are we having pun yet

for the @rebelcaptainprompts prompt lucky. set on Hoth after they all survive Scarif hahaha #denial

“Be quiet!” Jyn hisses. “I hear something!”

Cassian stills. And then slowly, very slowly, he lifts his lips from Jyn’s collarbone.

A long pause.

“I don’t hear anything,” he murmurs, his stubble prickling at her skin. The hand that’s inched its way beneath her shirt shifts upwards, calloused palm rough against her lower back.

“Footsteps,” Jyn insists, swatting at his head with the hand that had been formerly tangled in his hair. “Someone’s coming.”

“Ah. And you don’t want to be seen together?”

Any attempt to sound wounded on his part is mitigated the slow swipe of his tongue up the column of her throat.

Jyn rolls her eyes. “Not with your hand down my pants, I don’t.”

“My hand’s not down your pants,” says Cassian, reasonably.

“Not yet.”

He chuckles, bites at the skin below her jaw.

“Good point.”

The footsteps—she knew she’d heard them—grow louder, and even Cassian must hear them now because he lifts his head entirely, eyes trained on the supply closet door as though prepared to leap away from her at any moment. (Jyn rather wants to point out that he could just step away from her now and save them all the drama, but she’s too busy listening. Well, listening and staring at the sharp line of Cassian’s jaw, clenched in anticipation.)

But then the steps are fading; whoever it was must have passed them by.

“Okay,” Jyn breathes, tugging at his jacket. “That was lucky.”

Cassian turns back to face her, tilts his head to the side. She thinks, unbidden, that she’ll never get tired of seeing that smile: crooked and sharp, like a flash of light.

“I have a room, you know,” he says. “That locks.”

She gives him a look. “We have, what, ten minutes before the meeting? But if you want to relocate—”

“No, no.” He’s laughing when he pulls her closer; she can feel the rumble of it against her chest. “Sorry. Forgot I was on the clock.”

“Be quiet,” she grouses.

“Hear someone else out there?”

“Cassian, just—” she presses to her tiptoes, slips her arm around his shoulder. “Be quiet.”

He seems happy enough to oblige.

  • Warren: *walks into room*
  • Kurt: !!
  • Warren: *takes off shirt*
  • Kurt: ?????!!
  • Warren: *strikes a pose*
  • Kurt: !!!!???!!!?
  • Warren: *makes direct eye contact with Kurt*
  • Kurt: ??!?????!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?
  • Warren: talk birdy to me
  • Kurt: ...get out