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Sev really likes Captain Ordo. Ordo is calm, cool, collected. He’s an absolute badass and has managed to keep this weird young look to his features, just how he reacts to things. Sev wants to be like that, but he always just looks so angry. Everyone says it. But everyone says Ordo looks cool.
Maybe, one day, Sev will manage to ask him how he does it.
Ordo’s been on this mission with them, slogging through the muck and shooting all the clankers. Now that they’ve finished and are back on their little ship, heading to meet back up with a larger force and hitch a ride to Coruscant, even a Null looks tired.
Sev knows he looks exhausted, feels the weight of it, but Captain Ordo just looks tired.
Fixer’s in their little infirmary, just a bit beat up and with a broken arm, nothing a night in bacta won’t fix, so it’s now the terrible game of “who is Sev bunking with?”
Boss always bunks with Fixer, and Scorch and Sev bunk, but if Fixer isn’t there, well...things go a bit wonky. And they need to keep Boss from sitting up all night in the infirmary watching him bob in the bacta like a dead aiwha.
Dark, Sev. This is why they call you a psycho, he tells himself.
He’s staring at Captain Ordo, he realizes after a moment, only because he can feel Ordo’s gaze falling back on him. It’s heavy, even on top of exhaustion, and for a moment he’s afraid he did something wrong, but Ordo just tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. He’s frowning, but it’s not a glare, because his eyes aren’t narrowed, and they’re sparkling in the same way they did under the canopy when light broke through the trees and he tilted his head just right. It usually, Sev came to realize, meant he had a plan.
“Sev can bunk with me,” Ordo tells Boss.
Boss stares. “Are you sure?” he asks, surprised. Boss likes him, all of his brothers do, but they all know that most other people don’t like Sev. It always prickles at his skin.
Scorch says he doesn’t get why.
Sev thinks he’s lying.
“Of course,” Ordo says, and he actually sounds just as surprised as Boss, that Boss would be surprised.
“We can all move around when Fixer’s out of the gunk,” Scorch says.
“Nah, vod’ika, I’ll be fine without the single,” Ordo promises, not feeling the protective heat of Scorch’s words. “Let Fixer have it, don’t want to jostle his arm.”
They all nod.
Boss looks at Sev. “Do you want to show him where you guys can go, or...?”
Sev startles into motion, hopping on his toes like a cadet with stars bursting on his tongue while Ordo shoulders his pack and leads him through the ship to where he and Scorch had slept on the way to that mudball.
“Might still be messy,” he mumbles, opening the door. It’s not. He makes sure every time. But sometimes Scorch will go in and look for things and then suddenly he’ll have to do it all over again. It’s not that big of a deal during transport, but. It feels different when they’re going onto a planet. It feels like it’s better luck if there’s nothing to trip over when they get back. Nothing clinging to his skin besides his body glove.
“Believe me,” Ordo says quietly, perfectly, “you’ve never seen how my brothers keep a room.”
He smiles at Sev.
Sev’s face is burning; that’s another thing wrong with this situation: if it were Scorch, he’d never be judged for jacking off to thinking about Captain Ordo.
Sev is not jacking off to Captain Ordo while he is in the same room.
“You shoot good,” Ordo says, clapping him on the shoulder before he looks around at the bunks. The words catch in Sev’s ears and jumble around his head, but they’re not sharp and they don’t hurt.
“That’s mine,” Sev says dumbly, pointing to the bunk on the left.
Ordo tosses his pack onto the bunk on the right. “You have attached freshers, yeah? Water rations?”
They do! Yes, they do.
A water shower sounds really good right now. Something he can feel that he’s supposed to.
“Yessir.” He frowns. Wait, should he offer to give his water rations to Ordo? He’s a Null, and, well.
“Go shower,” Ordo says, and there’s a playful tone in his voice and the corners of his lips twitch up.
“Yessir.” He books it to the fresher. At least Ordo seems to be kind for now.
He showers methodically, getting rid of all the sludge and leaf litter that has somehow, inevitably, made its way into his body glove, and then scrubs some more, trying to figure out what all he might have done wrong and how to fix it, so Ordo doesn’t get mad at him. He towels off and considers his dirty body glove on the floor, then grimaces. He left a change of clothes in the room. If it were Scorch, it wouldn’t be a problem.
It’s not Scorch.
He stares at the door for a long moment, then bursts the plasma pack and pushes back into the room, going for where he’s stashed his blacks. He ignores Ordo on the other bunk, on a holocomm with someone. He even ignores him when he feels his eyes on his back.
“Hey, vod’ika,” a clone’s voice that crackles through the comm says, with serious command presence.
Sev jumps and swivels to look over at the bunk. Ordo’s covering his face with his hands, but the holo shows another clone. Familiar, with a bit longer hair and a hard set to his brow.
“Captain Maze!” he realizes, gripping the towel around his waist tighter and staring at the comm, eyes narrowed.
Maze laughs. “We’re all off duty, Sev-of-Delta-Squad.” It rolls off his tongue like water—Sev’s never admitted to anyone that he could listen to the Alpha-ARC for ages.
Sev’s ears burn. “Uh, yessir, uh.”
Maze takes pity on him with a smile. “Put on your kut and get over here. I—we—have a proposition for you.”
Sev looks at Ordo, who for once in the last half hour isn’t looking back at him. He’s still got his face buried in his hands, but the tips of his ears are just as red as Sev’s probably are.
Sev gets his pants on and comes over to the bunk. Ordo scoots over and gestures for him to sit down with him, still not looking at him. Sev should really toss his body glove into the laundry hamper for when they hit Coruscant, but. Well, off duty or not, Captain Maze is Captain Maze.
“Now, the first thing you need to know,” Maze says seriously, “is that you can say no. Ordo will clear out and sleep in the cockpit if you’re really uncomfortable.”
Sev blinks at him. “Uh...alright sir. I don’t think. I don’t think it would be that bad.”
“No, I don’t either,” Maze agrees, “but Ordo catastrophizes—.”
Really? Sev hadn’t realized that, well. No, Maze is probably overselling it. Ordo is amazing. He’d never get as bad as Sev does.
“—and so I’m letting you know for him. You with me, vod’ika?”
“Yessir.” Sev bobs his head in a nod.
Captain Maze smiles at him, and it makes him feel warm inside. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him smile. “Good. Now, Ordo usually has one of us on hand, or one of the other Nulls, if he’s really had a time with a mission. But you’ll be a bit longer back to Coruscant this time. He’ll keep, but...if you’d like to help him out, we’d appreciate it quite a bit, and we’d be on the comm with you the whole time. He’s been watching you.”
Ordo ducks his head, and his ears are bright red. “Maze,” he chastises.
“Ord’ika,” Maze replies, indulgent and amused.
Sev processes. Ordo’s been watching him. And neither of them seem to think that’s a bad thing. And...helping him out? With Captain Maze—and someone else?—on the comm.
It dawns on him that Maze is referring to something to do with sex.
Sev’s messed around plenty, but.
But Ordo’s a Null. He’s, arguably, the Null. If it usually takes another Null or. He gulps. Or Captain Maze—and maybe another Alpha?—to help him out after a mission...
“Are you, uh. Sure? Sir.” he asks.
Maze is still smiling. There’s a noise behind him that’s a bit like laughter, and then a pale woman with pale hair in rows and rows of braids and a wide nose is peaking over his shoulder. She goes wide-eyed when she must see Sev and makes a little noise from the back of her throat.
“You’re bringing him home, right Ordo?” she asks. Her voice makes the skin on his cheeks tingle.
Ordo frowns. “Only if he wants to come.”
She accepts that with a smile. “Sev, yeah? Yes, we’re sure. If Ordo likes you enough to tell us about you, and ask us if we’re okay with it, then we’re sure, and so is he.”
Sev’s read some of Fi’s romance novels, when they’ve been stuck together. He’s starting to understand why the heroines always feel faint.
“This is Besany,” Ordo finally says, pointing at her. “She’s our girlfriend.”
She’s really pretty, Sev decides. No wonder she caught two captains’ eyes. And her smile is kind.
“Hello, ma’am,” he says, nodding to her.
“None of that,” she chides him, and he lights up from doing something wrong. “You can just call me Besany. Or Bes’i.”
Besany. Bes’i. He. He can do that. He nods again.
He’ll remember.
“I...I think I want to do it,” he says, cautious, like it’s a trap.
Besany’s eyes sparkle through the comm. “Then kiss him, Sev.”
Sev turns, and Ordo’s staring with that wide-eyed look. But he’s not moving away, and when Sev leans in he melts into his atmosphere.
Ordo’s lips are chapped and bitten, but he opens them easily for Sev. Sev loops his arms around Ordo’s neck as he slips his tongue into his mouth, mapping it as Ordo’s arms go around his waist. Slowly, slowly, Ordo tips back onto the bunk, until he’s flat on his back and Sev’s caging him against the bed.
Sev’s pulse is skyrocketing. This isn’t...this isn’t sparring. But how many people can say they’ve had an Alpha or a Null under them, on their back.
It seems like an affront against nature, if it’s not one of them doing it.
But Ordo doesn’t seem to be thinking that way, not when he pulls Sev back in for another kiss. He’s squirming, under Sev, and it’s not until Sev can bear to break apart again that he realizes that Ordo’s popped the lower seal of the top of his body glove, and he’s been doing his best to get it off while Sev’s been kissing him.
He can do that. He can do that!
He skims his fingers on the bared skin, feeling Ordo shiver under him, and then pushes the hem of it up further.
“Don’t get him all the way out of the sleeves,” Maze suggests through the comm behind them, just about sending Sev out of his skin. “You can tie them together behind his back, and it’ll be tight enough he won’t be able to move his shoulders.”
Sev boggles at the instruction, but Ordo. Ordo moans. He moans and bites his lip and looks up at Sev through his eyelashes.
“He loves it,” Besany says.
Sev’s pants are tight, and Ordo seems to be having the same issue, from the hardness digging into Sev’s hip. “You want me to tie you up, Captain?” Sev asks, breathless.
“Yeah, Sev,” Ordo says, just as bad off. “I trust you.”
Shab.
Sev kisses him again, then gets him sat up so he can get the top of his body glove mostly off, pulling the sleeves down and tying the tight fabric together behind him. Somehow, Ordo’s even harder now.
Sev’s pretty sure he could hammer beskar into shape with that hard on.
“Don’t touch his cock yet, Sev,” Besany says sweetly, and Ordo whimpers and looks up at Sev through those thick lashes again. “But touch him. I got him to come with just his nipples, once.”
Ordo’s whimper is sharper, at that, and his eyes are wider, and Sev really, really wants to try it.
“I’m not sure I could last that long, Miss Besany,” Sev says, then flinches when he realizes he forgot to drop the miss.
But she doesn’t say anything about that, just laughs. “Just a bit, Sev. He can stand to wait a little longer.”
Sev brings his hands to the thick muscle of Ordo’s chest. There’s not a lot of definition, not like he was expecting, but there’s a comfortable amount of give there when Sev squeezes. He teases and tugs at the older clone’s nipples, fascinated by the noises that spill from his mouth.
“Please, Sev, gedet’ye,” Ordo begs, and he’s going to have to commit that sound to memory.
“...Okay,” he says, nodding. Lube. He’ll need lube, and a plastisheath, and it’ll probably take him a bit to open himself up.
“He keeps the supplies in the flat pocket with the embroidery on it,” Maze says helpfully.
Sev is down digging through it when there’s a puffed sound of Ordo rolling over on the bunk, and the low noise of quiet speak over the comm. When he gets back on the bed, Ordo’s on his stomach, and Besany and Maze are both making appreciative noises through the comm.
Oh. Oh he’s not.
“I’m kriffing him?” Sev asks.
“Yeah, sweetheart, you are,” Besany says, then she hits Maze over top of his head when he laughs.
“Sorry, sorry,” Maze says. “You just look so surprised. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Ordo hums next to him, eyebrows coming together in concern.
“He’s a Null,” Sev says simply. “I...” His ears heat up. “I’ve never, uh, bottomed before. So I was nervous.”
Ordo laughs, bright and kind and sharp. “Don’t worry about that with me, vod’ika. I’m only in charge if people are shooting at us.”
“And even then, that’s touch and go,” Maze mocks, but it’s not mean at all. He smiles at Sev. “If you want to try out being the one who gets a cock in you, Besany or I can get you through it.”
He blinks. “Besany?”
“I have a collection,” Besany says, manoeuvring her eyebrows up and down while Ordo muffles a noise into his shoulder.
Sev has no idea what to think about that, except for the interest that had flagged while he was collecting supplies to roar back into him. He bites his lip. “Um.”
“You can figure that out later,” Maze tells him.
“Right,” he agrees. He looks down at Ordo, who smiles softly at him.
“Just go back to what you’re doing. Where here if you need any help with him,” Besany says.
Sev goes back to touching, finding the thin, sensitive skin that makes Ordo shiver, smoothing his hands along his sides to finally pull the pants of his body glove down, slowly working it down his thighs. He’s never really gotten a chance to look at his shebs, not with those kama that the ARCs wear, but he finds it’s a really nice shebs, round and firm as he squeezes his hips.
Sev bites his lip—he has plenty of access with just the waistband a bit down his thighs, and they did say that he likes being restrained. Or, that had been what was implied.
He could be wrong. He should check, or just pull them all the way off. That would be safer.
But the biggest thing that got Ordo’s praise out in the field was when he didn’t ask about something, just took a creative shot that Sergeant Vau would have pretended not to notice—the closest thing he ever gave to approval or appreciation.
He took initiative. He...he could do that here, now. But it doesn’t feel right in the pit of Sev’s stomach.
“What’s eating you?” Ordo asks after he’s spent precious seconds staring at his shebs. He looks over his shoulder, smiling at him.
It’s a comfort.
“Would you like it? If I leave it like this?” he asks.
Ordo makes the sound again, the one he’d made when Maze suggested restraining his arms.
“Already got his number, vod’ika,” Maze says approvingly.
Sev frowns and swivels around slightly to look at the blue glow of the holo. “His number is 0-11.”
Maze chokes a moment. “Sorry, I forgot Besany put that bit of Natborn jargon in my mouth.”
“His comm number, Sev,” Besany explains, beaming at him.
Maze nods thoughtfully. “Toss him around a bit, Sev. Put him wherever you want him.”
Ordo takes a deep, shaky breath, cutting off another little moan.
Wherever he wants? Well, he’s sure Ordo’s actual partners would like to see him, better. And Sev, well.
He’s enjoying that there’s someone else there to kind of take the lead, even if the two aren’t physically in the room with them. It’s not been bad, having one on ones, but it’s been easier with people Sev knows. He’s always felt a lot more raw after the other ones, during the other ones. But not this one.
He grabs Ordo by his cropped hair—not as long as Captain Maze’s, but longer than Sev’s stubble coated head, and listens to the pleased sound the other makes. Then he carefully brings him around, a bit at an angle so he can still mash his face into the bunk sheets, but the only direction he’s got will be angled towards Besany and Maze on the holo. And Sev will be able to look at them, too.
Ordo goes lax when he lets go of his hair, a boneless kind of content.
Sev rearranges the supplies, then slips on a disposable glove and coats the fingers with lube, doing it over Ordo’s back so it drips down onto his skin instead of the sheets. That excess, he then draws down to his hole, pulling one of his cheeks back with his free hand as he rubs against it with the lube collected from his skin.
He eases one finger in, being careful with his movements as he does, and keeps his eyes on Ordo’s back and head, watching for him to tense, but he doesn’t.
Instead, Ordo, just relaxes further, the stress he’s been holding—in his neck, and his ribs, and his thighs, of all places—melts away. The only things keeping him on his knees and with his arms behind his back are the tight material of the two pieces of the body glove.
It’s interesting, and Sev can feel himself relaxing as it happens, unconsciously mimicking the release of muscles, even as he’s keeping track of all the lube and pressing more fingers in.
Half of the work, really, is done for him. All that’s left, really, is getting his insides nice and slick.
For the fun of it, he searches out the spot that always seems to make the other men he’s slept with go wild. He wonders if Besany has something similar, distantly, and decides she must right before Ordo gasps. It took a bit longer than he expected, but he suspects it’s because of how much muscle is back here.
“Kriff, Sev,” Ordo mutters, rocking back onto his fingers.
He’s not a whole different person, because he still moves the same, but it’s a bit like all of his worries and fears are gone, just from having his limbs immobilized and his shebs prodded at.
Heat rises high on Sev’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he’s so glad that holos don’t really pick up those kinds of changes, not with someone as dark as a clone or the numerous people darker. He moves his fingers a little wilder and tries not to think about how he’d like someone else fingering him, too.
He runs his hand down the slope of Ordo’s spine, leaning over him as he continues to move his hand.
He’s Sev of Delta Squad. He’s the team “psycho” and he has to be to protect his brothers. He’d rather be a wall, like Ordo, but he’s not sure where their differences lie. But they have to be there, don’t they?
And that’s why Ordo can be prone in front of him, writhing on his fingers.
Isn’t it?
Ordo groans, and Sev clicks back on his target, back out of his head.
“Come on, Sev, you’re going to drive me crazy, here,” he says, and Sev thinks it sounds like he’s teasing.
Sev really hopes he’s teasing.
“What if I want to drive you crazy?” he asks, and it comes out a bit more serious than he wanted, a bit meaner than he means it. It always happens like that, when he tries to tease back.
“Shab,” Ordo says, breathless, and buries his face in the sheet.
There’s a soft sound from the holo and Sev looks up at it.
Besany is in Maze’s lap, now, it looks like, and both of them are watching intently but moving lazily.
They’re getting off to Sev’s fingers in their—boyfriend? lover?
He doesn’t know how this works, for them.
He kind of wants to.
Instinct, he drops a kiss on the back of Ordo’s neck before he pulls back, pulls his fingers out. He strips the glove off methodically, getting all of the gunk and residue on the inside, before he opens up the plastisheath and rolls it over his cock.
Ordo squirms for a moment and, without thinking, he reaches over and slaps the round of his shebs.
He doesn’t even have time to rethink—overthink—the action, not when Ordo says, “Do that again.”
He glances up at the holo, but Maze is just looking at them over Besany’s shoulder, and, for a moment, Sev can feel lips on his shoulder.
Sev strikes again, catching his palm on the meat of Ordo’s shebs, only just overlapping with that first strike.
Ordo gasps and no matter how pleased he sounds, Sev still winces.
“Stop putting off getting karked, Ordo,” Maze scolds, voice rumbling. “You can wait until Coruscant to get your shebs red.”
Ordo whines, but he settles back into position. He looks back at Sev, lips pressed together for a flash. Not long enough for Sev to figure out if he’s imagining or not. “What do you have for me, Sev?” he asks, voice smooth and soothing and cool, like a ribbon of water.
Sev slicks his sheathed cock up, then eases the head up against Ordo’s twitching hole. “Just what any vod’s got, Captain,” he admits a bit sheepishly.
Ordo rolls his hips back again, trying to get him inside as he settles his feet against Sev’s ankles to brace himself. “Not every vod has your aim.”
Sev slides in. He ends up going faster than he’d planned—faster than he’s used to—because of the minimal resistance. Ordo’s insides still grip him nicely, but he’s got so much give.
He’s never slept with anyone who’s been this relaxed, and, when he finally bottoms out, Ordo lets out a pleased sigh.
He swipes his hands down Ordo’s sides, palming at his ribs as he adjusts to the tight heat. Clones run hot, he’s learned; most people aren’t able to be felt through a plastisheath. It just means that they’re special, in one other one. In one way no one ever expects.
“Come on Sev,” Maze encourages from the comm. “Kark him.”
Sev adjusts his hands, from where they were high on Ordo’s ribs to the bottom of his rib cage. He pulls out, not all the way or even really close, but enough to give him some room to play. He snaps his hips in, not aiming directly for that spot inside Ordo’s body. No, instead he glances it, purposefully, dragging his cock against it as he goes in.
Ordo shudders.
He pulls out again, a bit further this time, and does it again. That’s half the point of sniping, he knows. As long as the target’s hit where you need it to be, most of the time it doesn’t matter how clean the hit was. Sometimes, it is. Hostage situations. Things where you need to be quiet.
But a shot to the heart is a shot to the heart.
Glancing along that spot inside of a man can be just as good—if not better—than targeting that spot every time.
Sev scores marks into Ordo’s sides and shoulders, even up his neck, with his blunt nails, and he has the intense desire to lean down and follow the marks with his mouth. It would ruin the rhythm he’s set up, one that’s making Ordo gasp and writhe, going between beautiful wide eyes to squeezing them shut. But it could let him change things up, too.
He gives in to the desire, and the change in position lets him go longer and harder in a way that sends Ordo’s spine straight, the muscles of his torso tensing and heaving as he goes from slumped into the mattress to holding himself parallel. Sev moves his hands again, this time into the area of Ordo’s hips that had been pressed against his thighs before, holding some of his weight even as he leans back again, shifting back to the glancing, longer strokes.
He huffs as Ordo pants, as Besany and Maze kiss and bounce in the holo, then reaches further, barring one arm across his chest and hauling him up, his arms and back pressed against Sev’s front while Sev gets his fingers back on his nipples.
Ordo drops his head back, against Sev’s shoulder but more up against his neck, breathing out something that’s too breathless to be a whine.
Sev reaches up with his other hand, manoeuvring their heads into a position uncomfortable for both of them with the only satisfaction being that Sev can smash their lips together clumsily.
Ordo likes it, at least, from the moans he catches in his mouth and swallows down, saving in his heart.
“Just like that,” Ordo says against his lips, like Sev’s not abandoned any precision with this angle and is reduced to furious grinding. “Shab, just like that, Sev’ika. Karking me so good, shab I just want. Just like that, just like that.”
Sev moves his head, hooks his teeth on Ordo’s shoulder, like he’s holding on for his life, less pressure than a bite but still, he knows the indentations of his teeth are going to be there for a while.
“Good boy,” Ordo says, like a shot of lightning through Sev’s body, straight to his dick. “Good boy, you’re doing so. Good.”
Ordo cock was only barely free from the bottoms of his body glove, and when he comes is splatters across his stomach, all the way up to Sev’s arm. Sev whimpers and hooks his hips up, lets go of Ordo’s shoulder with his teeth and jams his nose against the back of his neck while he pants.
He comes like that, in one full body shudder even if his cock isn’t done shoving spend into the plastisheath. It’s the feeling that goes that hard and finishes that quickly.
Ordo is practically melted against his arms, head lolling, as Sev pulls out of him, pulls away from him.
He falls right off the bunk, once he does, nearly braining himself, and it shocks Ordo a decent amount, but he rights himself and does the self-checks for a concussion. Nothing.
From there, it’s mechanical, as he listens to Besany and Maze both chasing their own orgasms through the comm, to lay Ordo down and strip him out of his body glove pieces, vanish them and his pair of bottoms and his dirty body glove in the fresher into a laundry bin, his plastisheath going into the incinerator box along with the disposable wipes he uses to clean himself and Ordo up. By the time that’s done, Ordo is watching him quietly, less melted but still relaxed, and the other two are doing their own clean up.
Ordo sits him down on his bunk, bringing the holocomm along, and takes him through the rest of the concussion checks. Still nothing, thankfully. And then he fishes out his own spare body glove, and another pair of bottoms, and gets himself and Sev all dressed to sleep. He ignores the other bunk, instead lying down and tucking Sev against his chest.
Sev listens to soft assurances—in his ear and from the comm—about how good he did, and the drifting conversation to something he assumes is food, answers a few questions. Laughs at a few jokes that he actually understands, and they’re the only jokes said from the amount of laughter matching his own. Some he makes even get laughs out of the others.
And he falls asleep there, against Ordo’s chest.
The next morning, Ordo doesn’t really treat him any differently than he had before. He touches him a bit more, and Sev lets him, enjoying drifting in his orbit. But nothing is commented on in the galley of the ship. Nothing is commented on as they all drift through their day, check on Fixer and the meddroid.
It’s not much longer to meet up with the larger ship. Not much longer to Coruscant.
Ordo doesn’t suggest sex again, but he draws Sev into more holocalls with Besany and Maze, and when Sev attempts to disappear into the fresher to jack off he pins him to the bed and sucks him off.
It’s Sev’s first real blowjob, having a Null choke him down.
“You’re going to give me a big head,” he mutters into the pillow, Ordo slung half across his back.
Ordo smiles against his neck. “Don’t worry about it, vod’ika. Just repaying favours.”
Favours? Plural?
Sev’s pretty sure that karking him only would have counted as one.
But he doesn’t complain, too caught up in the charmed atmosphere around him. After all, once they get to Coruscant, it’s all going to vanish. It’s going to be Ordo and Maze and Besany, again.
Sev’s okay with that, because he’s been here on this ship and he’s helped out a vod and Ordo’s been teaching him little things, either purposefully or just through Sev picking them up quickly while he watches him.
The thing that makes him look younger, look less angry. Whatever it is, exactly, Sev about makes Scorch run into a door with it. They have automatic doors in the ship.
“Shab, vod, I thought you were Captain Ordo for a second there,” Scorch says cheerily. “Must just be because you’re spending so much time with him. Eventually we’ll have our psycho back, though.”
Sev’s not sure he can ever go back to before.
Delta offloads with Ordo and the Null comes with them to the barracks, but once Sev’s stored his things, Ordo fixes him with a curious look.
“Ready to go?” Ordo asks him.
“Go?”
“Besany and Maze want to meet you,” Ordo says, tilting his head. “I thought you wanted to meet them too?”
Sev stares at him for a long moment. He does want to go meet them. Besany’s been talking to him about a statistics thing that both Ordo and Maze are confused by, and Fi’s the only other one who has understood it before, but he’d rather talk about his too-loud-too-concussive music and what ‘normal’ life is like. He just...didn’t think he’d get to meet them, even though he guesses they’ve all been talking about it, now that he thinks about it. Asking him what kind of food he likes, what kind of holoflicks.
Eventually, he makes his words work, and Ordo’s not gotten tired of waiting. He’s just waiting for Sev’s answer, hasn’t assumed it. “Yeah. Should I bring anything?”
“Anything you’d want for if you end up staying overnight,” Ordo says, so Sev grabs a pair of clean body glove pieces and a go bag, his comm and a pair of civvie pants Fi threw at him one time that fit pretty well. Pops the pants on over his bottoms, leaves his armour here. Follows Ordo to the ends of the barracks and beyond, out into the flush of Coruscant.
He’s only gone out with the rest of Delta, before, or Fi if he’s really insistent, though usually Fi’ll lose interest in him after an hour or so and he can slip off, back to the barracks.
Ordo gets them a cab, makes sure Sev’s got the address memorized, and they end up in a not-quite-posh area of the planet. It’s not sticky with poverty and crime, either. It’s average—the kind of place Fi would dream about. Sev just feels out of place, until they get into the apartment building. It’s colourful inside, but not so much it hurts. Sev sticks to Ordo’s side and stares around with wide eyes.
“Apartment 670D,” Ordo tells him, and magics a key out of somewhere, unlocking the door. “Shoes off at the door.”
Inside smells good, a bunch of rich foods that make Sev breathe in deeply. There’s the low buzz of a holoflick in the background, something unobtrusive but constant.
Ordo leaves him in the entryway, disappearing into the bedroom to get out of his own armour, but he’s not alone long. Captain Maze appears quickly, smiling, and draws him further inside and sitting him on the nice, worn sofa. He’s in soft civvie clothes and his longer-than-regulation hair is tied up in a nerftail.
“Besany’s getting drinks and utensils together,” Maze says, sitting down next to him. Enough space that Sev doesn’t need to touch him if he doesn’t want to, but close enough he can reach out if he wants. And he kind of does. He doesn’t do it, because the holocomm conversations were just that. He doesn’t know how much of the distance is for his benefit, and how much is for Maze’s. He’s never been around Maze outside of briefings.
Just under the content buzz of the holoflick, he can make out mild clattering.
“Maze,” Besany suddenly hollers. “Where’s the fizz?”
“Which fizz?” Maze calls back, twisting his body over the back of the sofa. Sev turns with him, watching the same doorway he does.
Besany’s features are familiar, but they’re a bit startling to see in full colour. She’s very pale skinned, and her eyes are right on the edge of colorless, and her hair is a kind of yellow-ish white, twisted into long braids. She smiles at Sev and comes over, kissing his cheek. “Glad you’re here,” she tells him, and means it. Then she gently thwaps Maze on the forehead. “The cherry cola.”
Maze looks smug. “Back of the fridge.”
“Why?”
“You wanted me to make room for the cool dishes.”
This time, she thwaps herself in the forehead. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Mmhm.”
“I’ll have Ordo help me dig it all out.”
Sev blinks. “I can help if you want?”
She leans down again, kissing his forehead and sending shivers down his spine. “You’re the guest. And the youngest.”
Sev blinks again. “Why does that mean anything?” he asks Maze as she stalks, predator-like, back to the kitchen. It’s a bit weird, because she wasn’t walking like that earlier. And also he’s not sure what being the youngest really has to do with any of it.
Maze laughs, a kind of joyful sound, deep as some of the large bells that were run high up in special community buildings on one of the last planets Delta had a mission on. “Easy. We get to spoil you.”
“Spoil...me?” he asks. That doesn’t sound good. Spoiling something means it gets ruined.
“Pamper,” Maze corrects, like he can see the gears in Sev’s head turning. “You did us all some favours, keeping Ordo company like that, and we like you, vod’ika.”
“Oh.” It still doesn’t really make sense, but he can guess it’s a bit like a reward. His cheeks also heat at Maze just casually dropping that they like him. Most people, by this point in how much they’ve talked, have made up their mind that Sev is psy—.
The word leaves more and more of a bad taste in his mouth.
At this point, though, most people have decided they don’t like Sev.
It’s weird, that they do.
Eventually, clattering in the kitchen catches on again, and then Ordo and Besany are hauling out a lot of food, spreading it all along the low table in front of the sofa.
“If it gets too much, just tell me,” Maze says in Sev’s ear.
Sev breathes out one long sigh.
Things move, after that. Besany gives him an empty plate, then starts dishing up a number of things, explaining what they are as she does. Ingredients, cultures, spice levels, sweet levels, something she calls umami, how much she likes it. Ordo rolls his eyes at one point and Maze laughs at him, and then Ordo tells Sev that usually they don’t get this excited when Ordo comes home from a mission, so it’s just how much they like him. Eventually, he and Maze drift closer, and he’s not terribly startled when he realizes he’s jammed under Maze’s arm, eating food, with his bare feet under Ordo’s thigh, which means his legs are thrown over Besany’s lap. Though it might be more accurate to say she put them there. They all feign attention to the holoflick, but for the most part it’s just jokes that Sev understands and interesting conversation and good company.
It’s a bit like hanging out with Delta, but more charged and with less of the usual grumblings that come from growing up together.
It’s comfortable.
It makes feelings of “I don’t deserve this” crawl under Sev’s skin like ants, sharply digging into him.
Ordo’s hand lands on his ankle, thumb rubbing soft, grounding circles into the skin and it hurts, too, but it’s worth it because while his hand is there, it feels like maybe Sev belongs here.
Besany’s touch is lighter, and it doesn’t burn like Ordo’s does, through the layers of material covering his legs.
Maze settles his chin on the top of Sev’s head.
“There you go,” Besany says softly, smiling.
Sev stares at her.
She laughs lightly, mocking, but...it’s not at him. She reaches over and punches Ordo in the upper arm. “You really found someone just like you, didn’t you?”
“We’re not the same,” Ordo says, chewing on the words. “Sev understands people more.”
Sev can’t figure out who to stare at, now.
Besany snorts. “Oh I know that. And you like those action holos more. Just want more of the field in your life.” She sighs, faux-put-upon. “But you’re both a little out there. I’m not sure we’d be as good at this without practicing on you.”
Ordo’s stoic face splits into a beaming grin. He briefly squeezes Sev’s ankle before he lets go. Sev loses the warm pressure on his feet when the Null gets up and moves, crawling up over him to chastely kiss him before going boneless on top of him. Which feels. Good. It feels really good. It feels a bit like he thinks silence is supposed to.
His arms come up to loop over Ordo’s broad shoulders.
Besany’s hand is moving again, in the space between their bodies. Tension rachets up, but it’s still not that Delta tension, still not the tension that Sev is used to having with other people, outside his squad.
“What do you think?” Maze asks above his head.
Besany smiles and leans up against all of them, nice and warm and safe and soft. “Hey Sev?” she asks, lips against his cheek. “How about we all have Ordo?”
It sends a jolt of electricity down Sev’s spine, but it does hurt. It’s warm as it grounds into the others’ weights on him.
Ordo looks up at him through dark, thick lashes and it’s a familiar face as much as it’s a complete surprise.
He’s never seen another clone look at him like that. No, just a couple civvies playing clone chaser.
It looks better on their face than any civvie.
He swallows thickly. “Yeah,” he says, decides right then and there. He’s going to take this as far as they’re going to let him. The memories, at least, will make it worth it. “Yeah, I want that.”
They more or less stumble to the bedroom in a tumble of open mouths against skin and each other and warm hands slipping under clothes, stripping them up and off and discarding them. For a frighteningly comfortable moment, Sev is pressed between all three of them, bare of everything and feeling soft skin and the muscle and fat underneath with every fiber of his being.
Ordo sets his teeth against the back of Sev’s neck, a mimicry of what Sev did to him on the ship in how it’s less of a bite and more of a pressure that makes Sev groan and buck his hips into Besany’s soft thigh.
Maze fishes him out of the mess, drawing him back to the bed and sitting him on his lap so they can both watch Besany’s lips on Ordo, how kisses make him tremble and crumple in on himself, arms up around her neck as he leans into every touch. Maze smiles against Sev’s ear. “Would you rather have his ass again, or would you like to have those lips wrapped around your cock while I kark him?”
Sev’s first reaction is just a quick intake of breath, and his second is to lean back into Maze’s hands soothing over his skin.
“He’ll be in Besany, of course,” Maze says, far more conversationally.
Sev’s not sure how any of them can stand how they talk to each other, how it’s not too much for them all to handle without throwing caution to the wind. He’s not sure how he’s able to stand it right now, as Maze curls one hand around his cock, just the weight of it there. “I karked him last time,” he says dubiously. “Shouldn’t you get to, this time?”
Maze laughs, light and airy and breathy against the nape of his neck. “I’ve gotten to kark him almost every other time, vod’ika. Unless Besany wants to play with her toys.”
Sev takes a deep breath. “I want to kark him again.”
Maze nuzzles up behind Sev’s ear. It feels good, having someone so close, so willing to touch him. It sends pleasant tingles across his skin, the kind that feel like he should be moving to get them, the kind that come after a good shot. “Of course, mesh’la.”
The word in Mando’a stutters through Sev’s brain, pinging off the corners for a few moments, and he doesn’t breathe until it comes to a stop, settling in his mind to stay.
But he can’t ask about it, not when the others are finally with them on the bed, and the coordinating of positions takes precedence. Besany tugs Sev up the bed a bit, content to just sit with him before she asks if he’d like to kiss, and he decides what the hells and they make out lazily while they watch Maze open Ordo up for Sev.
It’s fascinating to watch, because Maze is much more familiar with Ordo’s body than Sev is. He can wring all sorts of noises and movements out of him. And Sev can’t see himself in Maze, in that moment.
No, he’s far more interested, almost embarrassingly so, in what Ordo is feeling.
He files it away for later as they all finally get into place, watching Ordo’s face as he finally gets to press into Besany with a groan. She’s tilted, a couple pillows under her hips and back to be comfortable while Ordo is on his hands and knees. The Null looks content when Maze kneels up by him and gets his hard cock in his mouth.
And then they’re all waiting for Sev.
It’s like running a sim with a new squad for the first time, and Sev’s got a bit of nerves with it. They disappear, though, up and vanish when Besany unwinds one leg from around Ordo’s waist just enough to prod him in the side, peeking out from under Ordo with an encouraging smile. Maze, just as steady, waits for him.
Sev guides himself into Ordo’s body, letting his eyes fall shut as he feels more than hears the moan Ordo lets out. “Kriff,” he murmurs at the feeling.
He’s got his hands on Ordo’s hips and he’s look and the tiny movements of his back muscles, and then Maze’s hand is on his face, running down to his chin then tilting it up.
He smiles. Kisses Sev.
Ordo rocks back on his cock.
“Kriff,” he says again, just as quietly. He’s a bit overwhelmed by it all, as he starts to thrust, pushing Ordo further into Besany and further on Maze’s cock. It’s a whole game of movement, like one of those ‘net reels that Fixer can watch endlessly. One movement starts another and it all runs together. Perfectly. It makes tears prick at his eyes, desperate to keep this and grateful to have it.
Maze kisses him again, reversing the movements and pushing at Ordo’s shoulders so he can breathe a bit more for a bit, then tugging Sev forward to bring it back to the original rhythm.
It’s fast switches and hard fucks, but in Sev’s head it’s all slow, and nice, and perfect in a way he’s never really gotten with sex before. He can see why they all do this together, they move so smoothly as a unit. And then Sev comes through the door and.
And they don’t falter.
They fold him in with them.
“Hey, cyar’ika,” Maze says, lips against the corner of his mouth. “Me’vaar ti gar?”
“Naas,” Sev assures him, and he can feel the wetness on his own cheeks. “Jate. Ori’jate.”
Sev feels worn out when he comes, but pleasantly so. He pulls off and tosses his plastisheath and rolls on his side to watch Maze paint Ordo’s face, and then Besany flips them over and rides Ordo into the mattress.
It’s all natural and yet, at the same time, very practiced.
“You guys move like a squad,” he finally voices, while he’s pulling on the bottoms of his body glove and Ordo’s cleaning his face. Besany’s in the fresher and Maze has headed back to the kitchen.
Ordo grins at him. “You were there too,” he reminds him, knocking their shoulders together.
Besany comes out from the fresher, taking a cap off her head as she does and dropping it onto the dresser. She’s put on a large t-shirt and a pair of leggings, but she’s now continuing to pad about in bare feet. “Shower’s free, Ordo.”
Ordo gives her a jaunty salute and drops a kiss on Sev’s cheek before heading into the fresher.
“Come on, I’m hungry,” Besany says, beaming at him and leading him back out of the bedroom, back to the main room and it’s spread of food across the low table.
Sev sits down with a grunt, sinking again into the soft sofa. Only when Besany starts picking back through the food does he feel comfortable enough doing the same. It’s all good, and he’s particularly interested in some violently red noodles, served cold. They’re very spicy, in a way he adores, and being served cold actually makes it even more amazing. Besany passes him a piece of bread, crispy on the outside and fluffy within, that’s got a sweet syrup throughout it which makes a great follow up. Maze appears with a plastic container and a spoon, dishing up some fluffy, purple-white substance onto his plate, followed quickly by a couple warm pieces of chicken, coated with breading.
“Dip them in the tubers,” he directs.
Sev blinks at the plate. “The white stuff is tubers,” he guesses.
Maze startles, then laughs. “Osik, yeah. Okay, mashed tubers and fried chicken.”
“You didn’t have to cook, we have plenty of food,” Besany says, turning around on the sofa. She still holds her plate out for some of her own.
“You didn’t get any of this and it’s my favourite,” Maze replies simply.
The fried chicken is also spicy and Sev may be a little in love. “You made this?” he asks once he’s scarfed down half a strip of chicken. “Can you teach me?”
“Of course,” Maze says, smiling. Then, to Besany, “I’m going to go get the dumplings out of the oven.”
“You did not cook dumplings,” she groans.
“No, you ordered those. They’re just warming in the oven. Along with the fried curry pastries.” He vanishes again.
“Oh, hey, grab those for me while you’re at it,” she says, beaming.
He sticks his head back out of the kitchen to roll his eyes.
“So, Sev, what do you think?” Besany asks him after some time chewing, as she puts a rice cake topped with some kind of eel on top onto his plate. “Try that.”
“Everything’s really good,” he says honestly. He pops the little cake into his mouth and groans. It’s got the umami flavour she described earlier, and a slightly fishy taste, with the rice being moist and chewy. Not his favourite, but good.
She smiles. “Good. What’s your favourite so far?”
“Noodles,” he admits quickly. Despite that, he goes back to the mashed tubers. Maybe with something else on them they’d be better? He’s not sure.
“Not Ordo?” she asks, smiling like she has a secret.
Sev chokes a bit as he swallows. “Uh. I thought we were talking about the food.”
She pats his shoulder. “I’m teasing, love.” She grabs a piece of cake that looks like it’s just a slab of chocolate. “You were really interested in him and Maze, earlier.”
He feels his face heat up and lines of prickly pain flow along his kin, and he chews mulishly on another rice-and-fish thing. It’s not as good as the eel one.
Besany curls up a bit. “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about that,” she says, and she sounds like she means it. “We all just want to figure out what all you like.” She turns from him and, with her gaze off of him, his skin stops feeling so prickly. She turns on the holoreel again, volume still on low.
“I prefer people like me,” he admits, and he means other clones, and maybe she gets it because she nods. “I’ve never, uh. It looked nice, with Maze doing it.”
She nods again, slower this time, before it must click because she turns to him again quickly, with stars practically in her eyes with how they shine. “Do you want to try it? With either me or Maze?”
Before he can answer, Maze is coming in again. “What are you voluntelling me for?” he asks, moving around the sofa with a plate of dumplings he hands to Sev.
Besany smiles sweetly as he hands her a pyramid shaped piece of fried pastry.
“Oh,” Maze says, a little startled sounding and unbelievably fond. He looks to Sev. “If you’d like, and if you’re up for it. Not necessarily now, or even today, but... I could bring you through your first time.”
Sev swallows dryly. “Uh. Yes. Sir.”
Maze laughs softly. “No sir needed, right now.”
Finally, Ordo arrives from the fresher, towel around his neck, and immediately swipes some dumplings from the plate Sev forgot he was holding. “You two never get this much food when I come back alone,” he complains, then smiles at Sev. “Special occasion, Besany ends up with leftovers in the fridge instead of just a couple bottle of beer and whatever raw ingredients Maze stores here.”
Besany slugs him in the arm. “Rude! I have food in there!”
“Besany, the only time I’ve seen food in that fridge in the last month is if I’ve left leftovers,” Maze says dryly.
She huffs and looks away. “I’ve been eating everything in one sitting! Just getting enough for me! It’s fine!”
“She’s working too much,” Ordo tells Sev with pursed lips. “Not eating enough.”
And making up for it today, Sev realizes. Well, if he can be an excuse, that’s fine. It’s good food and good company, and the other two clones stop bugging Besany about her fridge and they all go back to eating, talking shit about the holoreel playing. Besany lets him go through her copies of different ones and pick the next one. They eat about half of the food and Ordo teaches Sev how they pack it all away and get it into the fridge, along with several bottles of fizz—Sev’s favourite is the ginger-lime—and then, before Sev can think of how to excuse himself, he’s folded into the clutch of them and shuffled off to a bed with clean sheets.
He falls asleep tucked between Ordo and Maze’s chests, Besany spooned behind Ordo with one long arm tossed across both of them to cling to Maze’s sleep shirt.
It’s safe, it’s warm, it’s comfortable.
These kinds of things aren’t for Sev, right? That’s what he thinks when he wakes up, jolted out of the slow and lazy drowsing in a panic. He should have left last night, shouldn’t he have? Everyone always would rather he leave after everything, but they kept him around, but he’s still here?
Did he overstay his welcome?
Besany grumbles softly. “We told you, Ordo, he’s just like you.”
“I’m a delight,” Ordo grosses in Sev’s ear, tugging him closer. The weight of he and Maze against Sev’s body is soothing.
He ends up drowsing again, drifting between waking and sleeping, until Maze stirs to life behind him. The ARC nuzzles the back of Sev’s neck, drops a kiss there, then asks, “Breakfast?”
Sev peels out of the pile with him and follows him to the kitchen, then gets enough guts to prod him into letting him help with breakfast. Hotcakes on a skillet, chunks of chocolate arranged in the cooking batter, and slices of bird meat cut thin and cooked in thick vegetable fat. He noticed, dully, that Maze and Ordo ate like Sergeant Vau. Even when they weren’t on rations, Vau’d keep what he cooked for them down to only a few kinds of meat and barely any dairy. The mess food, on Kamino, was bland but with a wider range of sources. These things were always better tasting.
Maze must notice his pondering. “Mandalorian dietary restrictions,” he explains, “Less of a religious thing and more of a practicality thing. Birds are easier to travel with, vegetable fats easier to keep. Those kinds of things. And, well.” He grins apologetically. “After you get used to eating like that, and making it good, nothing else really tastes as good.”
“No,” Sev agrees, frowning. “No, I guess they don’t.” He’d never thought about the training trips as anything but cutting down on what they were eating, controlling it perfectly. But, he supposes, Sergeant Vau just ate like that.
“Everything we ate last night, for the most part, is cinyc. ‘Clean food’ type,” Maze continues. “Bajir Fett taught us. He pretty much ate like this all his life. I got Ordo into it, really, and Besany puts up with us.”
Speaking of the woman, she trundles out of the bedroom and attaches herself to Maze’s back. “Hot cakes?” she asks dubiously.
“Yes.”
“And your weird bird bacon?”
“Yes.”
She snuffles. “I love your cooking,” she finally says with a pleased sigh. “Marry me.”
Sev stares at her. Maze just laughs.
“We already all agreed—after the war,” he says pleasantly. He glances at Sev and smiles. “Though who knows what might change.”
With those words that Sev can’t really parse, Ordo appears, wrapped in a blanket still. “Jate,” he sighs. “Your ability to cook makes me so happy.”
“You are the one that bakes,” Maze retorts. “I want a cake soon.”
“Elek, elek, I’ll do it,” Ordo gripes, then tugs Sev away from the stove to sit down at the small table in the kitchen. With a genuine smile and a sneaking glint in his eye, he says, “We hope you’ve liked it here Sev.”
Sev’s heart drops. This is it.
“We want you to know that you can come back whenever you want,” are Ordo’s next words. Unexpected. So very unexpected.
Besany detaches from Maze and swans over to a little desk with lots of nooks and crannies at the end of the room and rifles through a drawer, coming out with a key which she sets on the table and slides towards him. “Here. This is for you. We’ll get you a keychain, something personal. Maze keeps Ordo’s in the office, and he can keep yours too. What’s the thing there, Ordo?”
“Whoever is on duty, you just go to them and ask them for the envelope with your name on it, and the key’s in there,” Ordo explains. He looks at Sev, watches him carefully. “Only if you want to, though.”
Sev swallows around the lump in his throat. “Really?” he asks, and his voice comes out rough.
Maze sets plates down around the little table. “Of course, Sev,” he says softly. “We don’t do this for everyone we bring home. And, honestly...”
“We don’t bring that many people home,” Besany agrees. “Sometimes Corr will come over, but he and Mereel are always busy these days.” Ordo drops a noisy kiss on her cheek. “But we’d like to see how this goes, with the four of us...and, hey, at the very least, you can consider us your friends.”
Sev looks down at the key. He feels like he’s burning up, on fire all over. But it’s a good burn, especially in his chest. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’d...I like that. I want that. At least friends, and.” He hasn’t really cried since he was a ten. That’s over five years ago. He hasn’t really cried.
Maze squeezes his hand.
“Thank you,” he finally says, around the tears in his voice.
“No problem,” Besany assures him.
“This, I think, is the least of it for us,” Ordo agrees.
Maze drops a kiss on his buzzed head. “Come on, no sense crying on an empty stomach.”
Sev laughs.