One Single Tear
by Antigone


The room, though not large, was well-appointed. Majors, even Rebel Majors, ranked high enough to get nice quarters all to themselves. To the right was the door to the ‘fresher unit; the door to the bedroom was on the far wall. The man headed straight for it. That was just what he needed, a nap and a shower. Maybe the shower first. Or not. Oh, hell...

The pilot tossed his new black TIE uniform into the closet and collapsed, still clad in his orange flightsuit, on the bed. He rubbed his hands over his eyes as if to wipe away the image that seemed forever burned into them. Wes Janson, his squadmate and friend, floating lifeless in the black sea of space above Distna.

Hobbie still couldn’t believe it. An ambush, a simple ambush. It just showed how, no matter your rank, no matter your experience and intelligence and determination, no matter what, life would find a way to destroy whatever you held dear.

It’s funny, Hobbie thought, I never thought of Wes as that important to me. We’ve been friends for years, we’ve shared quarters, hell, we shared a bed on Hoth.

The Rogue was struck by a sudden memory, one he hadn’t thought of in years. Wes, swaddled in the layers of covers they’d used on the ice planet, with only the tip of his nose visible. Had to have his nose out, no matter how cold it was. They’d started out sleeping back-to-back, with gruff, hasty apologies if any other parts made contact. By the end of the first week, though, they’d invited Zev Senesca to join them and the trio slept like a pile of puppies under the blankets.

Wes and Hobbie had shared a bed a few times after Hoth, too, though not in the same, platonic way. Wes had never been with a man before, but of course Wes hadn’t attended the Imperial Academy as Hobbie had. Three years with little to no female contact would drive any hot-blooded young man into the nearest willing embrace.

Just like after a battle; you tend to fall on the first warm body you find. And Wes was always there. They never spoke of their-post combat coupling, not out of shame, but because it didn’t seem important enough to discuss. It happened, as it did to so many men, and that was that. Nothing else changed.

Nothing except the way he looked at me in the quiet moments afterward, like I was the center of the galaxy. It didn’t last, of course, but in those few heartbeats, I could swear I saw... but it doesn’t matter now.

The door buzzer sounded and Hobbie reached for his blaster. Cautiously, he entered the sitting room and approached the main door.

"Who is it?"

"It’s Wedge." The voice paused as Hobbie sighed deeply. He really didn’t want to chat with his commanding officer. "C’mon, Hobbie, open up."

Something in his voice... less like General Antilles than just plain old Wedge.

He pushed the controls and the door slid open, revealing a slumped, bleary-eyed Wedge. Hobbie’s eyes widened and he reached out to take his commander’s arm.

"Sir?"

Wedge winced. "No formalities, please. I can’t deal with it now." His shoulders straightened as he entered the room. "I just wondered how you were doing."

The blonde pilot grimaced. "I’m fine, I suppose. Still in shock."' He gestured toward the sofa and chair. "Have a seat."

Wedge fell into the chair like his legs wouldn’t hold him and rested his head against the cushioned back. Hobbie took the couch, stretching his long legs as he leaned back against the armrest and waited for the other man to speak.

"We’ve lost more than this before," Wedge said quietly. "We lost six at Hoth. Eight at Endor. Hell, we lost ten at Yavin! I just never thought..." his voice trailed off.

A minute passed. Two. Three. Hobbie watched Wedge’s hands tremble as he twisted them together, his face strangely bereft of emotion. The silence stretched out uncomfortably until it felt like a string tuned too tightly on a Corellian lute-- pull it just a little more and it’ll snap in your face.

"I can’t believe he’s gone."

Snap.

"I mean, this is Wes. He’s a good pilot, he’s too good to... to..."

"Die?"

Wedge flinched. "You were so close to him, you understand. I keep expecting that any minute he’ll come strolling in with that poodoo-eating grin of his and I’ll have to keep my eyes open for his next prank. And then I realize that it’s not going to happen. It’s not ever going to happen again."

Hobbie swallowed hard and turned onto his side, resting his head in the crook of his elbow. "You know how, after every battle, he’d jump down from his X-Wing and shout like a nerf-wrangler? I kept listening for that today. I started to wonder if something was wrong, then--" he shuddered.

"Do you remember," Wedge chuckled suddenly, "do you remember that time on Hoth when he filled Luke’s cockpit with snow?"

The pilot nodded enthusiastically. "And we used it to have a snowball fight in the hangar!"

"Until I hit General Riekaan in the face."

The men snickered at the memory of the stoic general, sputtering as he wiped slush off his face.

"And the time he really got into that sim!"

" ‘Time for some payback!’ How could I forget?" Hobbie’s chest tightened even as he forced merriment into his voice.

I remember the way my name sounded on his lips.

"And when that Bothan slapped him?"

"He’s been obsessed with them ever since."

And the dark smudge of his eyelashes laying against his cheek.

"...when Plourr got him in a headlock?"

"And gave him an Ewok head-rub?"

His mouth, sweet against mine, and yielding, always yielding to me-- Wes, who could break me in half with one finger, laying soft and tender, surrendering everything to me.

"He really had me going about that Ewok pilot...”"

"“And then Piggy walked in-- he told me about that..."

Gasping for air, skin flushed as I ride him, one single tear at the corner of his eye, he’s so beautiful, my heart breaks as he calls my name, his back arches and one single tear spills over his cheek.

"Bare-assed, holding that toy in front of him."

"Did Shalla really make him blush? I’ve never seen him blush?" Hobbie tried to shake the images from his brain, but they weren’t easily dislodged.

"He did once before, when the Princess kissed him."

"What?"

"She heard him say that he’d fight a whole wing of TIEs for one kiss. She told him not to be silly, he could have a kiss just for being sweet. He was walking on air for hours afterward."

"Where was I? He never told me that." Hobbie laughed, and it wasn’t forced. "Wait ‘till I see him, I’ll..."

The laughter died abruptly and Hobbie sat upright, his face turning a waxy color that made Wedge wonder if he were ill. The blonde sat cradling his head in his hands, watching the floor spin as though it were as topsy-turvy as the rest of the galaxy. The cushions shifted as someone sat beside him, then squeezed the back of his neck and Wedge’s voice whispered into his ear.

"I know, Hobbie. It’s like that for me, too."

Hobbie’s voice was muffled as he held back tears. "Is it?"

He drew a long, shuddering breath and looked at the Corellian with red-rimmed eyes. "Did you love him?"

Wedge seemed taken aback, but he considered the question carefully. "Yes, I think I did. He was my friend and... and yes, I loved him."

"Did you tell him?"

"No."

Wedge looked away, pain suddenly bright in his brown eyes.

"Neither did I."

The hand on Hobbie’s neck tightened and he leaned into his friend, letting some of the weight roll off his shoulders.

"I... I know that the two of you..." Wedge grappled with the words. "He loved you, Hobbie. He really did. He wanted to tell you..."

"I know." One single tear glistened in his mind’s eye. "I think he tried to tell me once, without saying it out loud. I just... I didn’t want to see it." His stomach churned as he thought of what he’d lost, what he’d almost had, if he’d had the courage to take it. Hobbie bit back a scream and clenched his fists, raising crescent-moon lines of blood on his palms.

The arms enfolding him were strong, comforting; he didn’t resist as Wedge pulled him close. The general’s soft hair brushed his temple as Wedge rested his lips against Hobbie’s ear, his breath warm and tickling.

"It’ll be all right, Hobbie. It will, I promise." Over and over, whispered in his ear until it became a mantra, a prayer.

"It’ll be all right. It’ll be all right." Unceasing breath pulsed against his ear as they sat cheek to cheek, then the lips, still murmuring, moved across his face, along his jawbone, and came to rest a millimeter from Hobbie’s mouth.

Wedge paused and Hobbie closed the distance, crossing that one molecule of air to press their mouths together. It was soft, tentative, just a light brushing of lips and tongue.

They paused, breaths mingling, and Wedge whispered against his comrade’s mouth, "I can never replace him. I won’t even try. But just for tonight..."

"For tonight," Hobbie agreed. "I just want to forget." His voice was low and despairing.

"No," Wedge murmured fiercely. "Not to forget. To live."

The pilot’s answer was lost as his commander kissed him, harder, demanding. Not Wes’ shy, almost chaste kisses. Not a bit like the man Hobbie loved, but that was fine. It would do for tonight, but it would never replace Wes.

He returned the kisses with growing ferocity, his hands gripping the front of Wedge’s flightsuit, pulling their bodies together. The dark-haired man sucked at Hobbie’s lower lip, then licked and nibbled down the column of his throat.

Wedge slid off the sofa and knelt before his pilot. He raised his hands to frame Hobbie’s mournful face and drew his head down for a slow, searching kiss. His tongue ran over the blonde man’s palette, tasting the sweet depths and drawing a low moan from his throat. The muscles in Hobbie’s stomach contracted and he felt the organ between his legs twitch. He groaned into the kiss, massaging Wedge’s neck and shoulders before reaching for the flightsuit zipper.

A warm, strong hand stopped him. Wedge took Hobbie’s hands in his own and brought them to his mouth. His lips pressed against the dark veins on the back, then he turned them over and kissed the palms.

"Just relax." He laid a hand in the center of Hobbie’s chest and pushed until the other man sat back against the cushions, his head resting on the high back of the sofa. Wedge ran his hands down Hobbie’s orange-clad chest and over his legs, pausing to squeeze and massage his inner thighs until the man’s breath quickened and he thrust his hips.

Nimble fingers swiftly unfastened the black boots and slid them off, kneading the balls of Hobbie’s feet. Wedge raised up, resting his hands on his lover’s shoulders. A quick brush of lips, then he jerked the zipper down in a swift, violent movement.

Struggling with the zipper, laughing nervously as I take his face in my hands... "It’s all right, Wes, we have all night."

Hobbie gasped as Wedge ripped the thin fabric of his undershirt and attacked his chest, alternating nips and licks. His tongue flicked out to tease Hobbie’s flat nipples, then laved the pale puckered skin on his ribs, the souvenir of an untreated blaster burn. The blonde pilot pushed Wedge’s dark head away long enough to struggle out of the sleeves of his flightsuit and discard his ruined undergarment.

"Lift your hips," Wedge demanded, his voice rough and greedy. The orange material pooled around Hobbie’s ankles and Wedge stared in amusement at his black silk boxers.

"Those aren’t standard issue, Major," he said, a trace of humor in his voice.

"No, sir." Hobbie smiled slightly. "But I hadn’t intended for you to see them." Wedge cut off any further comment by running his hands up the inside of Hobbie’s thigh to the tent in his boxers. As Hobbie arched and sighed, the General pulled the waistband down and gently lifted his swollen cock out.

Touching me, stroking me as I lay back on the bed, watching my face as if he weren’t sure what to do.

A slow smile spread across Wedge’s face as he examined this new delight. Long and thick, its tip glistened with droplets of moisture. The Corellian slid the silk further down his companion’s leg, ignoring the throbbing shaft as he buried his nose in Hobbie’s bristly blonde nest of hair.

Hobbie moaned and gritted his teeth as Wedge teased him, his lips a millimeter above the turgid organ, blowing warm puffs of air across his skin. His hand slipped between Hobbie’s legs to cup and fondle the heavy sac, his fingers lightly tickling its surface as the pilot whimpered.

At long last, his lips made contact, barely touching the base of Hobbie’s cock then moving higher ever so slowly, sometimes pausing to suck tiny bits of flesh into his mouth. Hobbie looked down and brushed Wedge’s hair away from his face as the Corellian worked his way to the head. The sight of Wedge’s lips against his rigid member sent chills up Hobbie’s spine and the flames in his belly spread outward, burning away all thought.

"Just like that, oh god... Wesssss..."

Wedge’s soft pink tongue darted out, collecting the nectar at the tip of Hobbie’s cock. Pulling back, he let a strand hang between his tongue and the now-engorged source of this liquid. It glistened in the light as Wedge let the moment stretch out. Hobbie’s chest heaved and his hands clenched the sofa cushions as he watched in anticipation.

Then it came, as he knew it would-- Wedge’s hungry, gobbling mouth enveloped his flesh, making him arch and writhe and beg. The warm wet of Wedge’s tongue swirled over the head, tasting the salty pre-ejaculate. Hobbie’s fingers tangled in Wedge’s hair, forcefully guiding him along as he bobbed up and down.

The way he purred when I pushed his hair back and stroked his cheek... the way he looked at me...

The General’s hand closed around Hobbie’s shaft, gently squeezing and releasing as his tongue traced the ridge of flesh below the head. His lips closed around the head, sucking almost too gently as his tongue fluttered over the sensitive flesh. Hobbie groaned and thrust his hips forward, trying to force Wedge to take him deeper. The exhilarating tingles raced up and down his cock, tightening the skin over his balls, making him throw his head back and shout for joy.

And it happened. He thrust. Wedge took him deep, deeper than Wes had ever managed, and Hobbie felt the sensation of Wedge’s throat closing around him. He involuntarily jerked on Wedge’s hair, and the Corellian looked up, eyes blazing into Hobbie’s. The blonde pilot gasped as he saw dark hair falling over blue eyes, over soft, shining blue eyes.

Wedge blinked and the illusion was gone. His brown eyes stared up as Hobbie jerked and spasmed, body consumed by the flames of pleasure.

And as he released, one single tear rolled down his cheek.


Finis


Back to Antigone's fic