Beautifully Written!! I Loved Every Bit Of This With My Whole Heart!!

Beautifully written!! I loved every bit of this with my whole heart!!

💛💙💛

Insomnia

Rating: This is still an 18+ blog

Pairing: Niner Skirata x fem!reader

Wordcount: 8k

Warnings: Pure fluff, a little hurt/comfort, pining, awkwardness, touch-starved Niner, making out, petting

A/N: Why did it take me so long to write for my favorite commando?! Reader is described with hair

Summary: The moment Jaller Obrim introduces you to Skirata's secret anti-terror unit, Niner feels undeniably attacted to you... and still tries to act against concealed desires. He has to learn that the more he squelch his feeling he only hurts himself.

“You do know what black ops are, right?” Skirata didn't shout. But he was about to snap. Niner could feel it, see it. He clutched the backrest of a chair to keep his hands from doing something he might regret. His opponent wasn’t impressed in the slightest and only raised a brow.

“We keep what we do here secret for a reason, from the public, the GAR or the CSF... that means the fewer people in the know, the better. I don’t need another security risk or a possible leak,” he elaborated, his eyes switching between Obrim and you. “I am sorry ma’am, it’s nothing personal.”

You only nodded wordlessly in response and gave him a thumbs up. And Niner, just as the other men from Omega and Delta squad, attended the argument in silence. All he could see was you. He just didn’t know if it was shock, curiosity or something else that held him captive in your presence.

“Knock it off, Kal!” Captain Obrim eventually said and moved a step closer towards Skirata. Niner felt Ordo immediately tense, ready to jump in if things got out of hand. “I already told you that I suffer from temporary deafness and my blindness even spread from one eye to two eyes by now. But,” he made a short pause to inhale, Niner wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or if he just needed to calm himself, “even I can’t pretend it’s nothing out of the ordinary for a jedi and two Republic Commandos to go haywire and have a speeder chase through the lower levels. I am no warlock who can let the debris and a few corpses vanish in plain view.”

Skirata didn’t answer this time, Fi’s and Sev’s expressions spoke volumes. A sense of guilt hung in the air. He didn’t need to be Bardan to perceive it.

“I am still willing to try, Kal. Because I like you and I know it’s for a good thing. I don’t want any more of your men getting killed by terrorist attacks. And that’s why she’s here. She’s one of my most capable officers, and whenever you or your boys will get into shit, she’ll be there to make sure that I am the first to know the news and get you out of it. Understood?”

Even Skirata couldn’t oppose this logic, and that’s how you stayed.

It’s been three days since then.

Three long days… and nights… in which he tried to perform at his best and dissemble his nervousness. Back on Qiilura a few months ago, he had a similar feeling when he met Etain for the first time. But this due to the fact that she was the first woman ever he had to work with and there was this unmistakable effect she had on Dar, still has, and he didn’t know what to expect. The nervousness he holds around you is of a different kind, very unfamiliar. And uncertainty he finds unpleasant to say the least.

At first he thought it was banthashit. His trepidation only because he’s not used to operating on Coruscant among civilians and without his armor to protect him. Too many vague factors for him to feel safe and confident. Yet as the sergeant of an elite squad he soon adapted to the circumstances… with one exception. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t act normal around you. Each time you entered the room, he held his breath. At mealtimes he found himself staring at you from the corner of his eyes. Whenever he came back from his sentry duty and would find you in conversation with one of the other boys, smiling and laughing, he frowned and wondered where this tight feeling in his chest came from. But did he sit down and join the conversation? No. He remained mostly silent and went for a hot shower. Except this morning. Sergeant Kal was there too and asked him to stay. And Niner listened to him as he told you about Mandalorian culture, training on Kamino and his efforts to bring out the best in his sons by all available means.

“I made clear to them that their squad is the only beacon they can and have to rely on, anytime - anywhere. It's my fault that they have a hard time socializing. But they are good boys.” Atin huffed, Darman grinned and Niner felt strangely called out, but then flushed brightly as you looked straight at him with an enticing smile.

"Socialising wasn’t part of our job description,” Fi quipped, and again Niner was amazed about his skills to take the tension out of almost every situation.

“Without a doubt.”

Hm? Were you responding to Fi's comment… or Kal's? It was getting hot in here.

Atin huffed again, Niner glared at him and Etain’s mouth escaped a silent ‘Oh’.

A few hours later, he’s now in his room. Alone. A pencil in his hand and a sheet of flimsi on his knees. He had a hot shower before. And while the droplets trickled down on his body, calming and lulling him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you… the white tunic you wore… water…

- knock knock -

The sound startles him, so much he almost drops the pencil.

“Knock, knock,” Fi repeats his knocking verbally. “Open up, dear sergeant, your favorite brother is here and has brought gifts for you!”

“I’m sleeping,” Niner replies.

“Nice try.” Fi all of a sudden appears in the room. Clones aren’t used to the term ‘privacy’ very much.

“That’d only be true if you were Dar.” He smirks. And then raises his brow quizzically as Niner lets the flimsi disappear behind his back. “What are you doin’?”

“Where’s my gift?” He counters, without deferring to his question at all. And he feels more annoyed about the disturbance than he’d like to admit. The sooner Fi leaves him, the sooner he can go back on doing what he’s doing.

“Kal skipped your watch. He and Jusik take over the next shift. You can take a rest - for brooding.”

Niner grows stiff as Fi walks over and sits down on the bed next to him. It’s probably not fair to feel this way, as under normal circumstances, Niner is the happiest when he’s surrounded by his brothers. How should Fi know he’s considered a disturbance right now? He offers him a chocolate bar with nuts and Niner’s fast to tear it from his hand. There’s always time for candy.

“Are you okay, ner vod?” Fi asks and scrutinizes him. At his nod he gives an incredulous snort.

“Who are you trying to fool, Niner?”

And with reversed roles, the two clones then sit side by side, Fi convincing him that there’s nothing he would need to hide from his brothers and they’ll be here for him and having his back in whatever situation. And it is Niner who’s trying to shake it off as if it's nothing. He can’t tell. Not to Fi. As he’s already the one who suffers most of being denied a normal life and desires they were unable to pursue. Then again, it probably makes him the one to understand him best.

“Want to see what I was trying to hide?”

“Bet your shebs on it!” Fi says and nudges his shoulder with his own.

"Please don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

His brother’s eyebrows rise and he gives him a mock offended look. Truth to be told, he’s not even sure why he wants to keep this a secret at all. Because… there’s the chance for the wrong people to find out. Now.. if they were on a mission somewhere on a backwater planet… he wouldn’t hesitate for even a second to tell his squad mates. Then again… if they were on a backwater planet, he wouldn’t be in this misery. He brings out the flimsi and wordlessly hands it over to Fi.

A drawing… of a woman’s shape. From her jawline, across her neck and collarbone, down to her waist. A white tunic has slid off her shoulder and sticks wet to her skin, revealing her curves. A hardened nipple peeking through the sheer fabric. No face. No features to give indications about who she is. Just a few freckles covered with droplets of water.

“Wow. You really studied her carefully, didn't you?”

Niner catches his breath. “How do you…?” He’s scared. Embarrassed. Something in between. He thought the picture would be vague enough to not give a hint on who’s the one in it. Now he might as well have written a name on it. Your name.

“It’s the curve of her jawline,” Fi answers. “And those little marks.”

Unintentionally, Niner gnashes his teeth. He always does when he gets upset. But why does the fact that Fi recognizes your silhouette even makes him uncomfortable? Fi was about to point at the spot concerned but as soon as he senses his distress, he pulls back and just keeps looking at the picture. They don’t need words to understand each other.

“Why don’t you just ask her out on a date? Have some drinks in Quibbu’s bar during your downtime.”

“No.”

“Just no?”

“No. As in: No I can’t, because we are on a mission and I need to concentrate on the task and keep an eye on you all. And when we’re done here, we will…”

“Blah, blah, blah…. Any other excuses?” Fi won’t take it.

Excuse is the right word. Or not? There are probably a million reasons why it would be a bad idea to delve into something that isn’t supposed to last. He’s not supposed to last. And he can’t afford to be distracted. Darman already is with Etain around. And he’s seen the tender bonds blooming between Atin and Laseema. He sees the effects their excursions to a romantic attachment have on Fi, the one left without a love interest. The pain he’s going through whenever he watches the couples in the streets and thinks that no one would notice. But Niner does notice. Anytime. And he won’t leave his brother alone with his suffering.

“It’s a long shot.” Still it hurts to say it out loud. “We are probably already dead by tomorrow.”

Fi inhales deeply. “Even more reason to take the chance when it presents itself to you, di’kut.”

“Then why don’t you take the chance?”

“Because… it’s not me she observes when she thinks no one’s looking.”

Force, it’s already late again!

After all those years in the CSF, you’re used to working shifts. Your sleeping routine would allow you to fall asleep almost anywhere at any time. A habit you obviously share with Darman as you found out during the last days. But ever since you joined Kal Skirata’s little undercover anti-terror unit at Jaller’s request, sleep just won’t come to you. And it’s definitely not because of the stress coming with the task, or the awareness that you practically sleep on top of explosives. So many that you could blast half of the district into the next galaxy. No, you’re used to the danger and they seem to know what they are doing. Ordo, the captain, eludes a confidence second to none, and the eight clone commandos are able to work together like the well-oiled gearbox of a podracer. Even though you heard that Delta and Omega weren’t too fond of each other recently. Whatever the reason is, it obviously has no effect on their commitment.

But it’s not the clones that keep you awake either. At least not all of them. Although you had admittedly trouble maintaining your composure when you first saw them. They almost do look alike. The same thick black hair with the crewcut, the same beautiful golden-brown eyes, the same handsome faces and charming smiles. Maybe except Sev, but you’re sure he’d be just as charming if none of the others would witness. The same broad and tall frames, imposing stances. And then there are the things that make them special… unique. Like the little quirks they all have. Each their own. The little scars and marks. The different ways they carry themselves… and it’s those little differences that make you hold your breath everytime you see him: Niner. RC-1309.

Who the fuck thought, that giving them numbers and designations instead of names would be a smart move? And why the fuck do some of them chose a name still connected to that number? Loyalty maybe? Or just because they didn’t know better? It still is telling, you think.

Nevertheless, it suits him. Niner. You catch yourself whispering his name when you’re alone in the fresher, enjoying how it falls off your tongue. Niner. He seems to be a little more tense than the rest but his tension falls off the moment you all gather around the table at mealtimes and he’s surrounded by his brothers and he sees that everyone’s safe. When he smiles, actually he does it quite often but unconsciously, he has those little wrinkles around his eyes and looks much younger than he gives himself. He makes fun of Ordo for refusing to eat the so-called meat at Quibbu’s and he keeps Omega Squad back on track each new day. He’s diligent and dutiful, serious… but with that peculiar, subtle charme. And yet, he also holds that touch of authority that gives you shivers… in the best of ways. Niner. Trooper to the core. But it also keeps you from flirting with him… much to your regret. And that’s why you can’t sleep anymore. Because he refuses to leave your thoughts for even a second, all those ‘what ifs’ and ‘why not’.

You had a pretty good day today. At first you joined Fi and Sev during their sentry duty, Kal thought it best if they wouldn’t team up with Jusik again. Mereel showed up, one of Ordo’s Null-ARC brothers, and his mere presence somehow lifted the spirits of the whole motley crew: Clones, Jedi, Mandos and you. Then you had dinner with most of them at Quibbu's, fighting side by side against the threats of indefinable food. After that you met Jaller to report to him. He told you some news from the headquarters and your department which he thought would be useful for Skirata to know. He asked you how you feel in your temporary companionship and as you blushed, he gave you a knowing smile. “I thought so,” he said. In the evening you sat down in the common space with Etain, Bardan and Kal and time flew by as you were talking. Kal talked about Kamino, the Jedi about their duty in the order and you about your life in the CSF. Each of you learned something new that evening. Etain was the first to pretend to go sleeping as soon as Darman was back at the accommodation. Mh-hmmm. Bardan left shortly after.

As only Kal and you remained, he then said that he’s going to sleep too. You watched as he didn’t get up but made himself comfortable in an armchair and you asked him why he wouldn’t go to his room.

“Ad’ika, the day I met those incredible boys I made a vow to protect them whatever may come. And that I would not rest until I can provide them a normal life. These men have only half of our lifetime - at best. And as long as this injustice isn’t set right, the least I can do is to abstain from convenience to remind myself each day that my work isn’t done yet.”

You took his hand in yours and fought tears. And then you remained seated on the couch to keep him company, saying it was the least you could do to show your appreciation for him and his sons. He winked at you and said that there would be something else you could do, but he didn’t elaborate further and you didn’t ask.

As night fell and the top floor went dark and quiet, you allowed your tears to run down your cheeks. The realization that the clones, Niner, age twice as fast took you off-guard. Only half a life. And the lifetime they have is filled with clashes, devastation, pain and grief. It’s making their smiles even more special.

When your tears have dried and your silent sobs subsided, you lose yourself in daydreams about him once more. All those things you could do to him to make him happy and feel good. You dream about him seducing you, whispering sweet praise in your ear as he savors his time with you. You know it won’t happen. For one thing because he never even showed a sign that he’d be interested in such things at all or you in particular, and for another you don’t know if you’d make his life even more unbearable for him. He might suffer with the thought of what life could hold for him while he’s jammed in a shithole somewhere in the galaxy, his DC at the ready and some seppies in its crosshair.

Still, you want him. You want all of him, and not only your fantasies about him. Forever and not just in those few days left until their mission on Coruscant is accomplished. You want to fill his emptiness in return. You know it won’t happen…

‘Stay with me,’ your mind speaks. You won’t ever voice these words.

Suddenly you hear a door opening, followed by a soft footfall. And not a moment later Niner of all people is standing in the rec room. Somehow you feel caught red-handed, you just have no idea why. It’s not that he’s Jusik and can sense your emotional state let alone your thoughts.

“Hi,” you mouth, not catching the way he subtly tenses when he sees you sitting there.

“You’re still awake?” His voice is barely more than a whisper but in the silence of the top floor you hear him as if he’d breathe the words right next to your ear. For a split second a mental picture flashes up in front of your eyes. It almost makes you gasp.

“I could ask you the same question - if it was one.”

Even while you are talking, he walks over to the armchair Skirata chose as his sleeping place and then covers his sergeant with a warm blanket. The older man doesn’t wake up or maybe he just feigns sleep to not fuel Niner’s obvious concern. This small and yet so significant gesture in the middle of the night tells you so much about this particular clone’s nature who usually hides behind a wall of silence in the daytime.

“Insomnia. I got used to it by now,” he eventually answers and runs one hand through the dark hair, mussing up the black strands. He’s wearing his red fatigues and even in darkness the way the smooth fabric emphasizes his toned body makes your cheeks prickle with heat. You doubt that he even has a clue of how flustered and thrilled he leaves you, every time he comes your way. If only your expression doesn’t betray your thoughts. But then again it’s dark.

“Just because you are used to it doesn’t make it less serious.”

He only smiles. You watch as Niner walks back to his room. But before he vanishes from sight he stops dead in his tracks, turns around, and leans against the wall with one shoulder. As he crosses his arms in front of his chest, his shirt rucks up just a little and… Ohhhh… damn! That elastic waistband sits low on his hips.

“You didn’t tell me why you are still awake yet,” he chides you, but his voice is still so incredibly soft.

‘It’s because of you.’ But you are not brave enough to tell him the truth. Instead you hear yourself say with a chuckle: “I am not used to situations like that. Trapped in a hotel amidst strangers and not knowing how this is going to turn out for me.”

“Fair enough,” he answers and if you thought that he would leave you now, he surprises you again.

“Is… there anything I can do to make you feel better?” There’s a short pause in his speaking.

You know he doesn’t mean it in that way. He probably is just kind and his sergeant nature shines through like it did moments ago when he cared about the sleeping Skirata. But you are so surprised by his question that you don’t know what to answer and so you just shrug and shake your head awkwardly. It makes him smile defeatedly.

“Okay. Let me know if there’s something I can do. I don’t want you to consider us strangers.” He pushes away from the wall, ready to turn around.

“Niner?”

“Hm?”

“Would you mind if I stay awake with you?”

In the following silence you hear him swallow and your fast beating heart. You didn’t mean it that way. Just… You don’t know what you meant when you said it. Well, you do. You do know that you don’t want to miss the chance of finally talking to him more than just a few words and without so many of his brothers and commanding officers being around and listening. It takes some seconds until he finds his voice.

“Not at all!” He sounds breathless. “But we shouldn’t stay here.”

You try to ignore the burst of warmth in your chest as he invites you to come with him with a tilt of his head - and what it implies. Instead, you nod, slowly allowing yourself to raise and as he guides you to his room, you follow on wobbly legs.

For someone usually so reasonable and considerate, Niner is pretty surprised about himself and that he had this haphazard plan to take you to his room. It wasn’t even a plan, he just followed an intuition. He turns on the light on the nightstand, bathing the apartment in warm, dim light. Now he’s confronted with the fact that there’s just his bed as a sitting accommodation because the only chair is occupied with the neatly piled-up parts of his armor. The black undersuit, freshly laundered, hung out in front of the window to dry. His deece rests on the desk, ready for action. At least the meaningful flimsi with the drawing is stored safely in the desk drawer. It's one thing that Fi knows about his secret, but if it were you… that’s another story.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he suggests, pointing almost embarrassedly at his bed. Oh great, there couldn’t be a more intimate spot to invite you and then.. uhm.. join you. He should probably find another place for his armor and then take a seat on the chair. Just to be safe.

Even before he starts to rearrange the plating you already sit down at the edge of the lower end of his bed, leaving him enough room to join you without being too close.

“Don’t you dare sit on that chair, Niner. It’s your room and you should make yourself comfortable. If it has to be one of us sitting on the chair it would be me… not you.”

He tilts his head and then a lovely smile graces his face, one that you haven’t seen on him yet. Much more amused, confident and mystified than ever. Much more enticing…

“Did you just threaten me, mesh’la?”

His smile doesn't fail to have its effect on you, his voice even less. “Uhmm.. of course not. I wouldn’t be dreaming of,” you smile sheepishly back at him.

“Of course not. You would have to sleep for that,” Niner says and makes your pulse almost hitting the ceiling with just one sentence. You only hope he can’t hear it as he eventually sits down on the bed next to you. Your dreams would be far from threatening him anyway. Does he even guess?

For a moment it’s silent as there’s nothing clever to say. And like two spellbound idiots, neither of you seems to be able to look away from the other. Your mouth feels dry like the desert on Tatooine, and when you wet your lips with your tongue, his gaze drops for a split second. It’s just so brief that you wonder if you just imagined it.

This isn’t supposed to feel like this! He shouldn’t feel the way he does right now… but just because he knows what he’s made for or what he’s clearly not made for, he can’t detain his body from reacting the way it does to your presence. And once again he misses his armor, though this time for another reason. However, there’s this sense of guilt he can’t get rid of. No matter what Fi says. His squads - both squads - Lambda during the training on Kamino was his family for years, and he still loves them dearly, misses them since the day on Geonosis. Has it been his fault that they are gone? Omega squad - Fi, Dar and Atin - hell, he does belong with them, wholeheartedly. He won’t let anything happen to them. Not again. They depend on him like he depends on them. But there’s this urge to be with you right now. To tie bonds… Would it be a betrayal to his brothers?

“Well, what shall we do now?” He asks, words coming out deeper in his throat than he actually intends to. It surprises him. “I am not used to…” he pauses, as he tries to phrase his thoughts. “Actually, I have never been that close to a woman before. As long as you don’t count the Kaminoans.”

“I figured as much.” Another awkward seconds of silence before you add: “Hm.. what do you usually do when you’re up at night?”

Ohhh… that… he definitely can’t tell you. A picture of himself flashes up in front of his mind’s eye and he blushes against his will. How many times have your name fallen from his lips in an inaudible moan? “Ugh… that’s classified,” he coughs, bewildered how fast that white lie slips off his tongue, angry at himself that he didn’t handle the situation more aloof. What would Fi have said instead? At least you grant him the favor by not giving any suggestive remarks. Only the sweetest smile.

“How about we just talk a while then, hm?” You ask, chewing on your bottom lip. All he can think of for a second is what if it would be him nibbling on your bottom lip. Get ahold of yourself!

“Sounds good.”

And then the two of you talk for almost an hour. The hushed conversation flows so easily, despite the awkwardness at its very beginnings. Despite the graveness of your topics. You learn about the physical pain in the growth tanks and the mental strain of flash training. But you also learn about ties between clone brothers, stronger than anything you ever could think of. And it’s making you laugh as loud as you dare in the middle of the night. Niner learns about ludicrous laws and regulations on Coruscant, your daily work and about the nightmare that is the lower levels. But also what it means to enjoy life with friends in one of the pavement cafés or to just a day off in a spa or the botanic garden under the skydome. It’s making him wish…

And all the while during the convo, both of you get closer and closer, to the point that he’s stretched out on his bed, leaning against the propped up cushion on the wall and you next to him. Shoulders touching, legs brushing against one another. Having him this close feels so good, so natural… until you get aware of it. The warmth he radiates seeps into your every cell. His scent - the blend of soap, sweat and pure Niner - appeals to your senses. Stars you need to calm down.

Eventually the conversation approaches this mission, the surveillance and the constraint to kill time as a consequence thereof.

“Actually it’s not much different from our usual strategy,” he responds to your question if it’s not boring for him to be trapped in that accommodation with not much to do besides analyzing dynamic data. “Only the parameters vary.”

“I thought you do extractions or sabotage missions?”

“Oh we do. But we still can’t just run headlong behind enemy’s lines or attack the CIS’s positions without first getting a comprehensive picture of the situation.”

“Isn’t that the job for clone intelligence?”

“Pfft…” Niner gives a dismissive sound, rolling his eyes. “If I’d rely on their information, we’d be already dead by now.”

Your gaze involuntarily flickers to the wall, towards the direction Ordo and Mereel are presumably sleeping, and he hastily adds that he doesn’t talk about them. The Nulls are outstanding in what they do, but they can’t be all-pervasive. Even though Ordo tries.

“Sometimes, when we locate our target, we spend hours motionless on a look-out til it's the apt moment to strike.”

At least it’s certainly safer than being in the line of fire, still it sounds less exciting as you thought a commando’s life would be. You don’t complain though… katarn or not. You don’t like the thought of Niner being trapped in heavy clashes. When you question if they don’t get bored, he chuckles.

“Usually not. There’s always plenty to discuss with my brothers.” Gossip. Fears… Desires. “But nine times out of ten my back is killing me.”

An extremely trained soldier, and still he has to suffer the most ordinary ailment due to all the strains of war. You wonder how ‘ordinary’ people would deal with the circumstances. People who would have been given the opportunity to decide whether they want to fight or not.

“Poor boy,” you appease him with a smile, and curse yourself for making it sound possibly gleeful. You mean it. You do feel sorry for him and you hope he knows. His expression tells you that much. But then he resumes speaking, thus stealing the air from your lungs.

“Sometimes I wish the kaminiise had left out most of the sensory perception altogether. Given all the things they coded out of our DNA, that wouldn’t have made things worse.”

His words are downright agonizing. All the injustices cast to the clones: the denial of any individuality, a future, Force knows even hope itself… all the years in which they never had the choice of what they wanted to do with their lives. And they were programmed to be loyal and diligent, drilled to obedience and ultimately influenced by the war to the point that they now even deny themselves these rights, or even basic instincts.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Your smile falters slightly as you look at him, but at least you manage not to stare open-mouthed at him. While you wait for him to speak, you listen to his heartbeat, steady but rapid. Something’s changing. Hanging in the air between you.

He turns to look at you, so that he’s lying on his right side, your faces only inches apart. And there it is again, the spellbound gaze, challenging, laced with confidence, full of contrasts. Just as Niner.

“I am.”

“But you would miss out on all the soothing aspects of perception.”

Are you… implying what he thinks you do? Fierfek, indulgence has never been more tempting, seduction never took such a gorgeous shape. It's awing. Ohhh Niner, hold strong… and yet he needs you to be with him right now.

“There’s not much. Isn’t it?” He rasps, exactly aware of what he’s about to conjure.

The warmth of your expression causes a strange, soft feeling in his chest. He is smitten. No. He has fallen for you since the moment he saw you and his emotions got more and more profound with every day in your orbit. The more he denies, the more he’s going to hurt himself. Now he knows what Dar was afraid of on Quiilura.

Your body betrays you, melting with just his proximity and the warm, husky cadence of his voice. And, stars, there’s no denying the tingling sensation down deep in your core.

“What about touch?”

Niner swallows thickly, a gasp caught in his throat. His experiences in terms of touch are basically narrowed down to Fi examining him for injuries on the battlefield, Kal’buir ruffling his hair, and himself… uhm… There’s this long moment of silence in which he considers his words. Niner needs to know how far he can go until his heart races. Until desire becomes so strong it’s almost painful. You have this effect on him… he knows that and he doesn’t want to change a thing.

“There are not many occasions for me to be touched anyway,” he says to you truthfully, something sincere and tender in the way he looks at you. Again, the truth he leaves out is what he hopes you’ll still understand. It feels like he’s on fire at that point, blazing under your closeness.

As you speak, your voice sounds almost innocent. And yet the question isn’t at all. “Would you want me to touch you?”

Your words are too much for him to handle any longer. Fierfek, he’s so turned on, reached the point of no return. And he looks at you with darkening eyes, ever so slowly drags his pleading gaze down your body to where your hand rests in your lap. You blush and blink softly at him, shattering the tension and doubts that Niner has felt on his shoulders.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again they shimmer with certainty. “Yes. Please. If you want to,” he confesses, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I do.”

You carefully reach out your hand, letting your fingertips ghost over his neckline, not touching him just yet but he can already feel the warmth of your hand, the anticipation prickling on his skin. His heart skips in his chest, both of you trying to maintain composure. And then… finally… you touch him.

A strangled sound gets caught in his throat as you slowly brush over the ridge of his collarbone, the particularly sensitive spot just above. He shudders under the caress long craved for, and exhales the breath he was holding.

“So… Do you like it?” You whisper, the tips of your fingers softly dragging along the curve of his neck and across the edge of his jawline. The soft grating noise as you stoke across his five o’clock shadow, the only sound to be heard in the room. You trace his cheek bones and brush over his lips, leaving a trail of fire wherever you touch.

Hmmm…. It feels so, so good. It’s almost overwhelming, the spark of heat that singes his nerves, and he can’t find his voice underneath all the flames engulfing him. Instead he’s nodding, his eyes glazed with lust and his mind clouded with need, he’s catching your hand with his, ever so slowly leading it down his torso to the hem of his shirt. He wants so much more of that gorgeous sensation. ‘Give me more,’ his silence pleads.

Tuning your head, you watch him intently as your fingers grab the smooth fabric hugging his waist to push it up, up and further up. You don't miss the way his breath hitches as you bare his lower abdomen and your fingertips skim over the feverishly hot skin, but his eyes burn with fervor. Suddenly, you become aware of the dampness that has pooled between your legs by now. All he had to do was to breathe a few words. And oh the thrill that you’re about to do what you longed for since you met him. Then you gently splay your fingers and rest your hand on his firm abs. It’s not only him sighing quietly and your fingers tremble as you gradually slide your hand higher, trace the ridges on his stomach and the crevice leading up his torso, spread out across the sturdy curve of his chest and feel his heart beat in a frenzy beneath your palm. He shudders as you butterfly his pecs. His red tunic is rucked up so much that his upper body is practically exposed. Your gaze drops to the tan skin.

“Stars, Niner! The dreams I had about this… they didn’t even come close.”

The words leave your mouth before you even consider them properly, but they are enough to dissolve any shred of self-composure he thought he had. He grasps your face, digging his fingers in your hair at your nape, and pulling you flush against him. Niner kisses you like he’s wanted to do it for a lifetime, like you’re the air he breathes. You gasp at the sensation as your clothed body presses against his only covered by a thin layer of fabric. In the heat of the moment, your thigh brushes against the bulge that has tented his pants and it's making him moan, the sound getting lost in your opened mouth. Your hands scrabble to find purchase in his tunic, struggling to anchor yourself.

Whenever you daydreamed about kissing him, you imagined it to be kind of soft and tentative. Testing the waters. But this… this is desperate. And better than any imagination could ever be. His hands start to travel across your shape, your neck, your arms, the curve of your ribcage. Curious and eager, but never too brazen. Hands that are used to handle a DC and take out any menace in an instant, are so soft and so gentle on you. Desperate and tender alike. Inexperienced, but passionate and loving. And so is his kiss. The contrast is making you dizzy.

After what feels like eternity, Niner eventually pulls his mouth away to look at you. For a split second he is afraid that he went too far and now needs to apologize. And about the same amount of time he curses himself for giving in to his desires and getting weak. Losing control. But both thoughts dissolve the moment he feels you chasing after his lips. He chuckles and nibbles at your bottom lip as you whimper in regret.

“Can I ask you something… selfish?” He wants to know. His brown eyes flick over to look at you through his lashes. Still breathless and not trusting your voice right now you only nod in response, prompting him to ask whatever he wants to know.

“May I take off your tunic?” Osik! Why does he suddenly feel shy after kissing you so fiercely? “I promise it won’t be more. I… I just need to look at you and… feel you… c-closer.”

“Yes, Niner. Yes you may,” you whisper quietly after a moment, stroking his cheek. His eyelids flutter.

“Thank you,” he responds, feeling his own body subtly tensing at your answer, and ever so gently closes his teeth around your bottom lip once more. Then he rolls you on your back and hovers over you.

Both his hands slip beneath your tunic, the white, gauzy linen he already drew, going around your waist. He lets his fingers sink against your skin, squeezing gently. And you shiver as his hands slide further up, revealing you inch by inch, his thumbs curling around to skirt the underneath of your breast. He can't remember ever touching something so soft. Then, finally, he pulls off the tunic and sends it flying towards the floor.

He could have watched you forever… but it’s you who dips your finger under the straps of your bra, undressing it. As he laid down to not-sleep this evening, he never thought he’d be graced with such a breathtaking view tonight. Smiling silently to himself, he lets his gaze linger on you for a moment, admiring every inch of your exposed chest. Maybe someday he’s going to ask you if he could draw you again, wearing nothing more than his lovebites on your skin.

Niner lowers his face to yours, mouthing against your lips: “You have no idea what you do to me, cyar’ika.”

No you have no idea… Not only are you shattering his worries, his constraints and convictions, things he took for granted and lived after. You’re revealing dreams he never was allowed to have and sate desires he denied himself for so long. You chuckle in response, your hands falling into the tufts of his black hair, pulling him down on you to seal your lips with his in a loving kiss. And your bodies meet. It’s such a foreign, overwhelming feeling, warm skin against warm skin on such a usually shielded part of him. No katarn to save him. No katarn to detain him.

Niner watches, enraptured, as you lay beneath him. Such a beautiful sight: your pupils blown wide, mouth agape, your chest heaving as you try to ease the ache by grinding against him. He’s lost in the way your eyes sparkle, and his own reflection within them.

Everything becomes blurry. For hours, at least that’s how it feels like, his half-naked body is pressed tight to yours. His mouth is always slightly opened, kissing, licking and tasting wherever you would let him, wherever he dares to explore. He drowns in your scent, buries his face in your hair, breathes against your ear to whisper sweet praise and never, not even for a single second, lets you forget that he’s bare and hot… and vulnerable just for you. And, wayii, your hands venture on him, feeling everything he’s offering you in return. He never wants it to end.

You feel like you’re floating in sensations. Absolutely amazing how turned on but equally satisfied you are, just by touching and teasing. Kissing and caressing. Your hands roam his body shamelessly, the strong, rippling muscles of his back as he props himself up over you. They flex beneath your palms. With every touch you make him shiver, and he coaxes soft moans and goosebumps from you by rocking against you. Your fingers play with the soft hair at his nape, and run up and down the length of his spine that’s shielding you from the small room. You grind against him a little more insistently, desperate to give him the friction he needs. The intimacy you both chase after. He feels so incredibly good, his arousal, under his pants. So alive.

Your quiet sighs fill the room, needy sounds and pleads of Niner’s name as he follows his instinct and sends delicious surges of pleasure throughout your body. And he’s unbelievably gentle about it, dexterous, even though you know he never did anything like this before. You hold on to his shoulder blades and you both gradually get tired while he savors you in that precious moment, easing you both to relax and surrender to the rest each of you so desperately need.

At some point during the night, when your kisses get more and more lazy, he eventually lays down next to you and catches you in his arms to pull you close, not leaving an inch between you like he can’t bear to lose the contact of your skin for even a second. With your eyes closed, you rest your head on his chest and listen to his breathing, rough and shallow and loud against the quietness of the hotel room. Again, it feels so natural and familiar.

Both of you lie there, a lingering calm in the air as the minutes drip by. You don't require anything beyond his hands on you and the protection he provides as you are dozing off in his arms.

“So… You were dreaming about me, hm?” he murmurs, dragging his hand over your back.

“Mh-hmm,” you hum. Even though you are barely awake anymore, the way he asks stirs something in your consciousness.

“I was dreaming about you too,” he confesses, mouthing at your temple. He pulls you tighter against him, starts rocking ever so gently against your hip. And as you make a soft sound, nuzzling his chest, he quietly adds: “Was dreaming of having you in my bed. Of how I’d fuck you through my sheets.”

You stop breathing, and your fingers, wrapped around his waist, grip him tighter. Are you already asleep and in dreams? No.. you can feel him, so warm and strong pressing into you. Feel his heart beating rapidly under your cheek. Is he…?

“But I won’t, cyar’ika,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin on your temple.

You whine softly, making him smile in response. Niner reaches out and tilts your chin up towards him, making you meet his eyes. Most of the time during the last days he averted his gaze, though for an entirely different reason than you expected, and you only threw him stolen glances in return, but tonight you can feel the weight of his eyes on you, the meaning behind.

“Not yet… Not when I haven’t been out on a date with you,” he says.

Your cheeks burn at the awareness of him staring at you so closely, of asking you…

His brothers always thought he’s not into women or relationships at all. He gave them the expression that all that counts is the bond they have among clones and their duty to the republic. And most of the time that was exactly what he believed. They were wrong.

“When it comes to you, cyar’ika, I want to do it right. You deserve to be treated right.” He pauses, letting his fingers brush over your chin, while you watch him with glassy eyes. Being responsible and patient has never been so difficult

“So… Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

He doesn’t even know when he’ll have the time to go out with you. But Kal’buir always finds a way for his sons. And if nothing else works… he’ll take Fi’s advice and have dinner with you at Quibbu’s, making it a date. Period.

“Yes,” you say, slowly following his movement as he tilts your chin up, and bump noses with him. “I want to go on a date with you.”

Not only one. And what’s about to follow.

He smiles and bends down to kiss you. “Sweet dreams.”

And for the first time in a while, you both fall into a deep slumber.

“Has anyone seen Niner this morning?” Atin asks as they prepare to go down to the bar and have breakfast.

The concern is written on his face. Niner is usually the first to be up and actuating his squad mates. The fact that he’s absent is so out of the ordinary that it’s almost frightening.

“I'd better check on him in his room.”

But Skirata smiles knowingly and that again induces Fi to grin. “You’d better knock before you enter.”

However, Atin doesn’t. Just as the door slides open he remembers something that his subconsciousness tried to tell him - you haven’t been there either this morning. Only a split second later his eyes fall on a view he never expected to see. Niner is still fast asleep. And so are you. Snuggled up close to each other, your limbs are entangled under the duvet. Your clothes scattered on the floor. The room is filled with quiet breathing.

While he still stands rooted to the spot and open-mouthed watches the scene, Dar and Fi appear next to him. “Told you so,” the latter whispers and Dar smirks suggestively. Niner stirs slightly in his sleep.

Atin feels Fi’s hand on his shoulder, turning him around and prompting to leave the room with a tilt of his head.

“We should leave them alone and have breakfast brought to their rooms,” Fi says.

“We should bring the food up for them ourselves later, “ Dar answers. “The service droid has a habit of showing up at the most inopportune moment.”

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