Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wooley felt the shuttle give the faintest of shudders beneath his feet, a clear signal that they had left hyperspace. The others must’ve realised that as well, all of them perking visibly, heads turning when the speakers turned on, followed by their pilot’s cheerful voice.

“Alright, troops, we’ve got the Negotiator in sight! We’ll be landing in five minutes, so if you leave anything behind, that’s your loss and our gain.”  

Wooley snorted, and he could see a few troopers rolling their eyes, the familiar tilt of their helmets quite telling. Everyone knew that when it came to pilfering anything that even seemed to be left behind, the only thing worse than the GAR’s pilots were Jawas. Once his backpack was securely sealed and resting against his back, Wooley and the seven other troopers moved to stand in two lines as they waited for the shuttle to finish landing procedures, the scent of fresh paint lingering in the recycled air as the newest ARC troopers of the 212^th Attack Battalion prepared to join their General again.

“You know,” Obi-Wan drawled from his spot next to Cody, sounding every bit like the Jedi he’d been raised to be, but Cody knew the truth, saw it in the faint, amused curl of the man’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before, Cody.”

Tilting his head enough to change the angle of his visor, Cody gave Obi-Wan the ‘Not Impressed’ stare that every clone knew by heart. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” he replied, dry as Tatooine.  

Obi-Wan, the bastard, only smiled more openly. “I can sense your elevated heartbeat,” he commented.

“That’s pure nerfshit. If you could sense my “elevated” heartbeat, you’d stop offering yourself as bait for the enemy and I’d have far less grey hair.”

Cody ignored the way Obi-Wan laughed softly, his attention on the shuttle that had just touched down in the hangar. Behind him and the Jedi, a dozen troopers stood in formation, all of them having someone precious to them inside that shuttle, eager to welcome their brothers back.

And Cody felt the same excitement.  

The sealed doors of the shuttle cycled open, revealing two ARC troopers standing side by side as they started to walk down the ramp, followed by six more. The gold-yellow of the 212^th Battalion decorated their armor in a level of individualism only a few dared to show so openly.

Cody knew all of them by their names and had a good guess who was who, but still his eyes scanned the approaching ARCs, trying to locate Wooley among them. His lover had been very tight-lipped about his plans for his new armor when Cody had asked about it during one of their late night comm calls.

“You’ll know when you see,” Wooley had merely said, winking.

The first pair stopped in front of Cody and Obi-Wan, standing at attention, the second settling next to them, and that’s when Cody saw Wooley. The younger clone had been right; the moment Cody saw, he knew.

Next to him, Obi-Wan murmured, impressed, under his breath, “Well, now that’s bold.”

Wooley’s helmet was the same as it had been before he left, the crest on top of it painted instead of white, but as Cody’s eyes travelled down from the new pauldrons and chest armor to the heavy kama that shifted with each measured step, he couldn’t help but swallow, throat dry.

The left pauldron was dark grey while the right was a mix between black and 212^th’s gold-yellow, the lines painted in a curve similar to the tattoo that spiraled up and around Wooley’s right arm.

But the pauldrons weren’t what caused Cody’s pulse to quicken, it was the kama. The base color was black with a thick band of gold-yellow following the edges, but right beneath Wooley’s utility belt were two inverted versions of the sun that decorated Cody’s chest armor. And they weren’t small copies, either, but nearly the same size as the original, which, as Obi-Wan had said, was very bold.  

Thank the Force Cody was wearing his helmet because his eyes were as big as droid poppers, and he was quite certain his jaw was hanging.

The new ARC troopers stood in formation before Obi-Wan and Cody, all eight saluting smartly before relaxing at the Jedi’s command of at ease. Obi-Wan spoke some more but Cody was unable to hear a single word over the sound of his blood rushing, each passing second spent staring at the kama stoking the fire that had lit up within Cody.

Wooley had effectively marked himself as Cody’s, but it could also be seen the other way around, that Wooley had claimed Cody as his, a thought that affected Cody a lot more than he would’ve guessed.

He managed to gather himself just in time for Obi-Wan’s finishing words.

“ – the Commander and I have issued you all leave until the day after tomorrow,” the Jedi said with a smile, “and once more, congratulations.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Cody, his smile turning into a mischievous grin before he left the hangar, knowing his men would relax more once he was out of their sight, the deeply ingrained rules still hampering certain aspects of comradery.

Sighing softly, Cody took a step forward, letting his eyes scan the soldiers. “You heard the General, so enjoy your free time and don’t cause too much havoc,” Cody spoke, smiling a little. “Dismissed,” he commanded before turning to follow after Obi-Wan, or at least to make it look like he did.

Because as soon as he could, Cody slipped into a lift that took him to one of the observation decks that was currently closed for repair. He sent his location to Wooley before the lift door had even closed, the fire smoldering within him sending sparks of excitement all over Cody’s body. Force, Cody had no idea what he was going to do when Wooley got here, but he needed the other clone, that was clear at least.

Tugging his helmet off, Cody dropped it carelessly onto the console and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes but the moment he did so, Cody recalled the double suns resting against Wooley’s thighs, protecting him.

Swallowing, Cody leaned heavily against the console and settled in to wait.

Wooley hadn’t looked away from Cody from the moment he had spotted the older clone standing next to the General, trying his best to get any hint of reaction. Sadly, Cody was a trained soldier to the bone, and his posture betrayed nothing as he stood in perfect parade rest.

It was only when his comm pinged, that Wooley knew he had achieved his goal. The message was very short and straight to the point.

Observation deck 12-Cresh.

Feeling more than a little gleeful, Wooley hastened his steps, weaving through the little groups of vode celebrating in the hangar. He exchanged a few words with some troopers, dodged a friendly punch to the shoulder from Longshot and punched him instead, laughing when the other complained dramatically about the supposed pain and how Wooley “should control those new ARC muscles of his”.

Finding the lift, Wooley darted in with a flick of a kama. Inside, he took off his helmet, tucking it under his arm while using his free hand to ruffle his slightly flattened warhawk. It had been almost three months since he’d seen Cody live instead of through a holocomm, and while they had managed to sneak in some nice mutual blaster maintenance during those talks, Wooley was itching for actual physical contact.

The lift’s door slid open and Wooley had barely stepped into the dim observation deck when he caught sight of Cody staring right at him, the intensity of his gaze nailing Wooley in place.

The older clone was leaning against one of the consoles, clearly having placed himself so that he had an unobstructed view of the lift, and, as Wooley watched, Cody slowly pushed himself up, approaching.

Now, Wooley had witnessed the way Cody moved through the battlefield, his body just another weapon that he had mastered, every move executed in the most precise manner to cause the biggest harm to the enemy.

So, when Cody approached Wooley, his heavy, measured steps echoing in the empty room, his gaze dark with intent, it sent a shot of thrill down his spine. 

They were maybe three feet apart, when Cody surged forward. Wooley gasped in surprise when his back suddenly hit the lift, helmet falling and loudly hitting the floor as Cody trapped him against the closed door. Eyes wide, Wooley watched the open hunger in Cody’s eyes as the older clone leaned closer, warm breath washing over his lips.

“Do you have any idea?” Cody asked heatedly, roughly palming one of the inverted suns, and Wooley felt a flash of glee as he realised that Cody was losing it because of him. “Any idea at all, what it does to me to see you carry my mark like that?”

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Wooley replied, aiming for cheeky but coming out breathless.  

The hand on his kama tightened its hold, curling tightly around the thick material, and Wooley surrendered to the kiss before he fully even realised that Cody had captured his mouth. The older clone bit Wooley’s bottom lip, the sting making him groan in pleasure, hands scrabbling to grab Cody, to pull him even closer so Wooley was firmly pinned against the lift door.

He felt Cody’s other hand follow the first one, covering the other sun. For a second Wooley thought Cody would lift him up but instead the other clone stroked the markings, the double motion a combination of reverence and possessiveness.

Kriff, Wooley had thought Cody would like his kama, but he hadn’t expected him to like it this much.

Cupping the back of Cody’s head, Wooley curled his fingers around the neat curls and tugged at them hard enough to make Cody break the kiss with a low gasp. Instead of easing his hold, Wooley pulled until Cody had to tilt his head back, not even fighting against it. It made Wooley lick his lips as he watched Cody’s throat shift when he swallowed.

“I have to ask, Cody,” Wooley purred, leaning closer to mouth along the edge of the blacks, feeling Cody’s pulse against his lips, “is it the fact that I’ve marked myself as yours that’s got you so worked up? Or is it because now everyone knows who you belong to?”

He leaned slightly back just in time to see the way Cody flushed at the question, eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled shakily. “Both,” Cody replied with a gasp, “it’s both.”

The breathless admission had Wooley groaning and he used his grip to pull Cody’s face down, smashing their mouths together. He licked into the older clone’s mouth, teasing Cody’s tongue and tracing his teeth, and Cody sagged against him with a high-pitched moan. Never once did he let go of Wooley’s kama, his hold actually tightening enough to make the thick fabric groan in protest.  

They kept making out for several minutes and at some point, Wooley switched their positions, trapping Cody against the closed door, heels up from the floor The careless, effortless, manhandling had Cody’s pulse skyrocketing, the armor starting to feel really uncomfortable against his hard on.

“How about we move this somewhere else? Like your quarters?” Wooley suggested, lips swollen and shiny with spit. His pupils were blown wide, and Cody knew his weren’t any better. “Since you like the idea of me wearing your mark, I think it should only be fair for you to wear some of mine. Do you like the sound of that?”

Cody tipped his head back, knocking it against the metal as he nodded shakily.

“Good,” Wooley purred, and Cody felt himself being lowered back down onto the floor.

Reluctantly, Cody let go of Wooley and after a couple of deep, steadying breaths, he unglued himself from the door in order to pick up his helmet. “On me, trooper,” Cody said, sounding far huskier than normally, and he caught sight of Wooley’s wicked grin before it disappeared beneath the younger clone’s helmet.

“Sir, yes sir,” Wooley replied, clicking his heels together with a crisp salute, looking every bit like the deadly ARC trooper he now was.

Fuck, Cody hoped no one would stop them, because with the way his blood burned as he gave one final look at the gold-yellow markings on the black kama, he didn’t know what he’d do.