Just a drabble.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
She knew he was there before he knocked. It had become a habit, when the reality of war became too real, too close, and the loneliness of quiet, cold nights set in. She sensed it as the fragmented pieces of their fleet returned to base. She saw through his triumphant mask as he stepped out of the cockpit of his X-Wing, felt it in his arms as he hugged her in what no doubt appeared to be in celebration of victory but in reality felt as if she were the only thing anchoring him to reality, felt his eyes linger on her as he stepped away for briefing and she set to work repairing the damage the battle had done to his beloved ship. She had spent the better part of the evening convincing herself it wasn't what prevented her body from succumbing to the sweet embrace of sleep, it wasn't what kept pulling her eyes to the door of her small room, it wasn't the reason she couldn't stop her exhausted body from tossing and turning.
So when the quiet knock sounded from the other side of her door, she found herself already moving to answer. She keyed the door open with a soft hiss, taking in his disheveled appearance. His orange jumpsuit had been replaced with a simple white shirt that hugged his chest and loose fitting black pants. His dark curls tumbled across his forehead as he looked at her with clouded eyes that held a question they both already knew the answer to. Wordlessly she stepped aside, and wordlessly he entered.
As the door slid shut she felt his hands gently slide around her waist, his face finding sanctuary buried in the space where her neck met her shoulder, hiding in the auburn waves that had fallen out of her haphazard bun. She leaned against him, allowing his arms to tighten their hold on her as he breathed her in. She turned in his embrace as she felt him tremble softly, winding her arms around his neck. Her fingers found familiar space tangled in his mess of curls, her body molding seamlessly against his. No words were exchanged, and no words were needed. Outside this room, he was a symbol of the resistance, the best pilot this side of the galaxy, strong, unshakable. She was the talented mechanic that kept him flying. But inside, stripped of titles and uniforms, they were just two people who had seen the horrors of war and were desperate to cling on to any warmth they could find in the bitter cold of space. They had long since abandoned attempting to put a name to what they were, content to simply loose themselves in each other's company.
Her eyes slid shut as his lips moved against her skin, tracing the line of her jaw until he reached her mouth in kiss that quickly became urgent. Hands became needy, longing to feel bare flesh as they removed the barriers that kept them apart. She lost herself in the haze of their familiar dance, hardly feeling the cool sheets against her flushed skin. They fused together, losing the place where one of them stopped and the other began. Their bodies moved in sync, needing only touch and sensation to communicate. Emerald eyes met brown as they felt themselves tumbling to the edge, their dance reaching its climax. Breaths came in gasps and sighs, and as the haze lifted they found themselves tangled together.
His hands pushed her hair away from her face, placing a soft kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her and rolling onto his back. With a sigh she tucked her head under his chin, already feeling the pull of sleep at the edges of her mind. The fingers that gently traced invisible shapes on her bare shoulder stilled as his breathing slowed into a deep, even pace. In a few hours he would wake, placing a kiss to each of her closed eyelids before sneaking out into the quiet halls to beat the bustle of every day activity. But in these quite hours of darkness, before the base woke with the first rays of daylight, he was hers.