The door slides open in the early hours of the morning and Jyn bolts up out of bed. Her hand goes to the blaster on the floor on instinct alone; before she can see who’s entered, Jyn has her weapon aimed at the intruder.
“Jyn, it’s me.”
Even in the near-dark of their room, Jyn recognizes her husband. “Cassian,” she breathes, dropping the blaster and wincing when it hits the floor with a thud. “What the hell took you so long?”
“Where is Lyra?” he asks, a poor attempt at deflection.
“Asleep. Because she’s a year old and it’s nighttime.”
“You are angry,” he notes, moving further into the dark space.
Jyn exhales, crossing her arms. Her eyes finally adjusting to the lack of light, she can see the weariness in Cassian’s eyes. A new scar rests just above his left eyebrow. She can make out a yellowing bruise across one of his cheeks. “I thought,” she starts, softer, “this was going to be a quick mission.”
Cassian steps closer, grabbing her hand, then answers. “My contact was…not so easy to find.”
“Are you alright?” Jyn asks, running her eyes up and down his body, looking for any signs of real damage. Cassian pulls his shirt off and she gasps at the ragged, barely-healed scar stretching from hip to navel.
He shrugs. “I am now,” he says, drawing her into his arms. Jyn can feel the rough scar tissue of his back, all the places he’s been hurt over these twenty-odd years in the rebellion.
Jyn pushes up on her toes to press a kiss to the underside of Cassian’s jaw. He sighs, hands going to the small of her back on instinct. They fit there like they have a thousand times, but a flame still rises from the spot where his fingers splay across bare skin where her shirt’s ridden up. “When did you get back, mi vida?”
“A few days ago,” Jyn replies, softly. “Lyra and I have been reconnecting, I suppose.”
A sadness colors her voice – a rebellion wastes no time on familial entanglements. “I wonder sometimes,” she adds, looking up at Cassian though her lashes, “if she forgets us.”
The few times Jyn’s had the opportunity to speak with Shara Bey – mother to mother – she’d been assured and reassured that babies are unlikely to forget their parents, so long as they come back.
“Where is this coming from, Jyn?”
“We’re away so often, in the line of danger almost all of the time. What if she forgets us and we don’t come home?”
Cassian takes a step backwards so he can meet Jyn’s eyes. “We will. Always, Jyn, I promise.”
“But you can’t promise that, Cassian! You nearly didn’t come home this time.”
“Nearly, perhaps. But I did.” He takes Jyn’s hand and leads her to the bed, where they both sit. “Do you know why?”
She shakes her head.
“Because,” Cassian continues, “I thought about you. And our daughter. I knew, no matter what, I had to make it home to the both of you, mi sol y estrellas.”
Jyn frowns. “That’s just talk, Cassian.”
He leans in then, pressing his lips to hers. Jyn knows she should pull away and tell him to sleep -- they both need sleep -- but she can’t make herself stop, not with Cassian so warm and solid and alive.
Cassian fits his hands at her waist and pulls her on the bed proper. Jyn gasps, suddenly on top of her husband, his calloused hands running underneath her nightshirt to press her close. “What’re you doing?” she murmurs as he presses a line of kisses down her throat.
“I am,” he starts, “proving my point.” As punctuation, he flips them, so Jyn’s flat on her back, staring into Cassian’s deep, tired eyes.
It’s her, this time, that kisses him. Heavier than the last time, Jyn relaxes into it and lets herself enjoy the simple pleasure of kissing the hell out of her husband. She takes his bottom lip between her teeth -- the resulting groan sets something aflame in the pit of her stomach -- and bites, just hard enough to make sure he’s really here.
He gets a knee between her legs and Jyn sucks in a sharp breath. It’s been a while for them, since they had real, honest to god sex. Both of them are on missions constantly, and whenever the two of them are home, Lyra takes up all of their attention.
Now, before sunrise, Jyn realizes just how much they both need this.
She sits up, pushing a heavy-breathing Cassian by the chest with the flat of her palm. He looks as disheveled as she feels: mussed hair, missing shirt, and very obvious erection straining against the material of his pants. Jyn reaches down to pull off her own shirt, enjoying the way Cassian’s eyes still trail down her body like she’s carved of marble -- even after countless injuries and a baby.
Cassian pulls her back into his arms and makes quick work of her bra, trailing kisses down her chest and pressing his teeth into the thin skin above her ribs. “Pants,” she starts, one hand tangled in his dark hair and the other reaching down between them, “off.” She gives him a quick squeeze, the angle making her wrist scream with pain, but it’s worth it when Cassian moans her name in the valley of her breasts.
“Yes,” he answers, pulling (reluctantly) away to fiddle with a zipper, “of course.”
Jyn takes in the scarred and marked skin of Cassian’s body. That scar across his side still concerns her, but then he’s ridding himself of underwear and reaching across the open space between them to pull her sleep pants down. He fits himself between her thighs and reaches down between them to work at her clit.
It takes less than a minute for her hips to move of their own accord, for her short nails to dig into the skin of Cassian’s shoulder. “Now,” Jyn whispers, then grasps impossibly hard at his bicep when she feels him enter her.
Cassian moves first, but it isn’t long before their hips move in tandem. He moves them so he’s on top again, his mouth right next to her ear. For a few seconds, Jyn isn’t sure is he’s groaning nonsense, but then she hears her name.
“I love you so much...I won’t -- would never,” he says, hips crashing into hers. At his words, the fire in her stomach goes white-hot. She wraps her legs firm around his waist, heels digging into the firm skin of his ass. “Always,” he says, voice breaking and hips stuttering a rhythm of their own. “Always, mi amor.”
After they come -- toghether, Jyn notes -- and clean themselves up, Jyn feels a weight lifted from her shoulders. Lying in Cassian’s arms, head on his chest, she focuses on the steady thrum of his heartbeat. When Lyra cries from her crib in the other room, Cassian presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs something about her getting some rest.
“But you just got back,” Jyn says, sitting up.
“I want to see her,” Cassian says with a smile. “I will be back.”
Watching her husband go to their daughter, Jyn thinks that maybe, just maybe, they have a shot as a real family.