Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, George Lucas does. I'm not making any money with this story. I do not intend to insult/abuse his characters/annoy anybody in particular.
Wes and Hobbie are characters that have fascinated me for ages, and a few days ago I sat down and wrote this. Please review and tell me honestly what you think.
"I love you Wes. Not in the stupid naïve way that I've pretended to, all these years. It's more. And I need more. So do you."
Hobbie's words had echoed in his head non-stop since then. It had been a week, a slow, agonising, miserable week, Wes's first week in 15 years without his best friend.
And he the gap in his life that Hobbie left was unfathomable.
"No, Hobs. You don't. You can't. It's not true."
"I'm sorry Wes" Hobbie met Wes's eyes for a split second and then he turned away.
And Wes let his best friend walk away.
Terrified of what Hobbie was suggesting, Wes turned away from his best friend. He was the prankster, the loud, rude, cheeky, outgoing one who drove every one insane. But for once, Wes Janson was afraid. He was consumed, day in day out by the thought of Hobs; alone and just as miserable as he himself was simply because he was brave enough to face the truth.
For saying something that Wes had been too afraid to say for 3 years.
It's hard to walk out of someone's life when you are living on a military base, even harder when that someone is your roommate, not to mention wing mate. This just made it tougher for Wes. Hobbie usually left before he got up, but they saw each other at breakfast, at briefings, they simmed together, and ate in the same room in the evening. And when it began to get quiet, when it was time to sleep peacefully and get rest before the next day, an unnatural silence filled their room. The life that he had lived for years now became unbearable.
Because of Hobbie.
Hobbie his wing mate, Hobbie his deputy prankster, Hobs his best friend. But
could it be Hobbie his lover?
As always, Wes knew the answer. Yes, he loved his best friend and yes, he wanted more. But for once, Wes was frightened.
Hobbie Klivian's feet felt heavy as he made his way to the hangar for routine patrols. Routine. Everything around him had become based on that word. Hobbie did one thing after another, becoming more and more withdrawn as Wes continued to look straight through him as the week went on.
He reached the hangar and the lump in his throat seemed to expand as he saw Wes, alone, sitting on the wing of his X-wing looking straight at him.
Hobbie looked away and made his way over to his own fighter, which was inconveniently sitting about 10 feet from Wes. He went through his pre-flight checks as fast as possible and jumped into the fighter without looking at Wes, feeling his friend's eyes on his back the whole time.
Hobbie let out his breath slowly. Maybe he had been wrong, wrong to reveal his feelings and wrong to think that Wes felt the same. He had been so sure, sure of himself and sure of his friend that he had crossed a line that he did not know existed. So sure of their friendship that he had made a daring gamble, one that he may regret for years to come.
What hurt Hobbie most was Wes's reaction. It was, to put it simply, open-mouthed disgust. And ever since, he had been hiding away, barely speaking to anyone and watching Hobbie when he thought he wasn't paying attention. He was a different person, withdrawn and sullen, and Hobbie just didn't understand his friend's reaction.
It was almost like Wes was afraid of something, but Hobbie could not understand why.
"Rouge four, you there?"
"Rouge four ready for take off, Tycho."
"Rouge three?"
Wes did not speak, but he double clicked his comm to acknowledge.
"I'll take that as a yes. You're up, both of you"
Hobbie manuvered his X-wing out of the hangar and started out on their patrol course.
He turned on his comm to warn Wes about an incoming squadron of B-wings returning to base, but was cut off.
"I see them."
Wes's voice was gruff and hoarse, and suddenly a wave of irritation rose in Hobbie, caused by his wing mates' behaviour.
Wes reached to turn off his comm, but was startled to hear Hobbie's voice ring out.
"What's wrong with you, Janson? You've been acting like a stuck-up Gamorean who didn't get what he wanted. Yeah fine, maybe I shouldn't have said what I said, so you if you want you can just forget it"
A lump in his throat stopped Wes from responding.
"Have I offended you? Hurt your feelings?" Hobbie took a deep breath and spoke again. "Well I'm sorry Wes but that's how I feel and I've felt that way for so long that I can't change it. I'm going back to base." His voice cracked and Wes's heart wept.
With that he spun the X-wing around and headed for the hangar, leaving Wes to finish the patrol alone.
Wes docked about an hour later with his mind made up. He was going to find Hobbie and tell him the truth. There would be consequences but in the end they would sort themselves out. His pulse quickened as he jumped out of his X-wing and headed towards the pilots mess. Hobbie was nowhere to be seen. He half ran, half jogged to the canteen, but did not find him there. Neither did he find him simming, or in any of the briefing rooms or in the med ward. After nearly two hours of searching, Wes gave up and slumped down in a chair in a corner of the mess.
He sat there, half watching a blazing row between Plouur and a bravetech. Hobbie was hiding from him, no doubt. And Wes couldn't blame him. When he thought about it, would Hobbie even want to make up? If it were reversed, would Wes accept an apology after being completely ignored for a week?
Wes sat up in his seat suddenly. Of course! He realised where Hobbie was, the one place he hadn't looked. Maybe he wasn't hiding from him, maybe he was waiting.
Wes reached the door of their room in record time. With trembling hands, He keyed the code.
ACCESS DENIED
Wes frowned at his hands and tried again. 15 for how many years they had been friends, 42, the ultimate answer, and 17 for the record number of threats Wedge had given them in one go.
ACCESS DENIED
Realisation dawned on Wes. Hobbs was in there, and he had changed the code. He didn't want to see him. Well he wouldn't be able to stay there forever, and Wes could wait. He settled down in the doorframe and to the amusement of everyone who passed by, drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The next morning Hobbie lingered for as long as he could before leaving his room to go down to the canteen.
He opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, only to be shoved roughly back through the door.
His shout of protest was cut short when he realised who it was.
Wes opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. He stood; open mouthed looking at his friend with blood pumping in his ears.
Anger surged through Hobbie again. Did Wes need to torture him some more? Why didn't he say anything?
"I'm leaving." Hobbie tried to leave the room but Wes stopped him.
"Get out of my way, Janson." He said roughly.
Wes finally gave up on trying to find the words that were failing him. Without thinking he stepped forward, grabbed Hobbie by his shoulders and planted a solid kiss on his lips.
Hobbie pushed him away and started to move towards the door. Wes gasped, thinking that he had been too late.
"Where are you going?"
"To close the door, dumbass."
"Oh. Alright the-"