The Ghost sets down outside the largest settlement on a small, mostly brownish-looking planet; the rebel fleet gives out orders, but at the moment, they're not in the business of giving out things like food. Kanan doesn't blame them for it, but it does mean heading off for supplies is a must. He could also use the chance to stretch his legs; they've been with the fleet for over a week now, and the recirculated air is starting to get to him.
This is his plan until he catches Hera looking at him; she doesn't say anything, but Kanan knows exactly what she means.
They've already made their first supply run, most of the goods packed away. Kanan and Hera catch Zeb in the kitchen; he's having some kind of argument with Chopper, but fights with droids are not something Kanan is concerned about today.
"Take Sabine and Ezra and get off this ship," Kanan orders.
"What am I supposed to do with them?" Zeb asks, frowning in suspicion.
"Play sabacc, blow up a star destroyer, I don't care," Kanan tells him. "Just leave and don't come back until I call for you."
Zeb looks confused for a moment, but then he gets it. "Got ya," Zeb says conspiratorially. "We're as good as gone."
"Don't actually blow up a star destroyer," Hera adds, just in case.
"Don't plan on running into one," Zeb says, already leaving. "Have fun."
"How long do you think?" Kanan asks Hera, speaking quietly.
"Give them five minutes," she says. "Then meet me in your room."
"Done," Kanan says, resisting the urge to reach out to her. They separate; he doesn't feel like dealing with the rest of the crew, not at the moment, so he goes up to the cockpit, watching on the indicators as the hatch opens and closes again. He lets out a sigh of relief, quickly heading back to his quarters. Hera's just a few steps behind him; she follows him in, closing the door behind them.
And then they are suddenly, finally, blissfully alone.
Some things are rote; he takes off his shoulder plate and stows his lightsaber, just as he always does. Some things are not; Hera leans against the wall, watching him, a kind of coiled energy in her, palpable even without the Force. She lets him finish, but she doesn't let him have any extra time, just puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls him towards her, holding him at arm's length.
"Let me look at you," she says, cupping his cheek, turning his face this way and that.
"I'm fine now," Kanan says dismissively, though he misses the contact when she lets him go.
"Since the last time we did this, you've been tortured," Hera points out, already sliding her hands up his stomach, skimming his shirt up with them. "You've fought the Inquisitor and a Sith lord, whatever that entails. You're going to let me check you out."
"You're not going to find much from the torture," Kanan says, not protesting as she pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. "The Inquisitor favored electricity."
Hera runs her thumb gently over a burn mark on Kanan's bicep. "I can see that."
"I've had worse," Kanan says, flinching, and Hera immediately stops, smoothing her hands down his arms instead.
"You deserve better," she says, putting her hands in his.
"Does that include you, naked?" he tries, lacing their fingers together.
Hera laughs. "Your seduction techniques need work."
Kanan lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I let them rust once I met you," he says, a little more seriously than he intends.
Hera's smile is soft and fond. "Take off your pants," she says, withdrawing her hands.
"Your seduction techniques are great," Kanan says, but he doesn't waste time, ditching the rest of his clothing as fast as he can.
"Oh please," she says, as she carefully tugs her cap off over her lekku. "You were already seduced."
"Guilty as charged," he says, watching her as she shucks her flight suit; he will never understand how she can do it so fast, but he's not going to get in her way. Naked, she sits down on the bed and pulls him in after her, laying on her back so he can stretch out over her. She puts her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.
The time they have together is so precious, so fleeting- a brush in the hallway, a smile over breakfast, an inadvisable yet satisfying tryst in the cockpit- but this is a moment to luxuriate. They kiss slowly, lingering, letting it build easily, naturally. The rest of the world can wait, because this is all that matters.
His hand finds the inside of her thigh, sliding up it gradually as they kiss. There's only so far to go, only so much that they can take before the need becomes too much. After long moments, Kanan kisses the base of her lek and says, "Let me."
Hera grins. "Please do."
The bed is really too small for this, but that isn't about to get in their way. They shift, rearranging so that Kanan is kneeling between her legs, but Kanan doesn't stop there; she laughs in surprise he lifts her halfway off the bed, putting her thighs over his shoulders. She's wet and ready and right there, and he doesn't try to stop himself, lowering his mouth to her and licking her eagerly.
In this position, she can't really get any leverage to push against him, but she can wrap her thighs around his head, which amounts to the same thing. It's exactly what he wants, to be enveloped by her, nothing at all but her, the rest of the world blocked out. He pours everything into it, driven on by the noises she makes, the feel of her body, the intoxicating smell and taste of her. He honestly doesn't know sometimes whether he does this for her or does it for himself; their interests definitely dovetail nicely here.
"Kanan, stop," Hera says suddenly, letting him go, and he pulls back slightly, putting just enough distance between them. He's just about to ask what's wrong when she speaks again. "I need you inside me. Now."
The words hit him low in his belly, a jolt of desire that he's not prepared for. It's all he can do not to drop her; he lowers her gently instead, laying her out again and covering her body with his. She hooks her legs around his waist, and then he's right there, pushing inside of her, her body hot and yielding around his. He groans, pressing his face against her shoulder, lost underneath it for a moment, all this sensation. Hera pulls him up, kissing him as he begins to thrust, her hands clutching at his back.
When she lets him go, he watches her face, mere inches apart, watches her watch him. He can't look away, can't do anything but keep moving, pushing in deep. Her mouth hangs open, her breath coming fast, but her eyes are bright, clear. He's in awe of her, even more than he usually is; he's in awe of his own luck, that this perfect, singular woman wants him this much, needs him maybe even as much as he needs her, though he doesn't know if that's really possible.
It's all too much; he doesn't know how much more he can possibly take. "Hera," he says urgently. "Hera-"
"Almost," she replies. "Just a little more, come on-"
"Like this?" he asks, breathless, trying to hold back and just barely managing it.
"Right there," she says, arching her back. "Right there, Kanan, give it to me, I'm-"
She doesn't finish her sentence, just gasps, fingernails digging in hard, and Kanan feels it, the way her body clenches his; he doesn't last another instant, just groans and follows her over, coming hard.
After long moments, he finally pulls away; she courteously moves over so that he won't collapse onto her, rearranging them again so that she can cling to him, resting her head on his chest. He holds her to him, one hand at the small of her back, the other laid over hers.
He doesn't want to say anything, doesn't want to break up with simple perfection of this moment, but something's been weighing on him, haunting him.
"They know about us," Kanan says, though he really doesn't want to. She has a right to know, and keeping it to himself could be dangerous somewhere down the line.
"I'm not shocked," Hera replies; she doesn't sound upset, just resigned.
"He thought he could get to me by threatening you," Kanan says, pushing the words out. "He said-"
"Shh," she says, pressing her fingers to his lips, smiling sadly. "You're in love with a Twi'lek. I know exactly what he said."
Kanan doesn't quite know how to feel; telling her is a relief, but he hates putting a look like that on her face. "Well, I have it on good authority that a Twi'lek is in love with me," he says, deflecting, redirecting, smoothing over it.
"No one said otherwise, love," she says, pecking him on the cheek, and he pulls her to him, kissing her properly. She tangles their legs together, getting as close as she can, not letting a fraction of an inch come between them.
"Spectre Two?" a voice is saying somewhere, as Kanan wakes up. "Come in, Spectre Two. Or Spectre One maybe? Will someone just answer? Guys?"
For a single, disorienting moment, Kanan feels as if he's been dreaming, that he'll discover he's alone. But no; there's Hera, beside him, almost falling out of bed as she grasps at the comm hanging from her discarded belt. He puts an arm around her waist, anchoring her, and waits quietly for her to answer.
Hera coughs, composing herself. "This is Spectre Two," she says, in a clipped, slightly high tone, and Kanan thinks he's probably the only person who knows she sounds different on the comm when she's naked. Out of sheer mischief, he runs a finger down the length of one lek, grinning when she bats his hand away. "Go ahead, Spectre Six."
"There you are," Ezra says, and Kanan feels a little bad at how worried he sounds. "I've been trying to raise you guys for ten minutes."
"We were repairing a comms malfunction," Hera lies. "What do you need?"
"Ze-" Ezra starts, but he catches himself. "Spectre Four said we can't come back to the ship until you call, but it's been four hours. We're worried about you."
"I told him everything was fine," Zeb cuts in. "Nothing at all to worry about. Just doing some routine maintenance."
"I know what they're doing," Sabine says smugly.
"What are you talking about?" Erza asks, sounding puzzled.
"So help me, Spectre Five-" Kanan growls.
"Relax," Sabine says. "I didn't say anything."
"So can we come back?" Ezra says.
Hera and Kanan look at each other.
"Give us another twenty minutes," Hera says. "Ghost, out."
"Twenty minutes isn't very long," Kanan says, as she tosses the comm on top of her clothing.
She swings a knee over his hips, straddling him. "Then you better get to work," she says, running her hands up his chest.
"I love the way you think," he says, and she grins at him.