“Bro?” you ask, reaching up to rap on his forehead with your knuckles. Somehow your hand just tangles itself all up in his fine-ass hair and you sort of yank and turn and then two of you are kissing. It’s sloppy and hot and awkward, the angle all wrong and neither one of you used to each other at all, but when he gets your lip between his dull choppers and bites until you’ll bruise it’s just about motherfucking perfect.

“How you feeling, sir?” he asked, eyeing his General. They’d, at least, managed to all evac back to the shuttles without losing anyone, leaving the noxious-smelling laboratory where they’d found a pack of Seppy scientists working on new biological weapons behind. “I’ll be fine, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, without opening his eyes, his voice thick and hoarse. “But comm ahead, would you, and make sure the medics are ready for me.” OR, the one were Obi-Wan gets dosed with an especially nasty toxin, and Cody helps him survive the following hours.