Work Text:
You woke up and stretched, your hand reaching for the man who had fallen asleep beside you. You frowned when you found his side of the bed was cool.
With a little huff you looked at the empty mattress next to you. A smile crept up your lips as you smelled the caf brewing from your kitchen. Fox did love his caf.
You climbed out of bed and pulled a robe over your sleep clothes. Autumn, or what passed for it on Coruscant, was in the air. You made your way out of the bedroom and toward the delicious smell emanating from the other side of your apartment. You paused in the living room to turn up the thermostat, then turned to watch the man quietly moving around your kitchen.
You thought the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard looked awfully fetching in the pajama bottoms you'd purchased for him as a Life Day gift last year; white fleece dotted with little cartoon fox faces. The black sleep shirt he wore had a matching cartoon fox with a caption that read, "No fox left to give".
The fond smile on your face turned down in a concerned frown as your eyes fell on the bandages circling Fox's arms as he reached for a mug. He had returned to your apartment last night bruised and battered, his armor scuffed and stained with the filth of the lower levels. You had helped him into the shower after divesting him of his armor, then held him in your arms while he shook until he finally fell asleep.
"A face that pretty shouldn't wear such a deep frown," Fox said, startling you from your reverie.
You didn't have to force the returning smile that overtook your lips. You closed the distance between the two of you and leaned against his chest, your ear resting over his heart. Fox set his mug of caf down and wrapped you in his arms.
“Morning, cyare,” Fox murmured.
“Mmm, morning,” you said.
You took a deep breath, inhaling Fox’s scent mingled with the smell of caf. You wanted to stay in this quiet moment forever.
Keeping one arm around you, Fox reached for his caf mug. You allowed him a sip before stealing the mug out of his hand. You hummed in pleasure after taking a gulp.
“Not bad. Could use more creamer though,” you said.
Fox chuckled. “You could make your own.”
“Naw.” You took another drink. “It’s better when it’s stolen.”
Fox tilted your chin up with a finger and captured your lips in a slow, searching kiss.
“You’re right,” he said, close enough that his lips brushed yours. “Much better when stolen.”
You giggled, then threaded your fingers into his silvered curls to pull him in for another kiss.
Several heated minutes later a strident beeping came from your laundry room where you’d put Fox’s armor the previous night. Fox sighed and rested his forehead against yours, his warm, caf scented breath fanning over your cheeks.
“Time to get ready for work,” he said.
He tried to step away, but you caught the front of his sleep shirt.
“I don’t think I can let you go into work today.” You kissed the fox on his chest. “I wouldn’t have any Fox left if you went away.”