Something Dangerous

Here is the smutty kalluzeb fic I've been working on. I still need to edit it and tweak some things, but here is the raw form of it before I can finalize it and have a beta look at it. Thanks for being patient with my slow af writing.

The evening sunset was different on the other side of the planet than where Garel City was, but still just as beautiful. Zeb regarded the deep purple of the sky with a mix of feelings. The last time they were on Garel, they were leaving it, the small fleet they escaped with fleeing the Imperial forces that stood to occupy the sector, not to mention those pesky inquisitors. 

The Imperial presence had dwindled on Garel but was very much alive, even in the smaller cities and spaceports of the planet. Zeb still had to dodge meager patrols and wear a stupid disguise to be extra careful. 

The wool of the cloak was itchy against his fur, rubbing static at his shoulders until he was constantly scratching at it in annoyance. The swish of the fabric behind him also kept making his ears twitch, giving him the feeling of being followed or watched. 

He didn’t mind a solo mission, but he also minded not having a six, or some kind of backup. Hera was a short few jumps away on Atollon running an impromptu flight program, but the other spectres were off doing Mandalorian stuff sectors away. 

Zeb’s mission was simple but not without its risks. He had partly volunteered mainly because of his knowledge of the sector, and more specifically Garel itself, as well as his potential contact on planet to exchange verbal intel. 

Datadiscs and files were more genuine, carried more information, and could be manually cross-checked for tampering and reliability. However, they were also more susceptible to being seized and divulged of its secrets, more so than a being with a mind of its own. Not that a being with a mind of its own couldn’t be captured and interrogated, but intel was intel in the end. 

Besides, Zeb had his suspicions that this verbal intel may just be a veiled loyalty test from Command meant specifically for his contact: fulcrum. 

There could be a chance this would be another fulcrum and not just the one he hoped it was… Was hope the right word here? Zeb asked himself. 

He leaned against the wall and watched the sun slowly slide behind a particularly tall rock butte, a common feature to Garel’s horizon, waiting for his contact's arrival. 

Before long, he heard an all-too-familiar voice bark out an order loudly, too loudly, to a squad of troopers. Zeb felt his senses jolt alive like he had been awoken from a dream. 

Zeb stood tall, almost awestruck, as he looked across the meager crowd of citizens of the spaceport to see Agent Kallus already looking at him. They locked eyes before he had the sense to look away and act nonchalant, the instinct to both flee or fight tugging almost a tangible weight on his feet as he mulled his way into the crowd.

He pretended to stop and read a map of the spaceport as the squad marched behind him. 

“Before your end of shift, I want a thorough patrol of the southern bays for any suspicious activity. Rebel cells are known to target the busier bays to hide in plain sight,” Kallus told his troops, and Zeb couldn’t help but think that was a dig at him. 

Kallus walked behind Zeb, continuing his orders until Zeb lost the sound of their boots to the far edge of the open area between the different sectors of the spaceport. 

Zeb was about to pull back his hood for a better view to search for his contact again, when the man himself appeared right beside him, studying the map next to him with a rigid posture. 

“The northern bays don’t have any departures scheduled during the dinner shift, citizen,” Kallus told him, looking so severely put upon and detached, that Zeb wondered if it wasn’t entirely an act. “This map is useless this time of day,” he continued, gesturing at a general area on the map that Zeb chanced was to be their meet-up point: a northern bay at the edges of the map. “I would suggest using that one over there.” 

Zeb followed his pointed finger and ducked his head in an act of subservience. “Ah, right, thanks, sir. Thank you for your service an’ all ‘round here, too. You an’ your troopers are a welcomed sight.” 

He heard a scoff behind him as he headed over to the other map. That was definitely not an act; Zeb smiled to himself. 

Less than an hour later, Zeb found that small interaction with Kallus was already getting under his skin, and not in a way he would have suspected. He simultaneously wanted to punch him and kriff him, the latter not as surprising as he thought it would be. 

Lately, when he found himself frustrated, his thoughts would always end up with the same fantasy: an even match between him and another being -usually human, usually male, for some reason- where they would end up in a heated hand-to-hand battle in the rain, tumbling and growling, clothes being ripped off by some rocks or something, until one thing would lead to another… 

Zeb didn’t know when it changed, maybe it never had, but when he looked upon Kallus now, making his way into the empty cargo bay, he felt an electric charge in the air. If it was anyone else, he knew that meant he was attracted to them. It was rare for Zeb to act on his urges, but when an attraction presented itself to a willing party, he knew better than to turn it down, lest he be left wanting, unsure when the next opportunity would arise. 

But this was Kallus. He couldn't want that with him, could he? The electric charge was just latent feelings of combat between them right? The image of them sharing body heat on that ice moon, along with the knowledge that Kallus had taken his advice and was now on their side, made him question himself more. 

Kallus hadn’t seen him yet. Zeb's perch was high and obscured from any entrance other than the closed bay doors looming overhead in the large canopy of the room. His walk was cautious but still an Imperial one, marching bootsteps announcing his presence instead of masking it. Zeb was sure he could if he wanted to, but this was probably his way of showing peace towards the meeting. 

Zeb couldn’t resist the opportunity when Kallus passed his stack of crates, his gaze occupied with searching the opposite side of the room. 

He pounced. 

He hit the ground instead of Kallus, the fulcrum agent having sidestepped at the last moment, avoiding the impact. Well, that didn’t go as planned. He rolled to his back and immediately got tangled in his cloak as he tried to face his target. 

“Karabast!” Zeb exclaimed and tore the garment away from him finally. When he looked up, he was met with the end of a blaster aimed at his face. 

“That was embarrassing,” Kallus said and he put away his blaster to offer him a hand, another reminder of their time on the ice moon. Zeb considered batting his hand away, but his body acted before his thoughts, and the next thing he knew, he was hauled upright and in the other man's personal space, their hands still clasped together in the miniscule gap between them. 

“Was the damn cloak’s fault.” Zeb finally released his grip and put a step between them. He kicked the offending article of clothing further away with his foot. 

“You’d be less conspicuous without it. I spotted you a parsec away in the quad.” Kallus folded his arms across his chest. 

“You might have, but your troopers didn’t. Kinda hard to hide a lasat.” 

“Yes, but you’ve managed thus far without a disguise, and that was with me hunting you for a good portion of it,” Kallus said smugly and there it was again: the urge to punch and kriff him all mixed into one big, demanding impulse. 

Zeb had to reign himself in. Back to business. 

“We alone?” Zeb looked up at the corners he knew may hold monitoring devices.

“For now,” Kallus answered swiftly, as if he also wanted to get back to the business at hand. “Surveillance is undergoing maintenance in this section per my order, and my troopers should be finishing up their shift and heading to the evening meal in the mess.” 

“Alright. So, fulcrum. Give me my intel.” 

And so Kallus did, providing Zeb with his observations of the dwindling Imperial presence on Garel, the numbers syphoning out towards Lothal and other planets with hints of any sort of rebel activity. He told him of rising recruitment, both for the Empire and for the Rebellion. 

“But these are all things Command knows already. We both know the real reason they sent you of all beings to confirm all this in person.” The muscle in Kallus’ jaw twitched as he stared down an invisible target in the distance. “After all, you are the one they credit with recruiting me. Who better to test my loyalty than with the one responsible for… all of it.” 

“I volunteered for this mission, they coulda sent anyone, y’know,” Zeb countered, but even he knew better than to argue it further. Command had presented the mission as if he had a choice to turn it down, probably knowing that the possibility of it being Kallus made it impossible for Zeb to not volunteer.

“We both know it was never going to be anyone else,” Kallus said, and for some stupid, foolish reason, Zeb read more into that than he probably should have. “Before you make any further decision about me, at least let me make my loyalties clear to you.”

Wait, what?

Kallus was then rushing him, pushing him back into a tall crate. 

Zeb reacted swiftly to a combative ready position, his hand bringing forward his bo-rifle to block Kallus’ advance before his back even made contact with the crate. 

But Kallus didn’t even have his weapon out, nothing to attack him with. All Zeb saw was his hands dart out and come up to tug at his head with a brute force any lesser being might have taken for a viable threat against their person. 

Then there was Kallus’ face filling his vision and a firm, moist pressure against his mouth. 

Oh. 

That electricity between them sparked alive into a bolt and the next thing Zeb knew, he was pushing forward, taking Kallus with him. 

Kallus didn't have a bo-rifle of his own to block against, instead his armor acted as the barrier between them, the clatter of metal surprisingly intimate in the secluded space between crates. 

Zeb didn't have time to taunt at the willingness at which Kallus was shoved backwards, their feet in sync like they were dancing, his submissiveness to it so in contrast with the way he kissed him back when their lips met again, this time in a firmer lock. 

No, it wasn't submissiveness, he soon realized, it was a willing entry into the field. Kallus kissed him back with a fierceness that instantly burned low and hot in Zeb’s belly, urging him to meet every push and lick and bite with one of his own. 

It was the last thing Zeb needed to be doing, here and now, and yet he was. He was kissing Agent Kallus, who he just found out was fulcrum -their fulcrum- less than a month ago. Guess we’re friends now… Bit of an understatement now, huh Zeb, he thought to himself. 

Gloved hands touched where Zeb still held the bo-rifle and he eased his grip. He broke the kiss to catch his breath, but the hands over his snapped his attention down to see Kallus tug the bo-rifle back hard against his breastplate, keeping him pinned. Maybe Kallus was struggling with the separation between intimacy and violence too. 

“We on the same page here?” Zeb couldn’t help but ask. As for a test of loyalty, this was one hell of a declaration of intent, but Zeb wanted everything to be clear. 

“I'd hate to see what this means otherwise, if we weren’t,” Kallus said with a genuine mirth to his snarkiness. Kallus didn’t need to voice it anymore, he was a man of action, much as Zeb was too. He was making it loud and clear he liked their dynamic a little rough. Zeb could do that. 

“Right, c’mere.” Zeb let go of one end of his bo-rifle, the other hand taking its full weight, and proceeded to scratch his free hand into the flaxen hair of Kallus’ scalp, the strands stiff with some kind of product. He roughly tugged him back in for another round of kisses. They quickly grew more filthy and open mouthed, building into a hot frenzy that could easily escalate into something more. Zeb could already feel his cock slipping out of its sheath, rubbing wetly on the fabric of his jumpsuit. 

He felt Kallus shift, his body angling towards his bo-rifle, and for a moment Zeb expected a twist of betrayal; for Kallus to gain control of the weapon and turn it on him. It was tense for a second too long, and the kiss was broken. 

There was a puff of breath as Kallus let out a little scoff, and Zeb saw the twitch of a smirk appear on his reddened lips. Kallus then nodded his head towards a crate next to them, and Zeb realized he only meant to have him set the bo-rifle upon it. Zeb quickly did so and licked his lips as he glared back at the man. 

“I thought we were on the same page,” Kallus taunted, his eyes focused down to his mouth, following the motion of his tongue. 

“Shut up,” Zeb snapped and crowded the other man back against the crates, doing his best to create an imposing figure.

He was still someone in complete control, and also someone mindful enough to put enough space between Kallus and a weapon, even though his loyalties were more than clear now, as far as Zeb was concerned. Zeb was also someone who couldn't turn down the temptation of a lifetime either. Time to see if they truly were on the same page. 

“We’re gonna kriff right here, right now, where any patrol can come in on us,” Zeb said, even though they both knew that was almost impossible. The risk was still delicious and illicit.   

Zeb pulled him close, with both hands this time, and kissed him again. Kallus matched his heat, letting him know without words he was keen to that proposal. 

“And I’m not talking ‘bout a quick suck or hand-job,” Zeb said, his claws catching on the fabric of Kallus’ pants as he squeezed. “I’m gonna bounce this tight Imperial ass on my lasat cock until we both come. That’s the page I’m on. How ‘bout you?” 

“Y-yes.” Kallus looked good when he was flustered, Zeb relished. 

As quick as a green cadet given his first orders, the fulcrum agent began to remove his armor. He had his boots kicked off and was working on his belt before Zeb followed suit. 

“Good,” Zeb praised. His armor and jumpsuit were cleared from his body faster than he normally took, the elicit bareness to the cool air of the cargo bay prickling at his fur. 

Kallus had just kicked his pants away when Zeb was fully nude. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Kallus was sizing him up, and by the way his gaze drifted down and lingered, he liked what he saw. Zeb hadn’t even fully emerged from his sheath to put on an impressive enough show in his opinion, but was well on the way to being fully aroused with the way Kallus looked at him hungrily.

Without looking away, Kallus unzipped his tunic and let the stiff fabric fall open to reveal a furred, muscular chest. He was still wearing his smalls, a noticeable bulge straining against the simple black fabric. Zeb didn’t have time to admire or touch, because the agent soon fell to his knees and began to lick and kiss at his still-everting dick with no hesitation.

Zeb gave a jolt of surprise; it had been a long time since he had been touched there by another being, let alone his own hand. If Kallus noticed his surprise, he didn’t show it, and Zeb almost laughed at the enthusiastic way his own member responded to the attention. It lurched and gushed out his precum, the slick material oozing from his nubs easily. Kallus licked it up like some kind of treat, and then began to give him proper head once he had emerged further out. 

“Karabast…” Zeb hissed, a wave of pleasure flashing up his spine. His head went fuzzy, in a dangerous sort of way, and it was with great effort that he refocused and reminded himself just who it was that was doing this to him. He was doing it with great skill, too. 

Kallus worked him deeper down his throat with consecutive bobs of his head, stretched lips just brushing at the small swell of Zeb’s uninflated knot. The sounds of him swallowing and struggling with his size scratched just right on an itch Zeb didn’t know he even had. The temptation to grab a fistful of hair and press his way the rest of the way down that pretty mouth was tempting. Too tempting, even for his first.

“Thought I said no quick suck,” Zeb managed to say. 

Kallus pulled back, letting his cock free with a pucker to his lips, fluid dripping down his chin obscenely as he tilted his head up to glare at him sharply. “If you can finish from that alone, I’ll either have to applaud my own abilities, or seriously question your short stamina.” 

“We get more’n one, unlike you humans,” Zeb muttered. 

“What?” 

“Shut up, get off the floor,” Zeb commanded and there was only a beat of petulance before Kallus stood. 

Zeb pulled the man in by his waist, their bodies slotting against one another in an intimate press. He went back to their proceedings of kissing, albeit a little slower this time, making sure to bare his teeth and steal Kallus’ breath away before letting him show any sort of dominance over him. 

“I can taste myself on your tongue,” Zeb said with a half smile. “Tempted to put you back on your knees and give you more. Won't, though.”

Kallus moaned into his mouth in answer when their tongues collided again, the sound low like a purr, and Zeb relished the way that made his insides twist with want, his dick giving another mighty pulse, this time against something hard and hot. 

Kallus downright growled with delight, rocking his hips forward into Zeb’s. The friction was delicious. Zeb really did growl, reaching down to grab one of Kallus’ legs and pulled it up. Their groins made better contact with the position. 

The limb he held was muscular and dusted with more fur. It felt long and powerful in his grip, definitely strong enough to be able to wrap around his waist if he were to fuck him standing up. Zeb hooked his grip under Kallus’ knee to test this theory further.

Something inorganic nicked at the tip of his claw and he looked down and noticed a vibroblade strapped to his shin, over his sock. 

While Zeb might have been completely nude, he still had his claws and teeth as weapons. He should not have expected anything less from this man other than to be armed, even as stripped down as he was. Kallus was well built and agile for a human of his stature, as Zeb had experienced first hand, and he was sure even without the vibroblade, he would still be a threat. 

Kriff, that was kinda hot. Okay, that was very hot, but not something he would admit aloud to his used-to-be-nemesis, even if they were about to have sex. 

Zeb plunged a hand down to gather at his own slick before sliding down the back of Kallus’ smalls. One finger began to press to find his target. This time Kallus was the one to jump as Zeb made contact with his destination. To his credit, he didn’t protest or squirm away, and instead gave a breathy gasp of affirmation and encouragement. 

His rim was tight but not as tight as he would have thought him to be. He was finger fucking him easily with one digit in no time. Kallus was moaning and kissing him through it all, leaning his chest against his and biting at his neck in a lessened version of marking, not breaking the skin but giving enough of a sting to make his blood sing. 

Zeb didn't warn him when he slid in another finger, but the intrusion seemed welcomed with the way the human arched against him, writhing as if he could melt into his skin if he pressed hard enough.

“Ah, kriff, that’s it,” Kallus huffed hotly against his ear, “get that tight Imperial ass ready.” 

“Not so tight, actually,” Zeb punctuated by sinking his fingers deeper. And not so Imperial anymore, Zeb mentally added, at least not where allegiances were concerned. He curled his fingers ever so slightly as he almost pulled out, before delving back in. Kallus choked back a whimper before regaining some composure.

“I have needs, Garazeb, and I see to them regularly,” Kallus said with an arrogant flatness, belying the way his body was so obviously reacting to his. 

Zeb tried not to let the tendril of jealousy become real, even though it was adding a deliciously burning fuel to the fire. 

“That so?” Zeb tried to sound unprovoked, but his two fingers inside that enticingly warm hole sped up their pace. The wet sounds of his fingers pounding into Kallus’ ass grew loud and obscene.

“This morning, even,” Kallus says, his voice now struggling to stay even, his still-gloved hands squeezing into his shoulders fitfully. “Bent over in the ‘fresher.” 

A faceless human in Imperial black appeared in Zeb’s mind, thrusting into Kallus from behind, getting to have his way with his fulcrum, getting to see him fully naked and exposed -and not just to his skin. Would Kallus stay armed in the ‘fresher: a blade in the towels, just out of reach as he is utterly wrecked and ravaged, fucked wide open as his needs are met? 

That jealous tendril wrapped itself around Zeb’s tongue. “You'll be ruined for any other cock but mine when I'm through with you.” 

“Promise?” Kallus bit out, a whine following it when Zeb thrust to his knuckles and lifted, the man losing his footing for a brief moment, arms wrapping around his shoulders for support, fingertips pushing against the grain of his fur before fisting at the scruff. Zeb shuddered at the sensation, lost between pushing him away and wanting it again and again. 

“Yeah,” Zeb affirmed. He spun them a few steps further into the maze of crates, settling when he came upon a low stack with the perfect height for him to perch Kallus upon. He tugged at the agent's unders until they ended up caught on and left to dangle off the handle of one of the knives strapped to his shin. 

With a pose straight out of a dirty holo, Kallus opened his legs wide, his heels braced high near the edge of the crate, arms supporting his weight behind him as he offered himself up for the taking. 

Just above his reddened hole, was a flushed cock, long and swollen, bigger than Zeb was expecting, honestly, for a human. A ruddy patch of coarse fur, unsurprisingly neatly trimmed, framed the area. 

If Kallus was a proper lover, Zeb might have tasted and teased, held his hefty member in his hand and found out how he liked to be touched. But he wasn’t, and they were so far from anything being proper.  

Zeb took his own cock and smeared his slick against Kallus’ ass and began to press inside, inch by inch, until the swell of his knot bumped against that beautifully stretched rim of his. The heat and squeeze was a near perfect sensation, reminding him that sex could be pretty damn good. He had almost forgotten, it had been so long.

Focused on the visage in front of him, Zeb pushed Kallus’ thighs further apart, leaning his weight forward and snapping his hips to plunge his cock that few inches more inside. They both moaned, loud and indulgent.

Kallus made a wrecked, guttural noise above him when Zeb pulled back and thrust forward again, but Zeb couldn’t look away from the sight of his cock, wet and gushing slick, pistoning in and out of that perfect hole of his. Kallus’ own dick twitched with each stroke, dark red and purple, leaking its own liquid at the tip. 

Zeb squeezed at the meat of Kallus’ thighs in each of his hands, claws indenting into the flesh and sure to leave bruises, and rolled his hips in a cadence like a heartbeat, his cock plunging deep over and over again, squelching obscenely with the movement. Ashla help him, he couldn't look away. But his instincts prickled at the fur of his neck; don't look away, don't get distracted, face your enemy.

Zeb added power to his thrusts, sharply tilting his hips upwards with each full penetration. Humans had a little spot inside…

“Kriffing hells, yes, right there! Right there!”

Found it, Zeb relished and bit his lip. 

“Ah, gods! Right the-there! Please!” Kallus let out, sounding so uncharacteristically desperate that Zeb finally, finally, tore his gaze away to feast on the way the man’s face contorted with pleasure as he fucked him. 

His mouth hung open, his throat releasing grunts of increasing pitch. His golden eyes were still sharp and focused, darting between looking up at his face and down to where they were connected, pointed eyebrows pinched upwards, errant strands of hair falling across them as they fell loose from their coiffed styling. 

Zeb was going to pop off his first at any moment. 

“Ka-karabast!” Zeb hissed, no other words forming as the act consumed him, “kara-ah! Karabast…” 

His orgasm was anything but gentle as it punched itself across his core, seizing his muscles taut for an almost unbearable two seconds before everything released and he blew a thick load inside of the snug warmth surrounding his cock. His knot flared, creating a tight lock, the tissue flushed and still gently pulsing as he caught his breath. 

There was a tremor against his sweaty palms, and Zeb noticed that Kallus’ legs were shaking and twitching in his grasp. He released them both and placed one hand on the crate besides Kallus’ hip. The other slid over and took hold of Kallus’ neglected dick and began to stroke with long, squeezing pulls. 

Kallus released a throaty, trembling cry. 

When Zeb looked up to watch his face again, the agent looked almost embarrassed, his eyes averted and his cheeks rosy. 

Zeb sped up his hand, his palm getting slicker from the human's precum. He fisted around the cockhead and rolled his wrist with a tight, indulgent pressure, before starting back with his quickened pulls. 

Kallus made the noise again. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Zeb praised in a hushed tone, a blanket coaxing to everything he wanted from Kallus in this moment: his cries of pleasure, his impending orgasm, his utter surrender. It wasn’t a duel or battle in a traditional sense, he knew that somewhere in his sex-fogged mind, but what else could their dynamic be other than to match each other, blow for blow. 

“Zeb-” Kallus’ breath hitched and Zeb felt a fluttering around his sensitive cock before a tight contraction made him gasp aloud.   

Kallus came, his pearly spend spurting up from Zeb’s fist and all over his own heaving chest and abdomen. 

The pressure around his cock eased as Kallus came down from his climax, his head resting askew on the crate behind him. He was breathing heavily, his chest splotched with a blush and a good amount of ejaculate and sweat. Karabast, he looked good debauched, better than he had been simply flustered.

If Zeb’s erection had softened any, it was back in full force after that, ready for its second round.

An unspoken apology burned at Zeb’s tongue as he forcefully slung Kallus’ knees over each of his elbows and manhandled him until his ass left the crate and hung off the edge. Kallus scrambled for purchase, his movements sluggish but strong as his hands went flat against the surface he was barely on anymore, balancing the rest of his weight so he didn’t fall. 

“I’m not through with you,” Zeb warned, his throat raw and his tone deep. 

“Good,” Kallus snarled back, baring his teeth in a challenging sneer. 

Zeb let a beat pass to be sure he was properly positioned before he began to truly bounce that tight Imperial ass on his lasat cock, just as he said he would. He hadn’t held back before, but he hadn’t truly let loose either. He felt downright feral for it now. 

His knot had deflated slightly and Zeb could feel and hear his own fluids dripping out as he slammed deep with every thrust. He could barely suck in a full breath, his entire body reverberating from the pounding impacts of where their bodies met. Kallus’ body jolted with the ricochets of it too, his hair now completely shaken free and his eyes squeezed shut. 

A primal need to fill him full narrowed his thoughts as he chased his pleasure down. Amid the roaring in his ears and the chaos of his thrusts, he marveled that it was Kallus of all people that was so wet and hot and open for him. 

If Zeb’s pounding rhythm was a heartbeat before, this time it was a full on stutter of movement. Their flesh clapped together without a set beat, a salaciously erratic chorus to their grunts and cries by the end of it. 

Zeb, unable to even utter a ‘karabast’, shook and thrashed into his second orgasm, growling and straining to go deeper, but he was already as deep as he could possibly go. The lips of his sheath and balls pressed against Kallus’ abused rim and flesh so tightly he couldn’t tell where their genitalia ended and where they began anymore. 

Zeb bucked hard, one last time, and burst. 

Everything was a sweet buzz for an unknown amount of time, and if a troop of bucketheads came round the corner and held a blaster to his head, Zeb probably wouldn’t have even noticed. That alone should have shamed him, he was still a soldier, still on a mission, but he couldn’t muster a single damn to give. As it was, he could barely stand, a lot of his weight curled around and locked against another being and a cocoon of crates. 

He was tied to Kallus, knot so inflated this time it was almost painful, Kallus’ ass squeezing at the girth of him in small, fitful flexes. Kallus had his legs wrapped around him, fabric and leatheris from his socks and vibroblade hilts digging into his haunches and buttocks. Zeb felt himself smile; there was something strangely endearing about that. 

They were mostly on the crates now, and if the painful twinges were any indication, Zeb thinks he banged his knee and wrist against it when he collapsed to its surface. Kallus’ hands squeezed into his shoulders and neck, and Zeb held him tighter, the embrace soothing his reeling senses, even at the awkward angle, and his mouth was open and puffing hotly against his own, kissing him even before he had the forethought to kiss him back. 

They stayed like that for a good handful of moments before Kallus tried to say something, his voice broken. He cleared his throat and tried again, his voice soft. “How long?”

“Not much longer,” Zeb said into the warm space between them, both surprised and not surprised that Kallus knew what was happening.

He usually avoided letting his knot swell inside anyone for this very reason. The tissue was erect and stiff, but was still quite a bit malleable if he really wanted to pull free. He has had to in the past, when his partner would freak out about it, but it has never hurt the one tied more than a small discomfort. It was, however, just about one of the most uncomfortable things he has had to experience, not even including the humiliation from it alone. 

“You, ah, mentioned… more than one,” Kallus said, not quite a question but inflicted like one. 

“Uh, yeah. I usually get three but, heh,” Zeb swallowed thickly, unsure if it was embarrassing to share, “don't think I got the third one left in me.” 

“Would it be too self absorbed to take that as a compliment?” Kallus asked and Zeb huffed out a small incredulous laugh. 

“You’re somethin’ else,” Zeb commended, snuffling into the crook of his neck and kissing the sweat there. His skin smelled deliciously of salt and arousal, sex and standard soap. The image of Kallus in the ‘fresher, cleaning up after his morning tryst, still catching on his flickering strand of jealousy. “I hope you don't prove your loyalty like this to everyone.” 

“What an enticing recruitment incentive,” Kallus said, almost to himself. He took in a breath as if he were about to say something very crucial about said recruitment and Zeb couldn't help but tense. “I said before that I had needs and that I took care of them regularly. This morning…” 

Zeb braced himself. Did he really want to hear the details and how this could possibly tie in to the conversation of recruitment and loyalty? Zeb could feel the swell of his knot already shrink in, the uncomfortableness of squeezing in the meat of it to exit a very strong temptation. 

“That wasn't quite truthful of me,” Kallus told him. “I implied I took a partner with me. I didn’t.” 

“But you were so. Ready-”

“I used a prosthetic, Zeb,” Kallus said bluntly. “I learned long ago not to create attachments of that kind, no matter how casual or by chance. And I sure as hell wouldn’t do so in the communal showers, at least not anymore. I was in my bunk, alone.” 

Zeb felt foolish as he relaxed into the shelter of their embrace again. It seemed Kallus liked a bit of heat-of-the-moment riling up as much as Zeb apparently had, given how he reacted to it in the throes of it too; he had promised him he would be ruined for any other cock but his own, after all. Was it also foolish to still fancy that a genuine statement, even knowing Kallus took prosthetic cocks? 

“Are prosthetic cocks standard issue for Imperial morale or do you have to go to a specialty shop and sneak it in?” Zeb joked and Kallus gave a snort. 

“Do you really want the answer to that, Zeb?” Kallus was smiling, he could tell. The possibility that it was standard issue after all… 

“Well now I do, but… maybe next time.” Zeb could feel his knot already settling down; enough for him to pull free without too much discomfort, he thinks. “Gonna pull out now.”

“Alright,” Kallus said, but Zeb could feel the tension coil around him as he gently slipped away from the warmth he also wanted to hold onto. 

He released his hold on Kallus, the man settling upon the crate. Zeb felt unbidden pride fluff at his fur when he watched him try to wobble to his feet, fail, and sit himself back down on the crate. He adjusted himself upwards into a more seated position with a grimace and a scowl, trying to avoid the large pool of slick and come under him. It was moot since it was still dripping from his puffy, reddened hole, but he still managed. 

“Hold on, be on back of a tick,” Zeb slid into his jumpsuit just up to his hips. Kallus muttered something like in a tick. Zeb darted out of the corner of crates to grab his discarded cloak. He tore at the end as he made his way back. 

Kallus was already wiping at the mess on his chest with a piece of thin tissue when he got in his space again. He handed him a square of cloth from his cloak, which he took with a sigh of relief. That little tissue was doing nothing for the plentitude of the mess. 

Zeb gave him some privacy by turning away to deal with his own mess now smearing inside his jumpsuit. His dick was slow to retreat back to its sheath, prepared for its third no doubt. He internally scolded himself: give it up, buddy, we are drained dry. 

“This was a stupid idea,” Kallus muttered as he finished cleaning himself off. He was pulling up his unders when Zeb scowled at him. 

Well he could go un-fuck himself then. Zeb sighed; he was kinda right, though. “Yeah, maybe, but I didn't hear you complaining ‘bout it while I was balls deep in that tight Imperial ass.” 

“Eloquently put,” Kallus sniped under his breath. “I suppose I meant that more for myself. It was impulsive on my part, and I'm not blaming you for what I clearly wanted too. I am completely at fault for initiating it,” Kallus said as he straightened his hair and began doing back up his tunic. Zeb already missed looking at his chest. 

“I think I had at least some part in that, too. Startin’ things and lettin’ it get that far.” Zeb rubbed at his neck. Everything had escalated so quickly. Looking back, Zeb hardly recognized himself. He wasn't someone who did that, especially on a mission. He shouldn't have let himself be governed by his libido. 

“I don't regret it,” Kallus said with a surprising amount of sincerity, as if sensing his thoughts, “but it was stupid of us.”

“Mission objective is complete, nevermind how,” Zeb conceded, finishing putting on his armor. Kallus was now gingerly stepping into his trousers, looking sore but sated. 

“I'm sure Command will want a thorough debrief from you,” Kallus said, suddenly looking leery about the prospect. “While I won’t assume to dictate what you share with your superiors, I suppose asking you for some discretion would be greatly appreciated on my part.” 

“I'm not one to kiss an’ yell,” Zeb assured him. 

Kallus let out a chuckle and then was sliding into his space to give him an easy kiss; and wasn’t that a new, novel thing. Zeb pulled him in and deepened it before he could pull away. When he finally released him, Kallus was out of breath. 

“It's kiss and tell, not yell,” Kallus still managed to say. 

“Okay, but anyone would be yelling after a kriffin’ that good,” Zeb purred and reached down to knead into the meat of his ass. The agent winced slightly but was also leaning into his touch. 

“Much better than a prosthetic, for sure.” Kallus kissed him again, lingering before finally stepping away to kick back on his boots. 

Zeb internalized the urge to pull him back and ask him to think of him when he used it again, when he gave in to his needs alone in his bunk. Actually there were a whole bunch of things he wanted to have him do, but he knew better than to even fantasize about that right now. He didn't know when or if he was going to see or touch him ever again. And he sure didn't have the right to expect anything like a kriffing relationship, for Ashla's sake. 

It was a dangerous line of thinking, and Zeb flicked his ears as if he could swat them away from his head for real. 

“We should have half an hour more to vacate the area before security comes back up, but I will head up to the control tower to be sure.” Kallus walked with him to the edge of the cluster of crates. “I guess this is farewell once again.” 

“Offer still stands, by the way. We’ll treat you fairly,” Zeb said before he could stop himself. 

“I know,” Kallus replied, a weight to those two little words, so much being said without being said at all. “Goodbye, Zeb.”