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Fox was in pain, as usual. The Chancellor hadn’t done anything that Fox could remember, but there was time missing from his guard shift the day before, and his whole body had been aching by the time he made it back to his bunk. The Undercity riot that morning certainly hadn’t helped. But there was nothing Fox could do except return to the Chancellor’s office for his next shift and pray to the Little Gods for patience and strength.
At least he had something to look forward to after this shift. The 212th — and their General — had arrived on-planet that morning, though Fox hadn’t had time to greet them before he needed to report to his post. But he’d have plenty of time after. He just needed to get through this first.
He arrived at the office, knocked twice, waited precisely three seconds, then entered.
And froze.
The Chancellor — or what was left of him — was on the floor. More specifically, his torso was by his desk, his legs had fallen near his chair, and his head seemed to have rolled to a stop next to the potted plant by the window, eyes still wide with shock.
That wasn’t what drew Fox’s attention, though.
No, that honor went to the man standing behind the now-dead Chancellor’s desk, idly rifling through files with an almost bored expression.
The man looked up before Fox could say a thing. Eyes Fox did and didn’t recognize softened as he smiled.
“Fox. Just in time.”
Fox stepped forward, his own eyes stuck to the radiant yellow-gold that had replaced sea storm blue. He removed his helmet, just to be sure his HUD wasn’t malfunctioning. It wasn’t.
“Obi-Wan? What…”
“I fixed the problem.” Obi-Wan stepped around the desk and strode forward until he was in arms reach, then offered a hand. Fox took it without hesitation and allowed Obi-Wan to pull him forward, until there was barely an inch of space between them. “The Chancellor was a Sith, playing both sides of the war. So I killed him.”
“You…” Fox trailed off, trying to find the words to express his racing thoughts and pounding heart. When he couldn’t, he gave up on speaking, fisted a hand in Obi-Wan’s robes, and dragged him into a kiss. Obi-Wan hummed happily against his lips and allowed him to control it, still gripping Fox’s hand tight.
“Fuck,” Fox breathed against his lips, voice trembling with the flood of awe and devotion rushing through him. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
Obi-Wan smiled and pressed another kiss to the corner of Fox’s mouth. “I love you too, my darling.
“Now,” he kissed the other corner, “we have business to take care of.”
“Business?” Fox tilted his head, intrigued.
“Business,” Obi-Wan echoed with a resigned sigh. “Unfortunately, ruling the galaxy will require quite a lot of that.”
It took longer than Fox liked for him to process that statement, his head still spinning from the sight of a dead Chancellor and warm yellow eyes. “You’re going to take over? Thought you didn’t like politics. And it’s gonna take a hell of a lot of that to get everyone to agree to follow you.” Despite his words, calculations and plans were already whirling through his mind. If Obi-Wan wanted to rule, Fox would make it happen, no matter what.
He was pulled out of his head when Obi-Wan fondly kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re right, I do hate politics. But I do believe convincing everyone will be made quite a bit easier with the whole of the GAR at my back.”
Fox laughed, delighted. “Ah, that’s what Cody has been so busy with lately, huh? How long have you been planning this, cyar’ika?”
“Quite a while,” Obi-Wan admitted, red dusting his freckled cheeks. “I wanted to have everything in place. I didn’t want to risk anything going wrong.”
“Really? And you didn’t think to contact me for help? Should I be offended?” Fox squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand to show that he was teasing. He trusted his cyar’ika to have a good reason for excluding him until now.
Obi-Wan chuckled and squeezed back. His eyes’ change in color didn’t detract from the soft warmth they held when Obi-Wan looked at Fox. “I wanted it to be a surprise. A gift, you could say.”
“Oh?” Fox raised an eyebrow. “A gift? Is there a special occasion? Don’t tell me I forgot our anniversary.”
“No, of course not, my darling. There’s no special occasion. Not yet, anyways.” Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. So they were playing that game, were they? Alright then.
“Okay, Obi, I’ll bite.” Fox flashed his canines for emphasis. “What’s the occasion?”
Obi-Wan pressed another kiss to Fox’s lips, this one soft and brief, but no less loving. When they parted, Obi-Wan nipped his bottom lip, then whispered, “Our marriage. That is, if you say yes.”
Fox sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back enough to see Obi-Wan’s face. He searched carefully and found nothing but truth and love. Not that he expected any different, of course. “This is a proposal, then?”
“No,” Obi-Wan squeezed his hand, then sank down onto one knee and offered up a lightsaber not his own. The Sith’s. “ This is a proposal.”
He tilted his head, a smile playing across his lips, eyes bright and earnest. “What do you say, my Fox? Would you like to rule the galaxy with me?”
Fox took the lightsaber from his hand and examined the hilt with a quiet, thoughtful hum. He thumbed the button to ignite it and it sprung to life with a crackling hiss, illuminating Fox’s face in a shade of crimson that matched his armor.
He looked back down and caught his lover’s stunning yellow eyes with a sharp, gleeful grin.
“ Yes. ”