Nipple

by

Boots

He missed a tie, a corner of his tunics was crooked, and from where I sat at my desk, I could see a nipple.

A pale pink nipple, innocently peeking from underneath his soft off-white tunics as he read his data-pad. And unlike all the times when I've seen him look well before, seen him naked and vulnerable, flirting and precocious, I' ve never seen him as desirable. But I do now.

I lean back in my chair slightly, to catch sight of more of that small patch of colour on his clean chest. And then he looks up and catches my eyes. I bat my lashes, I give an embarrassed cough, I strike the keys on my pad until he smirks at me and says, his voice a little croaky as we've been quietly studying for a while "Can I borrow your sash tonight? Mine's misplaced."

He came home later that night and draped the sash on my door knob, when I woke up in the morning it gave me a scare. It was red against my white door. He made my room look like a wedding chamber.

I contemplated that nipple as I took lunch in the cantina, sucking soft soya cream through my teeth, I thought I could taste it. I murdered my roses between my finger-pads to try and see how it would feel. Shoulder by shoulder as we watched the sunset, I looked desperately for the same soft shade of pink in the sky. Until he grew uncomfortable in the dew.

If only I was half the man the galaxy seems to think I am, I would have asked him for a touch of the nipple that night. As he bade me good sleep, with a chaste kiss on the forehead.

As we sparred, I thought of the nipple rubbing against fabric. Probably hardened with adrenalin. Perhaps gleaming with sweat?

He was spinning around my saber. I missed a parry and seared the training saber through his tunics. A burn across his nose, a score over the left cheek and a circular bite beneath the nipple.

My hands shook, they jerked sporadically as I pulled away the burnt material. Bits of blackened fibre stuck to the hurt flesh, and I had to blow onto the wound. He lied still underneath me, the grey training mat beneath him. And I thought the Force was standing still, waiting for me to suck on the nipple.

Still whole, but red now, standing in a nub of tensed nerves teased by pain.

I would have a feel of it, now, if it costs me my life.

I groan silently in the shower cubical. Eyes squeezed shut and leaking underneath the shower head.

He had looked up at me, confused. I was trying to find my centre, to no avail. I pressed my fingertip on his tender wound and the healing Force refused not come. I tried again, jabbing into him hard enough to bruise, had he not been already. He glanced over my face quizzically, I can hear the motion of thoughts behind the deep pools of blue.

And so, I fled here, where I can be locked up and hosed down. The cold water sleuthed over me. The doors are closed and set not to open even though he is knocking urgently. And he calls my name and he begs me to tell him things.

"Are you.thinking about it.I thought you were.I never thought you would.I can't believe this.I love you." he said. ".celibate.I sleep with men.every night.how can you still.love me."

The large stubborn door yielded easily to a small clamp and short-wired. Opening with a hiss. He came in and picked me up from the tiled ground. He held me in his warm arms, the sleeves soaked as my hair dripped over them.

"Please," I sobbed, scenting his nipple. "You can tie me up whenever you like. You can hold me down as it pleases you. Let it be me. Padawan, let it be me."

His eyes were wide and his chest heaved. He glared at me with astonishment.

"I just wanted you to know," I stuttered. "My heart's in it now, I'd like to, for you, with you."

He looked at me appraisingly for another moment. Then he clutched me in a fierce hug. And he took my hand and guided it to touch his nipple as he began to suck on my earlobe.

"Was driving me crazy, this thing," he mumbled as he licked the cool lobes. "Only thing I think about all day long."