You're the best, Hobbs," he said.

Hobbie reached up and ran his hand through Wes's hair. "I love you too, idiot."

A laugh rumbled deep in Wes's chest. "I'm your idiot," he said placidly.

Hobbie had to kiss Wes again for that. "Yes you are," he told him between kisses. "All mine. Every single bit of you."

Wes cupped the back of Hobbie's head with one hand, deepening their kisses. "I love you," he murmured, the words tangling between his tongue and Hobbie's. "You're mine too."