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star-wars-writing · 8 months

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Espresso and Empathy

A/N: Thank you for stopping by to read this tale of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody. Set in the modern world, this story explores the unfolding relationship between a history professor and a coffee shop owner. I hope you enjoy this journey of discovery and connection written for the @codywanbingo with the prompt: "Air kisses".

"The Jedi's Brew" stood as an oasis of warmth and charm amidst the steel and glass of the bustling city. As one stepped through its antiquated wooden door, they were greeted by an alchemy of aromas – the rich, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans melding harmoniously with the sweet whispers of cinnamon and vanilla from freshly baked pastries. This olfactory tapestry was not just a mere welcome, but an invitation to leave the world behind, even if just for a coffee cup's time.

Inside, the ambiance was a delicate balance of comfort and elegance. The walls, painted in a soothing palette of deep blues and warm browns, were adorned with vintage star maps and framed quotes from poets and philosophers alike, each piece a nod to a universe far beyond the city’s confines. Soft, ambient lighting spilled from overhead, casting a gentle glow that seemed to slow the passage of time itself.

Furniture in "The Jedi's Brew" was a curated collection of mismatched chairs and tables, each with its own story to tell. Some were sturdy oak pieces that seemed to have grown from the floorboards themselves, while others were cozy armchairs upholstered in velvet, offering a hug to any weary traveler. The arrangement of these pieces created intimate nooks and crannies, making the space feel both expansive and invitingly close.

At the heart of the shop, the coffee bar stood as a proud altar to the art of coffee-making. An antique espresso machine, polished to a shine, hissed and puffed like a gentle dragon, crafting liquid magic cup by cup. Jars of coffee beans from around the world lined the shelves behind, each label a promise of a new adventure for the palate.

The air in "The Jedi's Brew" was alive with the soft murmur of conversations – a tapestry of stories, laughter, and sometimes, comfortable silences. It was a place where time seemed to relent, where the city’s heartbeat slowed to match the rhythmic drip of coffee. The shop's large windows framed the bustling outside world, yet inside, they offered a serene vantage point, a quiet observer's haven.

Above all, it was the sense of belonging that made "The Jedi's Brew" enchanting. It was in the way the shop seemed to embrace each customer, in the unspoken understanding that here, amidst the steam and whispers, one could find a moment of peace, a piece of home. This small, unassuming coffee shop was not just a place; it was an experience, a sanctuary for the soul amidst the symphony of city life.

****

Commander Cody, the owner and barista of "The Jedi's Brew," was the lifeblood of the establishment, a man whose military precision was softened by the warmth of his smile. Clad in a crisp apron, his movements behind the counter were a study in efficiency – each turn, each press of the espresso machine, executed with the exactness of a well-rehearsed drill. Yet, his eyes sparkled with an amiable light, his voice carrying a tone that was both commanding and comforting.

The coffee shop was not just his business; it was his passion, a project born from the desire to create a space where warmth met quality, where every patron felt like a welcomed guest in his home. Cody’s brothers, Rex, Wolffe, Ponds, Fives, and Echo, were his comrades-in-arms in this endeavor, each bringing their unique personality to the mix, turning the coffee shop into a vibrant tapestry of brotherhood and camaraderie.

Their banter was a delightful undercurrent to the shop's atmosphere. Rex, with his quick wit, often sparred verbally with Wolffe, whose dry humor was as subtle as it was sharp. Ponds, the peacemaker, would interject with a diplomatic quip, while Fives and Echo, the youngest, injected a dose of youthful energy, their laughter ringing out like chimes.

Cody, the eldest, balanced his role as leader and brother with a natural ease. He guided with a gentle hand, his instructions to his brothers clear but kind. The respect they held for him was palpable, a testament to their shared past and unspoken bond forged through years of shared experiences, both in and out of the military.

As Cody interacted with his brothers, there was a sense of a well-oiled machine, a unit that functioned seamlessly, each brother an integral cog. Yet, beyond the efficiency, there was love – a deep, abiding affection that resonated in their jests, in the way they moved around each other, anticipating needs and gestures with the familiarity of a dance long practiced.

The customers, regulars and newcomers alike, were drawn not just to the quality of the coffee but to the energy of the brothers. They watched, often amused, as Echo playfully dodged a towel thrown by Fives, or as Rex shared a laugh with a customer over a shared love of classic literature, a topic he was surprisingly passionate about.

Cody’s interactions with his patrons were a blend of professionalism and personal touch. He remembered names and orders, asked about their days with genuine interest, and offered a smile that seemed to say, “You’re among friends here.” His leadership was not just in running the shop but in creating a space where everyone felt a sense of belonging.

In quieter moments, Cody’s gaze would sweep over his shop, a look of pride lighting up his features. This was more than a business; it was a manifestation of his dreams, a place where the rigor of his military life met the warmth of his desire to connect with people. He saw every cup of coffee not just as a product, but as an extension of himself, a gift of comfort to whoever held it.

The dynamic in "The Jedi's Brew" was a delicate balance between order and warmth, a reflection of Cody and his brothers – men who had seen much, served much, but had found their peace in the simple yet profound act of serving others, one cup at a time.

****

In the tranquil cocoon of "The Jedi's Brew," where the symphony of coffee aromas and hushed conversations wove a tapestry of calm, Obi-Wan Kenobi found his haven. He entered with the ease of a regular, his presence a familiar and comforting addition to the shop's ambiance. The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing his arrival, yet it was his serene aura that truly marked his entry.

Obi-Wan, clad in his usual attire of a tweed blazer – the elbows worn from years of leaning over countless books – and a neatly knotted scarf, moved with a quiet grace. His hair, peppered with silver, spoke of wisdom and a life dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, while the gentle lines etched around his eyes told of years spent smiling at the wonders of the past.

He selected his usual spot, a secluded corner by the window, where the light was just right – not too harsh, not too dim – perfect for delving into the depths of ancient history. As he settled into his favored armchair, a sigh of contentment escaped him, a silent acknowledgment of the shop's embrace.

Around him, the soft murmur of the shop continued. Patrons, each absorbed in their own worlds, cast occasional glances towards the professor, their eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and respect. To them, Obi-Wan was a figure of intrigue, a staple of the shop's tapestry, as much a part of its charm as the antique espresso machine.

With a gentle touch, Obi-Wan opened his book, an ancient tome on the civilizations of forgotten worlds. His eyes flickered with a spark of excitement, a flame that was ignited anew with each turn of the page. It was in these moments, lost in the echoes of bygone eras, that he felt most alive, his heart beating in tune with the rhythmic turning of pages.

The coffee arrived, brought to his table by a barista with a knowing smile – a silent exchange of pleasantries without the need for words. The cup, a simple white porcelain, was a vessel of warmth, both physical and metaphorical. Obi-Wan wrapped his hands around it, feeling the heat seep into his skin, a grounding reminder of the present.

As he sipped his coffee, his gaze occasionally wandered beyond the window, where the world rushed by in a blur of color and light. Yet, in his quiet corner, time seemed to stand still. He was a solitary island in the midst of life's relentless river, a thinker amidst the doers.

Obi-Wan's thoughts often drifted as he read. Today, they meandered to the parallels between the ancient tales he cherished and the modern world outside. He pondered on the cyclical nature of history, on the lessons that time had whispered but humankind had often ignored. In these musings, he found a bittersweet solace, an understanding of the world that both enlightened and burdened.

His solitude, however, was not loneliness. It was a chosen companionship with the past, a dialogue with the ages. And yet, the warmth of the coffee shop, with its soft hum of life, provided a gentle anchor to the present, a reminder that while he might roam the corridors of history in his mind, he belonged to the here and now.

In "The Jedi's Brew," Obi-Wan was not just another customer. He was a silent guardian of stories, a keeper of wisdom, nestled in his corner with his coffee and his books, a bridge between the past and the present.

***

In the harmonious realm of "The Jedi's Brew," the interactions between Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were like the subtle yet essential notes in a symphony, each adding depth and richness to the melody of the coffee shop's daily life.

One such morning, as the first light of dawn painted the city in hues of amber and gold, Obi-Wan, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of a man at peace with his solitude, approached the counter. Cody, already in the rhythm of his morning tasks, looked up and greeted him with a nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile that spoke of recognition and respect.

"Good morning, Professor," Cody said, his voice carrying the warmth of a seasoned host. "The usual, or are you feeling adventurous today?"

Obi-Wan, placing his worn leather satchel on the counter, returned the smile. "I think I'll stick with the usual, Cody. Although, your 'adventurous' blends have never disappointed."

As Cody prepared his coffee, the rich aroma filling the space between them, their conversation meandered effortlessly from the mundane to the meaningful. They spoke of the weather, the crispness of the autumn air, and how it reminded Obi-Wan of the changing leaves in the gardens of the university.

"The campus must look quite spectacular this time of year," Cody remarked, his hands working deftly to craft the perfect cup.

"It does," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes lighting up with the mention of his beloved university. "There's a certain magic in the air, a sense of anticipation as the students return. It's quite infectious."

Cody handed him his coffee, and their fingers brushed momentarily, a fleeting touch that seemed to linger in the air. "I can imagine," he said, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "You must have quite the collection of stories from your years there."

Obi-Wan, taking a sip of his coffee, savored not just the flavor but the connection the simple beverage represented. "Indeed, I do. And speaking of stories," he added, a playful glint in his eye, "I've just started a fascinating book on ancient galactic civilizations. I think it might be right up your alley."

Cody leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."

As Obi-Wan delved into a brief synopsis of his latest read, his voice a melody of enthusiasm and knowledge, Cody listened intently, his expression a mix of admiration and genuine interest. Their conversation was a dance of words and expressions, a testament to the growing bond between them, one that transcended the usual customer-barista dynamic.

Around them, the coffee shop hummed with its morning routine, but in their shared space at the counter, time seemed to slow, allowing their exchange to unfold in its own sacred tempo. The other patrons, some regulars who had grown accustomed to the professor's presence, cast occasional glances their way, their expressions a blend of curiosity and fondness. To them, Obi-Wan and Cody's interactions were a part of the shop's charm, a human connection that added to the warmth of their favorite haven.

As their conversation drew to a close, with Cody promising to check out Obi-Wan's book recommendation, there was a lingering sense of unspoken words, of stories yet to be shared. Obi-Wan, with a final nod and a grateful smile, retreated to his corner, his coffee in hand, leaving Cody to his duties.

In that moment, as Obi-Wan settled into his chair and Cody returned to his work, there was a shared feeling of contentment, a silent acknowledgment of the unique camaraderie they had cultivated. It was a bond formed over cups of coffee and snippets of conversation, a gentle yet profound connection that was as much a part of "The Jedi's Brew" as the coffee itself.

***

As the days unfurled like the pages of a well-loved book, the walls of "The Jedi's Brew" bore witness to the subtly evolving tapestry of interactions between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody. The coffee shop, with its symphony of aromas and the comforting cadence of familiar routines, had become a stage for a dance of quiet anticipation and unspoken interest.

The crisp morning air was always slightly sweeter on the days Obi-Wan planned to visit the coffee shop. His morning preparations, once a matter of routine, had taken on a new significance. He found himself selecting his tweed jacket and scarf with more care, his reflection in the mirror revealing a hint of expectancy in his eyes.

As he stepped into the coffee shop, the familiar chime of the bell above the door seemed to resonate with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The warm, inviting atmosphere enveloped him, but it was the sight of Cody, behind the counter, that anchored his senses. There was a newfound depth to the way their gazes met; a silent acknowledgement that lingered just a moment longer than necessary, bridging the distance between them.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Cody would greet, his voice a rich blend of warmth and professionalism. There was a light in his eyes, subtle yet unmistakable, that seemed to brighten just for Obi-Wan.

"And to you, Cody," Obi-Wan would respond, his voice carrying an undercurrent of joy he barely recognized in himself. Each visit, each exchange, was like a step closer in a dance he hadn't realized he'd been longing to partake in.

Their conversations began to meander beyond the realms of coffee and weather, delving into territories of personal interests and past experiences. Cody would share anecdotes from his military days, his words painting vivid images of camaraderie and adventure, while Obi-Wan listened, captivated, his historian's mind enthralled by the living history before him.

Likewise, Obi-Wan's tales of academic life, of the wonders and mysteries of ancient civilizations, seemed to fascinate Cody. He listened with rapt attention, his questions thoughtful, prompting Obi-Wan to reveal more of himself than he usually allowed.

As Obi-Wan sipped his coffee in his corner, he found his gaze drifting towards the counter more often than not. He observed Cody's interactions with others, noting the ease and respect with which he treated everyone, yet quietly yearning for the moments when Cody's attention would return to him. There was a warmth in those exchanges that seemed to reach beyond the confines of customer and barista, touching something deeper within.

Even the other patrons began to notice the subtle dance unfolding between the two. Regulars exchanged knowing smiles and fleeting glances, witnessing the growing connection that laced each conversation with an undercurrent of something more. The atmosphere in "The Jedi's Brew" seemed to thrum with the quiet energy of their budding connection, adding an intangible layer of anticipation to the air.

As the days turned to weeks, Obi-Wan's visits to the coffee shop became the highlights of his mornings. The anticipation of seeing Cody, of engaging in their increasingly personal exchanges, stirred a sense of excitement within him that he hadn't felt in years. It was as if each visit, each shared smile, was a piece of a puzzle he hadn't known he was assembling.

In these moments, in the unspoken language of lingering glances and extended conversations, the foundation of something new and uncertain was being laid. It was a connection that transcended the simplicity of coffee shop banter, hinting at the possibility of something deeper, something that neither Obi-Wan nor Cody had yet dared to define.

***

As autumn deepened, bringing with it a tapestry of russet and gold that draped the city, the days began to shorten, and the evenings at "The Jedi's Brew" stretched longer, more languid and introspective. It was on one such evening, when the sky was a canvas of twilight hues, that Obi-Wan found himself lingering in the coffee shop long after the evening rush had ebbed away.

The shop, usually abuzz with the symphony of daily life, had settled into a quiet lull, the murmurs of the few remaining patrons a soft undertone to the gentle clinking of cups and the subtle whir of the espresso machine. Obi-Wan, ensconced in his usual corner, was lost in a tome of ancient history, the words a gateway to worlds long past.

As the clock hands marched steadily onwards, the patrons trickled out, leaving Obi-Wan and a few solitary figures in their own pockets of quiet. Cody, having handed over the reins of closing to Rex for the night, approached Obi-Wan's table with a relaxed stride, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

"Thought you might need a refill," Cody said, placing the cup before Obi-Wan, his voice a comfortable melody in the quietude of the shop.

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes reflecting a blend of surprise and warmth. "Thank you, Cody. I didn't realize how late it had gotten."

Cody pulled up a chair, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air. "Sometimes, a good book can make hours seem like minutes," he remarked, his gaze briefly flitting over the tome's ancient cover.

Obi-Wan's smile was soft, tinged with appreciation. "Indeed, it can. This one is about the Byzantine Empire. Fascinating period, full of intrigue and artistry."

Cody leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Byzantine, you say? I've always been intrigued by that era. The complexity of their politics, the depth of their culture."

The conversation that unfolded was a tapestry of shared interests and mutual discovery. Obi-Wan spoke of his passion for history, his words painting vivid pictures of empires risen and fallen, of the timeless dance of humanity through the ages. Cody, in turn, shared his own interests, revealing a surprising affinity for classical music, particularly the compositions that had echoed through the halls of history.

"The way music can transcend time and place, it's always fascinated me," Cody said, his eyes reflecting the glow of the shop's ambient lighting. "There's a piece by Beethoven, 'Moonlight Sonata,' that I find particularly moving."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, a gentle understanding lighting his features. "Ah, 'Moonlight Sonata,' a piece both haunting and beautiful. It's remarkable how music can capture the essence of an emotion, a moment in time."

As they spoke, the world outside the coffee shop seemed to recede, leaving only the shared space of their conversation, a bubble where past and present intertwined. The shop's soft lighting cast a golden glow around them, lending an almost ethereal quality to the moment.

Around them, the few remaining patrons began to depart, the gentle chime of the door marking their exits. The shop, now almost empty, felt like a sanctuary, a space where time stood still, allowing their words and thoughts to unfurl in a dance of discovery and connection.

As the conversation meandered from music to history, and then to the more personal realms of hopes and dreams, there was a sense of barriers slowly dissolving, of two souls tentatively exploring the landscape of shared understanding and unexpected kinship.

When the conversation finally waned, a comfortable silence settled between them, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions. It was a silence that spoke of a newfound depth to their relationship, a connection that had transcended the boundaries of mere acquaintance.

In that quiet coffee shop, as the evening whispered its way towards night, Obi-Wan and Cody discovered a kinship that was as surprising as it was welcome. It was a moment of connection that hinted at the possibility of something more, a journey just beginning to unfold.

The evening in "The Jedi's Brew" had wrapped itself in a cloak of tranquility, the kind that only comes when the world slows down, and the moment at hand becomes everything. The conversation between Obi-Wan and Cody, rich with the exploration of shared passions and quiet revelations, had gradually wound down, leaving in its wake a profound sense of connection and a silent acknowledgment of something unspoken yet deeply felt.

Cody, with a glance at the clock, which now showed the hour growing late, reluctantly pushed his chair back, the sound softly echoing in the near-empty coffee shop. "I should get back to closing up," he said, his voice carrying a tinge of reluctance, as if he were stepping out of one world and back into another.

Obi-Wan nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Of course. Thank you for the coffee... and the conversation."

As Cody stood and began to make his way back to the counter, there was a palpable shift in the air, a lingering sense of the words left unsaid, of the emotions that had been gently stirred in the quiet of the evening. The subtle glow of the shop's lights seemed to cast a spotlight on the space between them, highlighting the significance of the moment.

Obi-Wan watched Cody retreat, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and a newfound boldness. In a fleeting moment of courage, spurred by the night's revelations and the comfortable intimacy they had shared, he lifted his hand in a gentle, playful gesture, sending an air kiss towards Cody.

The action, simple yet laden with meaning, hung in the air like a delicate promise, a bridge between their two worlds. Cody, pausing in his steps, turned back to look at Obi-Wan, his expression one of surprise that quickly melted into a smile of genuine pleasure. His eyes, always so expressive, shone with a mix of amusement and a deeper, more tender emotion that had only just begun to surface.

In that smile, there was an acknowledgment of Obi-Wan's gesture, a silent acceptance that spoke volumes. It was a smile that seemed to say, "I see you, and I am here with you." Cody's response, though wordless, was as eloquent as any spoken reply, conveying an understanding and a shared sentiment that transcended the need for language.

The air kiss, a playful yet poignant symbol of their burgeoning connection, marked a turning point in their relationship. It was a step beyond the boundaries of friendship, a toe dipped into the waters of something deeper, something that held the promise of new possibilities.

As Cody resumed his path to the counter, there was a new spring in his step, a lightness that mirrored Obi-Wan's own uplifted spirit. The professor, still seated, allowed himself a moment to bask in the afterglow of their exchange, his heart quietly singing with a joy he hadn't felt in years.

The coffee shop, now steeped in the silence of the approaching night, stood as a witness to the birth of something beautiful, something tentative yet filled with potential. In the quiet exchange of an air kiss, Obi-Wan and Cody had opened a door to a new chapter in their story, a chapter that was yet to be written but promised to be as rich and fulfilling as the aromatic brews of "The Jedi's Brew."

****

In the ensuing days, a subtle yet undeniable change permeated the atmosphere of "The Jedi's Brew." Each interaction between Obi-Wan and Cody, once a casual exchange between patron and barista, now thrummed with a current of unspoken feelings, a silent language understood only by the two of them.

The mornings brought with them a heightened sense of anticipation. For Obi-Wan, the walk to the coffee shop became a journey filled with an eager expectancy, each step bringing him closer to the now-familiar figure behind the counter. His thoughts, once occupied with the day's lectures and academic pursuits, increasingly found their way to Cody – to his smile, his laughter, and the stories yet untold.

Cody, in turn, found himself watching the door more frequently, awaiting Obi-Wan's arrival with an eagerness he had not known before. The sight of the professor, with his scholarly air and thoughtful eyes, became the highlight of his mornings, a moment that set the tone for the rest of his day.

Their conversations, once confined to the realms of coffee and weather, now ventured into deeper territories. Obi-Wan, with a cup of his favorite blend in hand, would often linger at the counter, speaking of his lectures with a passion that was both infectious and endearing.

"Just yesterday, I spoke about the Roman Empire's architectural marvels," Obi-Wan shared one morning, his eyes alight with the fervor of his subject. "It's fascinating to think how their engineering feats still influence us today."

Cody listened, genuinely captivated, leaning in slightly as if each word were a treasure. "I've always admired the way you historians can bring the past to life," he said. "Makes me wish I'd paid more attention in history class."

Their laughter mingled, a shared melody that added warmth to the shop's cozy ambiance.

As the days unfolded, Cody began sharing more of his own experiences. He spoke of his military days, not of the battles and hardships, but of the camaraderie, the places he had seen, and the lessons he had learned. His stories were a tapestry of adventure and resilience, each one revealing a new facet of his character.

"I remember this one time in the desert," Cody recounted, a reflective note in his voice. "The stars were so bright, it felt like we could reach out and touch them. Made us feel small, yet part of something vast and timeless."

Obi-Wan, listening intently, felt a connection to Cody's experiences, a resonance with his own explorations of the past's grand tapestries. Their conversations became a bridge between two worlds – the academic and the practical, the historical and the contemporary.

Around them, the regular patrons of "The Jedi's Brew" began to notice the subtle shift in Obi-Wan and Cody's interactions. There was a new depth to their exchanges, a tenderness that was palpable even in the most mundane conversations. Their laughter seemed richer, their silences more comfortable, and their glances more lingering.

In these moments of shared stories and mutual understanding, the unspoken feelings between them grew stronger, an undercurrent that neither could ignore. It was as if each word, each glance, and each shared smile were threads in a tapestry they were weaving together, a tapestry rich with potential and unexplored possibilities.

As the line between patron and barista blurred, a friendship deepened, blossoming into something that held the promise of more. In the quiet haven of the coffee shop, amidst the aroma of coffee and the soft murmur of conversations, Obi-Wan and Cody were embarking on a journey of discovery, one that was as much about understanding each other as it was about understanding themselves.

****

As the days gently folded into weeks, the walls of "The Jedi's Brew" became the silent custodians of a deepening bond between Obi-Wan and Cody, a bond woven from the threads of shared stories, lingering looks, and a burgeoning understanding that whispered of something more profound.

The crisp mornings saw Obi-Wan, his steps now imbued with a lightness, entering the coffee shop with a sense of anticipation that fluttered like a delicate leaf in the wind. The sight of Cody, his posture a blend of strength and ease behind the counter, became a beacon, drawing Obi-Wan into their shared world of quiet connection.

Their conversations, once a pleasant exchange of academic and military anecdotes, began to traverse the more personal landscapes of their lives. It was during one such morning, as the shop hummed with its usual rhythm of brewing coffee and hushed conversations, that Obi-Wan found himself opening up about his family.

"My family is scattered across the globe," Obi-Wan shared, a wistful note threading through his words. "We don't see each other often. It's mainly emails and the occasional call."

Cody, polishing a coffee cup, paused to look at Obi-Wan, his expression a soft canvas of empathy. "That must be tough," he said gently.

Obi-Wan nodded, a small, reflective smile touching his lips. "It is, at times. But I've found a family of sorts in my colleagues. Plo and Mace, they're more than just fellow professors. They've been my pillars, in a way."

Cody listened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his understanding. "I get that. Sometimes, family isn't just about blood. It's about the bonds we build along the way."

Encouraged by Cody's response, Obi-Wan ventured further, sharing anecdotes about Plo's wisdom and Mace's unwavering support, their personalities painting a picture of a familial bond formed within the hallowed halls of academia.

As the conversation flowed, Cody began to share more about his own family, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and affection. "I have a large family. My brothers and I, we've always been close, but Rex... he's more than a brother. We've been through a lot together, both in and out of the military."

The stories Cody shared about Rex and his other brothers were a vibrant tapestry of laughter, loyalty, and shared experiences. Each tale, whether it was about a childhood prank or a challenging time in the service, was infused with a sense of closeness and profound connection.

Obi-Wan, listening intently, felt a warmth spreading through him, a feeling of being privy to the sacred territory of Cody's personal life. The realization that they were sharing pieces of their worlds, pieces that were not often brought to light, added a new layer of intimacy to their growing friendship.

Their exchanges, rich with the nuances of shared understanding and empathy, began to carry an electric charge of unspoken emotions. The air between them seemed to thrum with the vibrancy of their connection, an invisible thread drawing them closer with each shared story, each knowing glance.

In these moments, as they delved into the realms of family and personal connections, the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fade into a soft blur. The world outside the windows of "The Jedi's Brew" continued its relentless march, but within the warm confines of the shop, time seemed to slow, allowing their bond to flourish in the rich soil of shared experiences and mutual understanding.

Their journey, which had begun as a series of casual interactions, was now evolving into something deeper, a path lined with the potential of unexplored emotions and the promise of a connection that transcended the ordinary. In the quiet sanctuary of the coffee shop, Obi-Wan and Cody were not just a professor and a barista; they were two souls, gradually unveiling the layers of their lives, discovering the profound joy of a connection that was as unexpected as it was welcome.

****

As autumn relinquished its hold to the brisk embrace of winter, the bond between Obi-Wan and Cody continued to flourish, nurtured by their daily interactions at "The Jedi's Brew." It was during this season of change that an opportunity arose for their connection to deepen further, bridging the gap between the coffee shop and the outside world.

One crisp morning, as Obi-Wan lingered over his coffee, he mentioned to Cody about an upcoming public lecture he was giving at the university. "It's on the socio-political impact of trade routes in ancient civilizations," he explained, his eyes alight with the passion he felt for his subject.

Cody, wiping down the counter, looked up with genuine interest. "That sounds fascinating, Obi-Wan. I'd love to come and listen if that's alright with you."

Obi-Wan's expression, initially one of mild surprise, quickly transformed into one of pleased delight. "I would be honored to have you there, Cody. It's this Thursday evening in the main auditorium."

The exchange marked a significant moment, a step beyond the familiar confines of the coffee shop, into a realm that was distinctly part of Obi-Wan's world.

On the evening of the lecture, as the auditorium filled with the hum of anticipation, Obi-Wan stood backstage, feeling an unfamiliar flutter of nerves. His lectures were always well-received, but tonight was different. Tonight, Cody would be in the audience. The thought brought both excitement and a hint of vulnerability.

As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights and sea of faces momentarily disoriented him. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and began to speak, his voice steady and clear. As he delved into the complexities of ancient trade and its far-reaching impacts, he scanned the audience, searching for a familiar face.

There, in the fourth row, sat Cody. His posture was one of attentive interest, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan. The sight of him, present in Obi-Wan's academic world, was both heartening and deeply significant. It was a gesture of support and interest that transcended their morning conversations over coffee.

Throughout the lecture, Obi-Wan found himself speaking not just to the audience, but to Cody. Each point he made, each insight he shared, felt like part of a conversation with him. Cody's presence, a solitary but significant thread, wove through his words, adding depth and meaning to the lecture.

After the applause had died down and the audience began to disperse, Cody made his way to the front. His approach was tentative, respectful of the academic setting, yet his smile was as warm and familiar as it was in the coffee shop.

"That was incredible, Obi-Wan," Cody said, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "I had no idea how intricate those trade networks were. It really opens up a new perspective on how interconnected our world is."

Obi-Wan, his initial nervousness replaced by a glow of satisfaction, responded, "Thank you, Cody. I'm really glad you could be here. It means a lot to me."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various points from the lecture, then meandering to other topics. It was a continuation of the many talks they had shared, yet imbued with a new sense of closeness.

As they walked out of the auditorium together, the crisp night air greeting them, there was a palpable sense of a boundary having been crossed, of their relationship evolving into something richer. The evening was not just about sharing knowledge; it was a sharing of selves, a mutual exploration of interests and worlds.

In attending Obi-Wan's lecture, Cody had not only shown his respect and support for Obi-Wan's passion but had also opened a door to a deeper understanding of the man behind the professor. Likewise, Obi-Wan had welcomed Cody into a part of his life that was deeply important to him, a gesture of trust and connection.

As they said their goodnights, with a promise to talk more over coffee the next morning, there was a sense of unspoken agreement that they were no longer just acquaintances who enjoyed conversation. They were two individuals, each stepping into the other's world, discovering the joy and depth of a connection that was growing more profound with each passing day.

***

The following morning, the ambiance of "The Jedi's Brew" was suffused with its usual blend of warmth and the rich aroma of coffee. However, a subtle shift in the dynamics could be felt, particularly around the counter where Cody and his brothers were engaged in their morning routines.

Cody, lost in thought as he methodically prepared a batch of their signature blend, was jolted back to the present by Rex's teasing voice. "So, brother, how was the evening with the professor?" Rex asked, a playful glint in his eye, as he arranged the freshly baked pastries in the display case.

Cody's cheeks took on a hint of color, a rare show of bashfulness from the usually composed barista. "It was an enlightening lecture," he replied, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone as he focused on the coffee grinder.

Wolffe, overhearing the exchange, joined in with a knowing smile. "Enlightening, huh? I noticed you got back later than usual. You must have been very... enlightened."

The light-hearted ribbing continued, with Fives and Echo chiming in, their voices tinged with amusement and affection. "Maybe we should all attend these lectures if they're that interesting," Echo suggested, his laughter mixing with the clinking of the coffee cups he was setting up.

Cody, while trying to fend off their comments with good-natured retorts, couldn't help but feel a warmth at their teasing. It was a sign of his brothers' care and interest in his life, even if expressed through their characteristic banter.

Amidst the laughter and playful remarks, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the change they had seen in Cody. His frequent glances towards the door, the softening of his expression when he spoke of Obi-Wan's lectures, and the lingering smiles that followed their conversations – all had not gone unnoticed by his observant brothers.

Ponds, who had been quietly setting up the register, added his thoughts in a more reflective tone. "It's good to see you like this, Cody. It's been a while since someone's caught your interest so much."

The comment, though gentle, struck a chord. Cody paused, a moment of introspection crossing his features. It was true; the connection he felt with Obi-Wan was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just admiration for the professor's intellect; it was a deep-seated interest in the man himself, his thoughts, his stories, his very essence.

As the morning rush began, with customers trickling in and the usual buzz of activity enveloping the shop, Cody found himself eagerly anticipating Obi-Wan's arrival. The prospect of their morning conversation, a ritual that had become the highlight of his day, filled him with a sense of excitement that he hadn't felt in years.

The teasing from his brothers, though playful, had shed light on the depth of his fascination with Obi-Wan. It was a realization that was both exhilarating and daunting. As he prepared each cup of coffee, his mind wandered, replaying their conversations, their shared moments, and the subtle yet undeniable connection that had been forming between them.

In the sanctuary of "The Jedi's Brew," amidst the laughter of his brothers and the warmth of the coffee shop, Cody's feelings for Obi-Wan continued to bloom, a gentle yet persistent force that promised to shape the path of his heart in ways he had yet to fully understand.

***

The evening of the university event arrived with a flurry of excitement and anticipation, transforming the usually serene campus into a hub of bustling activity. "The Jedi's Brew" had been chosen to cater the event, a testament to its growing reputation in the city. The coffee shop's team, led by Cody and his brothers, arrived early, laden with equipment and supplies, ready to infuse the event with their signature warmth and quality.

The venue, a grand hall adorned with historic art and elegant decor, buzzed with the chatter of attendees, a mix of professors, students, and guests, all mingling in the sophisticated setting. Amidst this backdrop, Cody and his team set up their station, a beacon of rich aromas and inviting warmth in the corner of the hall.

Obi-Wan, as one of the hosts, was engaged in a whirlwind of greetings and conversations, his role as a professor bringing with it a host of responsibilities and expectations. Despite the demands of the evening, his gaze frequently wandered to the coffee station, seeking out the familiar figure of Cody.

Cody, donning his apron and a professional yet warm demeanor, was the picture of efficiency as he and his brothers served the guests. His movements were a blend of practiced skill and inherent grace, each interaction with attendees marked by his characteristic charm and ease.

Throughout the evening, amidst the serving of coffee and the exchange of pleasantries, Cody's eyes would find Obi-Wan's across the room. These stolen glances, brief yet laden with meaning, were their silent conversations amidst the din of the event. Each eye contact was a shared moment, a subtle smile passing between them, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection they shared.

Obi-Wan, for his part, felt a thrum of excitement each time their gazes met. The event, with all its formalities and duties, faded into the background during these moments, giving way to the unspoken bond he shared with Cody. His heart would skip a beat, a sensation both exhilarating and comforting, as he allowed himself these brief instances of connection.

Cody, in turn, felt a similar rush of emotions. Each glance from Obi-Wan, each subtle smile, was a reassurance, a tether that connected him to the professor despite the night's busyness. It was a reminder of their growing relationship, a promise of conversations yet to be had and moments yet to be shared.

As the evening wore on, the initial buzz of activity gradually subsided, giving way to a more relaxed atmosphere. The guests began to dwindle, leaving the hall in a state of quiet repose. Cody and his brothers started the process of packing up, their movements slower now, tinged with the fatigue of the night's work.

Obi-Wan, seizing the opportunity as the crowd thinned, made his way over to Cody. "You've outdone yourself tonight," he said, his voice a soft blend of gratitude and admiration.

Cody, wiping down the counter, looked up with a tired yet satisfied smile. "It was our pleasure, Obi-Wan. I'm just glad everything went smoothly."

Their conversation, brief due to the lingering guests and the task of cleaning up, was nonetheless rich with the undercurrent of their shared experience. They spoke of the night, of the success of the event, but their words carried a deeper significance, a recognition of the effort and care they had both invested in the evening.

As they said their goodbyes, with promises of catching up soon at the coffee shop, there was a mutual feeling of contentment, a sense of accomplishment not just in the success of the event, but in the strength of the connection they had maintained throughout the busy evening.

The university event, a convergence of their professional and personal worlds, had been another step in the unfolding journey of their relationship. In the midst of their duties and responsibilities, they had found moments of connection, subtle yet profound, that continued to draw them closer, weaving the fabric of their bond ever tighter.

As the event at the university gradually wound down, the grand hall, once aflutter with voices and movement, settled into a quieter rhythm. The remaining guests drifted towards the exits, their conversations fading into soft echoes that danced off the high ceilings and ornate walls. In the coffee-serving area, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves in a pocket of calm, a serene bubble amidst the remnants of the bustling evening.

The area, now devoid of guests, was bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting gentle shadows that played on their faces. The air was still rich with the scent of coffee, a comforting reminder of "The Jedi's Brew" and the many mornings they had shared there.

Cody, who had been methodically cleaning up, paused as he realized they were alone. He looked up at Obi-Wan, standing across the counter, and in that quiet moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings seemed to fill the space between them.

Obi-Wan, leaning slightly on the counter, broke the silence, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that had been carefully restrained. "Cody, these past weeks, our conversations, the time we've spent together... they've come to mean a great deal to me."

Cody, placing the cloth down, met Obi-Wan's gaze with an intensity that mirrored his own. "I feel the same, Obi-Wan. There's something between us, more than just friendship. I've felt it for a while now."

The words, spoken aloud, hung in the air, a tangible admission of the connection they had both been nurturing. The atmosphere, charged with the potential of what lay unexplored between them, seemed to hold its breath.

Obi-Wan, his heart beating a rhythm of hopeful trepidation, continued, "I've found myself looking forward to our mornings together more than I would have expected. There's a... a compatibility, a shared understanding that I haven't found often."

Cody, his usual composure softened by the sincerity of the moment, nodded. "It's rare to find someone who understands you, who connects with you on so many levels. I didn't expect it, but I'm grateful for it, for you."

Their words were a dance of honesty and vulnerability, a delicate exploration of the feelings that had been quietly growing. In the empty coffee-serving area, surrounded by the remnants of the event, they allowed themselves to delve into the heart of their relationship.

"I don't know where this might lead, Cody, but I'm open to finding out, if you are," Obi-Wan said, a note of cautious optimism threading through his words.

Cody, reaching across the counter, briefly clasped Obi-Wan's hand, a gesture laden with meaning. "I am. Whatever this is, whatever it could be, I want to explore it with you."

Their hands parted, but the connection remained, a silent pact sealed in the quiet of the university hall. As they continued to talk, their conversation meandering through hopes and uncertainties, the potential of what lay ahead, they were both acutely aware of the significance of this moment.

The event had ended, but for Obi-Wan and Cody, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with the promise of discovery and the potential of a relationship that had blossomed from shared morning coffees into something deeper, something profound. In the tranquility of the coffee-serving area, they had taken the first tentative steps towards exploring the depth of their connection, embarking on a journey guided by the heart and the quiet promise of a shared future.

In the stillness of the university hall, now empty of all but echoes and shadows, Obi-Wan and Cody lingered in the cocoon of their newfound understanding. The air around them was charged with the electricity of uncharted possibilities, each word they exchanged a step into a future they were now choosing to explore together.

Cody, leaning against the counter, his posture relaxed yet filled with an anticipatory energy, broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "I've always been an early riser, you know, because of the shop. But these past weeks, it's been about more than just coffee. It's been about... us."

Obi-Wan, standing across from him, felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, his heart swelling with a mixture of excitement and a deep, resonant affection. "I've felt the same. Our morning conversations have become the highlight of my day. It's not just the coffee or the history, it's the connection... with you."

Their eyes met, holding each other in a gaze that spoke volumes, communicating the depth of their feelings more eloquently than words ever could. The connection that had blossomed in the familiar confines of "The Jedi's Brew" was now ready to grow beyond those walls.

"I'd like that," Cody said, his voice a soft but firm declaration of his intentions. "To explore what's between us, to see where this path leads."

Obi-Wan's response was immediate, a reflection of his own desire to delve deeper into the bond they had formed. "I would like that very much. There's so much more I want to know about you, so many more conversations I want to have."

The conversation that followed was a gentle weaving of tentative plans and hopeful aspirations. They spoke of simple things – a walk in the park, a visit to a museum, perhaps a meal at a quiet restaurant. Each suggestion was a promise, a commitment to taking the time to understand each other outside the routine of their morning encounters.

As they finalized their plans for their first official outing, a sense of contentment settled over them. It was the kind of contentment that comes from knowing you're on the cusp of something wonderful, something that fills you with both anticipation and a deep sense of rightness.

The evening drew to a close, and as they prepared to part ways, there was a reluctance to end the moment, a desire to linger in the magic of their shared understanding. They exchanged a final, lingering look, a silent promise of all that was to come.

"Goodnight, Cody. I'll see you tomorrow," Obi-Wan said, his voice low and imbued with a warmth that hadn't been there before.

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan. I'm looking forward to it," Cody replied, his smile a reflection of the joy and anticipation that echoed in his heart.

As they walked away from the hall, each to their own thoughts and dreams, the night seemed to embrace them, a witness to the beginning of their journey together. The promise of future dates and shared moments hung in the air, a sweet melody that would carry them forward into a future filled with possibility and the warmth of a connection that had grown from shared cups of coffee into something deeper, something real. In the quiet aftermath of the university event, they had opened the door to exploring their relationship, stepping into a world of shared experiences and moments yet to be cherished.

****

The days following the university event were imbued with a new energy at "The Jedi's Brew." For Obi-Wan and Cody, each interaction was now tinged with the unspoken excitement of their burgeoning relationship. The coffee shop, once a place of casual encounters, had transformed into a space where every glance and conversation was laden with deeper meaning.

It was on a particularly serene evening, when the coffee shop hummed with the soft chatter of the day's last customers, that a new chapter in their story began to unfold. The sky outside was painted in strokes of twilight, the city winding down as the night approached.

As the clock neared closing time, the patrons gradually trickled out, leaving Obi-Wan and Cody in the quiet company of the now empty shop. The air was filled with the lingering aroma of coffee, a comforting backdrop to the significant moment that was about to unfold.

Cody, tidying up behind the counter, cast a glance towards Obi-Wan, who was gathering his belongings. "Would you like to help me lock up?" he asked, a hint of hopeful anticipation in his voice.

Obi-Wan, sensing the significance of the request, nodded with a soft smile. "I'd like that."

Together, they moved through the familiar motions of closing the shop. Cody turned off the espresso machine, its hiss and gurgle giving way to silence. Obi-Wan helped by wiping down the tables, his movements deliberate, a quiet reverence in the simple act of caring for the space that had brought them together.

As they worked, their conversation flowed naturally, touching on the events of the day, their plans for their upcoming date, and the quiet contentment they found in each other's company. The ease between them was a testament to the depth of their connection, a bond that had been strengthened in the shared moments within these walls.

With the last table cleaned and the chairs neatly tucked away, Cody and Obi-Wan made their way to the front door. Cody reached for the key, a simple metal piece that suddenly seemed to hold more weight than usual. He inserted it into the lock, turning it with a decisive click that marked the end of the day's business.

The action, simple yet symbolic, felt like a metaphor for the beginning of their journey together – a journey that was being locked into place, a path they were choosing to walk side by side.

As they stood there, the key still in the lock, they turned to face each other. The soft glow of the streetlights outside filtered through the windows, casting a gentle light that framed their faces.

"Thank you for helping me close up," Cody said, his voice low and sincere.

"It was my pleasure," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes holding Cody's gaze. "It feels different, locking up the shop with you. It feels... right."

In that moment, with the quiet of the shop surrounding them, a profound sense of connection enveloped them. They were on the threshold of something new, a journey that was theirs to explore, filled with the promise of shared experiences and discoveries.

Cody reached out, his hand gently brushing Obi-Wan's. It was a tender gesture, charged with the emotion of the moment. "I'm looking forward to this journey with you, Obi-Wan. To finding out where this path leads us."

Obi-Wan's hand clasped Cody's, a firm yet gentle affirmation of their mutual feelings. "As am I, Cody. As am I."

With a final, lingering look, they stepped out of the shop, locking the door behind them. The night embraced them, a quiet witness to the beginning of their journey together. The shop, now dark and still, stood as a testament to their story, a story that was just beginning to be written under the watchful eyes of the stars above.

****

As Obi-Wan walked home, the cool night air brushed against his face, carrying with it the whispers of the city as it settled into slumber. His steps were unhurried, echoing softly on the pavement, each one a testament to the profound sense of contentment that filled him. In his mind, the events of the evening replayed like a cherished melody, each note resonating with the warmth of newfound hope.

He thought of the coffee shop, now silent and dark, but vibrant with the memories they had created within its walls. He thought of Cody, of the way his smile had the power to stir something deep within him, of the ease and sincerity in his voice, and of the gentle strength in his hands. The memory of their shared moment locking up the shop lingered at the forefront of his mind, a symbol of the journey they had just embarked upon together.

The air kiss, a simple yet profound gesture, danced in his thoughts, a delicate symbol of their budding relationship. It was a moment that encapsulated the beauty of what was developing between them – a connection that was as surprising as it was deeply right. The memory of it brought a gentle smile to Obi-Wan's lips, a smile that spoke of the joy and anticipation for what lay ahead.

With each step, Obi-Wan felt a growing sense of peace. The uncertainties of the future, which had once loomed large, now seemed manageable, even welcome, as long as he and Cody faced them together. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, a desire to explore this new chapter of his life with the same passion and dedication he applied to his academic pursuits.

As he reached his home and turned the key in the lock, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath of the night air. He felt grounded, connected to the present in a way he hadn't been before. The evening had not just marked the closing of the coffee shop; it had signified the opening of a new door in his life, one filled with the promise of shared laughter, conversations, and the warmth of a connection that had grown from a simple daily routine into something truly extraordinary.

Obi-Wan stepped inside, the warmth of his home enveloping him. As he prepared for bed, the thought of seeing Cody the next morning filled him with a quiet joy. He drifted off to sleep with a heart full of hope, the memory of the evening's air kiss a gentle reminder of the beautiful journey that lay ahead.

Thank you for joining me on this journey with Obi-Wan and Cody. If you enjoyed their story, your comments and likes are always greatly appreciated.

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asterdisaster06 · 1 year

Text

Rottweiler's Callsign Story

platonic 141 x reader

summary > The mission was supposed to be an easy in and out stealth operation; however, you getting cornered by enemy guards that weren't drawn out by the team's distraction left you to desperation. Such circumstances resulting in unsavory acts needed to get out alive and back to your team. Half the blood on you might not even be yours, but you're out alive and safe.

word count > 5.6k

warnings > graphic description of blood and violence, like i'm not kidding. medical terms used to describe some of the gore. reader is described like a feral dog.

ao3

You had always been quite animalistic in your ways, vocal on the battlefield with snarls and hisses escaping your lips through the sheer effort of your tyranny. Grunts and growls being a point made to enemies you faced before absolutely thrashing them to death. Your skills with a gun whether a handgun or an assault rifle were top tier, your training made sure of it, but your real talent laid in hand to hand combat. Specializing in utilizing your own body and surroundings to tear your enemy down. It was something that had confused and yet impressed your teammates on the taskforce. They stared at you with something akin to visceral horror and pure adoration when you save their asses more than they can count.

Whether that comes from tackling the one on top and pinning them by their throat or managing to spot an enemy that they had missed on their six. Either way, any way, they were significantly impressed by you and your prowess. Your expertise offered something new to the group. Your bones held your pride that was either to be completely snapped or remain unwounded. Your muscles flexed to show the pride that was your mortal self. Your teeth were bared to the world like a stray dog. And in a sense, that was what you were.

You were found by Laswell and Price with your fur matted and your teeth too sharp from eating trash-thrown bones. Metaphorically of course. Literally though, they were your saviors. She took you off the previous military base you would’ve died on and Price raised you like his own flesh and blood. He took the limping, ugly mutt and showed a kindness you had always heard directed at others but never you. You learned to not bite at the hand that feeds you.

The others came later once you were settled in - learning very little of your past; only knowing what you had seethed through tight lipped smiles. At that point you were known simply as ‘hound’ to them. You’re not entirely sure how or when it came about, but it seemed to fit you for the moment.

You weren’t exactly talkative, similar to Ghost in that aspect. That’s not to say that you didn’t learn to open up and trust, especially when you were on a mission that required trust and teamwork. Collaboration and communication were the foundation for the taskforce, and it wasn’t something you could opt out of. You mostly sat back and smiled at a few of the jokes shared, but the one time you spoke to add onto the dark humor from Simon scared the shit out of them. Even Simon was a little caught off guard despite his vehement denial. It was the start of the blossoming friendship between you and the team.

This particular mission was no different than the others. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, the world had different plans in mind for you and the boys.

Soap had been talking your ear off and you listened in with a small smile on your face at his antics. It was amusing to you that he wasn’t put off by your scars, both physical and mental. He looked past them, not quite ignoring them but not pushing for you to spill the story behind them all if you weren’t ready. You were forever grateful for that. Gaz was in a similar vein, learning to eventually see you for who you were. Sometimes he poked and prodded you, but only in the intentions of helping you. Especially when you refused to see a therapist. Not after the last incident.

Ghost respected you at face value. The mask was who you were to him, and it didn’t make a difference in the slightest for your identity. It was a refreshing contrast to the other two who were not exactly openly prying, but their curiosity emitted from them like radiation. And you didn’t need a geiger counter to see that being near them would eventually unravel your DNA containing your secrets. Ghost simply left your skeletons in the closet lie. A needed deviation in your life.

This mission required you to sneak into the compound in order to collect intel about nuclear weapons that a recent terrorist group had gotten their hands on. Obviously, that was a paramount issue that Shepherd had wanted the taskforce to take care of. Your boys would be creating a distraction away from your position, eventually creating a path to your location for a safe exfil after they had planted bombs around the compound. This establishment wasn’t going to be left standing after you guys were done with it if you could help it.

“Is everyone clear on their positions?” Price’s voice breaks through the disassociation your mind had thrust you into.

The ringing in your ears faded as the chatter began to quiet down and focus was injected into your veins. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of your mind, but you brushed it off as simple leftovers of anxiety growing mold in the fridge of your consciousness. You responded with a simple affirm alongside the rest of the team, eyes beginning to lose the dazed look within the cornea. You blink once and then twice as you take in your surroundings and run your tongue over your sharpened canines.

Your muscles tense with anticipation, letting your legs carry you out of the truck that was about one klick from the objective. You were to be going on foot from here to avoid raising suspicion. The treeline would offer some cover for the infiltration attempt, the leaves in full swing. Unfortunately that also meant so were the bugs and thorns. You would just have to deal with it, although Soap wasn’t so easily placated.

“Fucking hell,” Soap exclaims, swatting at a very vague buzz that was swarming him.

“Here,” Gaz says, throwing Soap a can of bug spray.

The droning and whirl of wings belonging to insects that lived long before humanity came about offers you a weird amount of comfort. It’s almost a commiseration of sorts between the creatures that nobody wanted around. You and the acarids. Nonetheless, you cover yourself in a self assumed shield of the spray that sticks to your skin in a way that makes you almost uncomfortable. The thorns and sticks pricking you through your tactical gear brings you relief. The opposite from what you presumed the others were experiencing.

It’s not like you were a masochist, peace and comfort have just never quite been something you’ve gotten used to. It’s what you’ve known most of your life and it’s what you’ll continuously go through. Much to the chagrin of your boys.

Speaking of, they appeared to be having varying levels of reaction to the harsh woodland environment. Soap has been openly complaining, although you knew it was mostly to break up the monotony of the trip alongside easing the anxiety of the others. He knew just how to utilize his personality like that and he wasn’t scared to come off as brash or even semi-annoying. You try to humor him enough to keep that spark going in his soul. That’s honestly a thought that keeps you up at night; Soap becoming like you or Ghost.

Gaz was experiencing his classic bad luck; truly trying to avoid any muddy spots or tripping on an exposed root, but it appears that it wasn’t working out for him. He had tripped over his own feet two times, an exposed root five, and almost twisted his ankle thrice. It was almost as if the woods had it out for him. You wince and make that last thing four times now as Gaz tripped over a small pebble and had to execute an almost ballerina-esque move to avoid falling face first into a puddle. It made you huff out a laugh, earning you a middle finger in your direction. Gaz truly does try his hardest in everything he does, placing expectations upon himself that nobody else even thinks of. Pressure mounting upon him that moves you to make sure he takes care of himself. You’ll be damned if you let him drown himself in the same way you do.

Ghost was similar to your apathy, although you could tell from his body language that he was in as much discomfort as Soap was expressing. He refused to let even a slip of a grunt or groan escape from his sealed lips. His combat boots were sinking into the mud as much as Gaz, but he had significantly more coordination and confidence in his steps than Kyle did. You observed him quietly, seeing thorns stick into his skin - likely releasing the red ichor of his mortal body. Nonetheless, he braved on with only a slight wince betraying his emotions. It reminded you of how he faces his own torment and demons with nothing showing to anyone around. Not unless they’re particularly attuned to him and his distinctive micro-expressions. You know this as well as anyone, so you make a conscious effort to try and get Simon to open up to you. Not a lot, and sometimes not at all, but enough to sand down the roughness around his edges. Enough to heal him one scar at a time.

Price was admonishing Soap for being so loud and semi-obnoxious. All in good fun, at least, at the distance you were away from the location. Given that Price was back at the car, you couldn’t exactly see what he was doing or his own personal quirks. However, you had known him long enough to know his personality and behavior. You had spent a good chunk of time analyzing the man that had offered you not only a position on this team, but a hand to help you up from your back-alley way of living. He was a tired man that needed some positive affirmation in his life if you were being honest. He had this entire team on his back alongside his position that designated him to a life chained to his work. His title delegated him to the duress that came with everyone expecting victory from you. It’s probability is down right improbable for him to always come out on top. Although, you doubt that he’s come to terms with that idea. You try your best to offer support in your own way, realizing that words alone aren’t going to cut it. You try to guide him to sleep if he’s too caught up in paperwork or offer him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it if an all-nighter is inevitable. You want to be there for him like he is for you.

Laswell’s voice cuts through the comms and snaps you from your stupor. Kate Laswell. She offered you kindness while others offered you chains. She let you into her life instead of caging you like a feral animal. She took the muzzle off of your maw and let you speak. She presented you with a purpose outside of being a killing machine for your previous team sent in with no regard for your health or happiness. She gave you a life. One of your own. A team that you could rely on with a street of protection that goes both ways. Possibilities were opened up that you had never dared to dream of beforehand. You owed her your life, and that’s what you fought with on every mission.

“You’re closing in on the base. Can we get a general overview of how it’s going?”

You smiled and shook your head before the Scot even opened his mouth.

“How’s it going? Oh wonderful, absolutely joyous,” Soap spoke with mock annoyance, good-natured humor shining through despite his tone.

“All is well, the intel we were given appears to be good. There should be no difficulties from our view over here,” Ghost answers, genuinely.

“Affirm, I’m all set and ready here, Kate,” Price speaks, his commanding timbre sending rumbles down your spine and through your nervous system.

“Remember, get in and get out, don’t get caught up in the blast,” Kate reminds you all, as if you could forget.

A chorus of proclaimed agreements echoes throughout the trees of the forest. The silence that falls over the group afterwards makes you tense up and get into the mindset of the feral mutt that has kept you alive for this long. Your breath ends up heavy, saliva coating the inside of your jaws as you harshly swallow it down - almost choking every time you do. Your shoulders rise and fall in time with your respiration. Ghost checks in with the group one last time before you’re sent off first into the craw of the compound. Being a sacrifice is nothing new to you, but it still causes you to shudder in anticipation. Goosebumps rise all across your skin despite the temperature dictating otherwise.

You wander forward, joints creaking in protest as you sneak around the side of the building. It’s inevitable that you have to utilize your knife, but you use it sparingly - not wanting the alarms to ring because some unfortunate soul stumbles upon the body of their fallen comrade. It’s almost second nature to you at this point and you would’ve zoned off if it wasn’t for the pure adrenaline rushing through your system. You finally reach point A in which you reaffirm with the rest of the boys that the plan is a go and no complications have arised.

You hear a plethora of acknowledgements before you begin to move forward with the permission of Ghost and Price. You snake cam the door before lock picking it after deeming it safe. There didn’t appear to be any enemies nearby much to your satisfaction. The less possibilities for this plan to go wrong, the better. It’s a waiting game as you come upon the stairwell door leading up to the room you were meant to infiltrate. The clock ticks down, the beats of your heart sounding out in your ears as a unit of measurement.

Boom.

It’s the signal for you to proceed as all of the cameras are abandoned with the clicking of the gun trigger replacing the clack of keys in the office. You were all set up and ready to acquire the real reason your mission was handed out. Pushing past into the stairwell, you’re met with the surprise of an elbow to the face, effectively causing a gush of blood to start trickling down your face. Despite the advantage the enemy had from his effort of concealment working to catch you off guard, you gained your balance back quickly, and the pounding of your head did nothing to quell the vexation that led you to putting a knife in the guy’s eye. You shoot a bullet straight into his cranium with a glare, just to cover your tracks.

You lick your chapped lips, tasting the metallic mouthful you had gotten from your little scuffle. You didn’t hear a crack, but it was definitely going to be a pain in the ass the next day. Nonetheless, you pushed on, aiming to be more aware of your surroundings. There was an odd lack of guards around the area for what seemed like the main structure. It set off warning bells in your head, but there was no turning back now. From the gunfire sounding out from below it seemed that the others would be too caught up to engage in a verbal conversation regarding your worries. Not like you weren’t confident in your own abilities, quite the opposite, but Price had managed to drill into your head that not everything had to be faced alone. Jokes on him, this situation had the appearance of it being a one man operation.

You and your blood soaked sleeves made your way to the computer where you gathered yourself into a semi-coherent being in order to upload data from their system. The hard part was already done for you; all you had to do was plug a hard drive into a computer and wait. And that you did. You almost felt sorry for getting their keyboard all slick with your carnage escaping from your sinuses. It also felt as if you had bitten your tongue during the altercation, your mouth being yet another outlet for the liquid escaping you. You spat on the floor, maroon saliva staining it.

Running down your neck, the blood seemed to stop at that point, trickling off into a simple seeping of gore. You consider yourself lucky, just in time for the information to be uploaded onto the hard drive you were given. You report over to Price and Laswell, a slight lisp imbued into your words due to the tip of your tongue suffering from puncture wounds your teeth had embedded into the soft muscle. They understood you perfectly fine however, and you were instructed to continue with the orders you were given. At that moment however, the lack of communication on your part about your suspicions of an ambush was coming back to bite you in the ass. Almost literally.

A gloved hand smothers your mouth, effectively suffocating you. If the arm around your throat and its connected hand stifling your ability to productively breath wasn’t enough, there was now a knife lodged in your side. Your attacker drove the knife you suspected he took from your gear even further into your abdomen, twisting it like he was wringing out the last of his laundry. Except you were the clothes and your blood was escaping you, much to your chagrin. Fortunately for you, this particular guard was practically brain dead when it came to medical knowledge, so you were pretty confident that you were going to live. That is, if you could escape without being asphyxiated to death.

You maneuver your maw into an opportune striking position, opening your jaws like a dog being thrown a bone. The coincidental nature of that thought would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t currently on the verge of being slaughtered and gutted like a pig. You chomp down and dig your teeth into the metacarpals of his skeleton, relishing in his grunt of pain and attempt to recoil. You were like a dog with a bone though, and you’d be damned if anyone tried to take it from you. His attempt to pry your jaws open with the hand that soon abandoned the knife in your side after the puncturing of his palm. You ground your teeth into the fat of his hand before realizing the glove was going to be an issue. You turn your teeths’ attention to his exposed wrist, aiming for his radial artery. Unfortunately for him, your fangs found their intended target and perforated his skin. You threw your head back, grasping his arm with your other hands - clawing at it like a feral beast.

You effectively were one, your mouth full of flesh and muscle that didn’t belong to you. Although, you suppose that one could argue it didn’t belong to him either. Not anymore. You spat out the pulp of tissue, realizing that he had let you go. You put a bullet right through his eyes, spraying blood and brain matter across the room. Well deserved for someone like him. You drive your boot into his lifeless corpse, really kicking the man while he was down. Your joke, although knowing nobody alive was around to hear it, made a hysterical laugh claw its way out of your throat. Your larynx had really betrayed your deranged and volatile behavior. Your manic nature had kept you alive so far, so you supposed you had only yourself to thank.

You shoved your bloodied tongue around your mouth, hoping to wash out the taste of human flesh. It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve tasted - that goes to Ghost’s attempts at cooking - but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. You wiped your mouth against the back of your hand, quickly realizing that it too was bloody. Red wasn’t really your color right now, otherwise you would have appreciated the look. You quickly checked over your supplies, knowing that you could make due with anything around the room or at the very least your hands, but feeling comfort in the weight of the metal contraption that delivered death at a much quicker rate. Hemorrhaging from either a knife or a gun was much more effective than your bare hands. Or teeth.

It appears that your enemies didn’t appreciate your sentiment though, ambushing you only to take away such things from your grasp. There were two this time. They almost reminded you of Soap and Ghost, if those two were actively trying to kill you. Your boys only sometimes did that, and most of the time it was pitiful attempts. You were actually the one that got quite a few new rules implemented during training - but seriously, who stops in the middle of a fight to ask if something is legal? No-one, which is exactly why you simply did what was necessary to survive, to quote verbatim what you had said to Price as your excuse when Soap had ended up in the med bay.

Be that as it may, these guards weren’t who you thought them akin to. Therefore, everything was on the table. Especially since they had made the grave error of giving your standard weapons a place on the backburner. Now, the only thought in your mind was kill. At all costs necessary. Your sharpened canines glinted in the dim lighting with a scarlet staining the pearly white as your mouth opened. It’s unfortunate for them that they didn’t have a muzzle on hand.

Before the one in front of you had an opportunity to shoot you through any vital organ, you used your body weight to shove the one holding you to the ground - the bullet whizzing above you. A guttural growl escaped your throat as you turned your attention to escaping the grasp of the poor soul restraining your body. You grasp his upper arm, twisting yourself to use his body as a human shield. It would’ve made you gag if this was the first time you’ve done this. Regrettably, you have quite a bit of experience in this particular experience.

The bullets pierced the soon to be corpse of his comrade, narrowly avoiding you except for one that grazed your side. You really were losing a lot of blood today. Making your way to safety was your biggest priority; however, that was proving difficult with leftover guards that were actually doing their job semi-well. You untucked yourself from under the weight of the stiff remains and threw yourself at the unlucky fellow who had just run out of ammo in his weapon. A simple click is all you heard as the gun escaped his grasp in favor of his bare hands. You were thrown into a chokehold yet again. These guys really did like their chokeholds. His hand gripped the knife slick with your own blood from your hands and ripped it out, leaving you to bleed to death. His mistake though was only using one hand to contain your rage filled body made of torn flesh and bones.

You tore yourself from his grasp, with the worst luck in all of history happening with the knife getting knocked down the stairwell - sounding like a fork being dropped in the sink on its way down. You were in no condition to run or even jump after it, and the only other weapon was out of ammo, so it seemed you were yet again stuck using your bare hands. They trembled as you gathered yourself, preparing yourself for what you were being forced to do in order to escape this ordeal alive. You settled your weight into your haunches and launched yourself at the enemy, vision bloodshot and tinted red. An animalistic growl escaped yourself, sounding almost like a hyena’s maniacal laugh. Your lunge proved fruitful as your claws came into contact with his facial features, digging into his eyes to blind him. The texture of the soft tissue under your sharpened nails flexed and then ruptured. The front layers of his cornea gave way to the gooey gel similar to egg whites that filled the orbs.

A visceral scream escaped the man below you, causing Price to finally check in over comms. At least, you think so, it was getting hard to hear with the ringing in your ears. You didn’t respond either way.

You knew that even blind, the man was still a liability. Or maybe he wasn’t, but to your addled brain firing neuron after neuron that drove you with the only thoughts occupying you being: survive and kill; well, the feral nature of yourself pushed you to make sure he was dead. You had your training to thank for that. You knew that the rest of his body was protected by the structure of his epidermis, much to your dissatisfaction. Your thoughts wandered back to the first enemy you encountered as you loomed over the blinded man. Your mind was made up.

In a split second decision, you descended your fangs into his throat, sinking your teeth into his trachea and hearing a sickening squelch of his bare flesh. The muscles gave way as you shook your head like a rabid dog, separating his tissue from their home within his body. You didn’t stop until you felt his carotid artery begin to hemorrhage. You shakily stand up, staring at the massacre you had left behind. Your jaw would definitely be sore the next day. There wasn’t a surface of you that wasn’t absolutely drenched in blood, and you couldn’t tell where yours began and theirs ended. The corpse beneath you had stopped screaming after the first puncture of your teeth - at least, you’re pretty sure. The haze surrounding your mind made thinking about it too hard. It almost fills you with a sense of regret at letting the monster you once were out of their muzzle yet again. The halfway decapitated body was left as you limped down the stairs and out a back door.

You shambled out into the woods, faltering only twice to prevent yourself from tripping since you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to get up again after that. The rush of blood in your head faded as the sounds around you finally cascaded back into reality. You swore you could feel the dripping of blood spurting out of all open wounds in time with your heart. The chaos finally sunk in, the screaming over comms for your response demanding your attention.

“I’m,” You break up your sentence with a cough. “I’m fine,” Your voice sounds crackly and hoarse. Not that you’re surprised.

“Where the fuck are you, you were supposed to be out of there five minutes ago,” Price yells out over the radio.

“I don’t exactly know. Somewhere out in the woods?” You respond, your head pounding.

“Ghost, find them!” Price had apparently discerned that you were in no condition to be taking in your surroundings accurately enough to ascertain an accurate location.

“Fuck, I think I see them. Hound!”

You think you hear a faint yelling of your name, although it doesn’t quite register to your unhinged and disoriented brain. All you could tell through the muddy fog of your mind was a person. Enemy. Kill. Survive. Escape. You felt their hands on you, your throat closing up in response as you preemptively expected to be strangled half to death. You let out a snarl, baring your teeth and coming into contact with what you think is a hand. Either way, it doesn’t matter to you and you bite down with the force of a wild animal. A yelp is heard, only cementing your actions in your mind.

“Calm the fuck down Sergeant.”

A voice cuts through the haze like a hot knife through butter. You fall limp in the grasp; whether it’s because you recognize the voice or you simply are accepting your fate is up in the air. Nonetheless, your surroundings begin to load in, your eyes stopping their constant darting around and focusing on a singular face. Or, faces. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They had found you. You were safe. You notice Soap has a bleeding hand - your own handiwork without a doubt. Guilt floods you, your behavior similar to a puppy hearing the words ‘bad dog’ for the first time in their life.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You did great, Hound,” Soap begins to say.

“Come back to us, Love,” Gaz whispers, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” You cry out, finally feeling the effects of your pure exhaustion.

“I don’t blame you, Jesus, you’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell us when you get all patched up again, Hound,” Soap exclaims.

“How much of this blood is yours?” Ghost finally cuts in.

“Not a lot, just where the knife was and I might’ve gotten shot.”

“Might’ve?” Soap laughs.

“Mission, guys,” Price finally interrupts. “I’m glad you’re safe, Hound.”

The mission continues, you leaning on Soap since you’re pretty sure stumbling down the stairs strained one of your ankles. You spewed out numerous apologies for his hand, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. The go ahead for the air team with Laswell to level the building was given, and the exfil point was finally reached by your ground group. At that point, you were barely conscious, hearing echoes of pet names assuring you only a little longer and to stay with them. They plagued the darkness that overtook you and greeted you as you woke up to the blinding light of the medical room.

“Welcome back to the world of living,” Soap says. “The doctors hadn’t seen anything like you before,” He laughs.

“Do you want to explain why they found human tissue in your mouth?” Ghost asks, his tone inquisitive.

“Shit man, let them have a bit of a break before we interrogate them,” Gaz chuckles, offering you some water, much to your appreciation.

You gulp down the water like it was the last time you would ever get the precious liquid, your body thanking you. You sheepishly hand the empty cup back to an amused Gaz. You clear your throat, not quite ready to delve into the specifics of what you had to do to survive, but knowing you had to. Being open in communication was a non-arguable point to being a part of the taskforce.

“Most of the blood on me when you found me was probably belonging to the man I might’ve,” You pause, “ripped the throat out of?” You rush that last part out as quickly as you could, knowing that despite your efforts, they’re going to question you.

Both Soap and Gaz’s eyes widened almost comically, both quickly exclaiming different curse words. One being Scottish curses that you could barely make out from his accent. The other being aggressively British expletives spilling out of Gaz’s mouth. Ghost simply looked upon you with what seemed to be both admiration and affirmation. You had known he would be the most likely to not be surprised at your actions. He knew what it was like to have an untamed beast within you.

“What in the bloody hell did you say?” Price was apparently looming in the doorway, keeping himself hidden until this moment.

You cough, and ask “Is now a good time to mention I also might’ve done the same to a man’s hand?”

Soap had a horrified look upon his face. “You’re saying I could’ve lost my precious hand?”

You had almost forgotten about Soap’s injury, and stared at him with a semblance of guilt flashing across your face.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say quietly.

“What happened to the good ole knife or bullet?” Soap asked, offering you his bandaged hand to hold in an offer of forgiveness and trust.

“They stole my shit, and my knife ended up kicked down a staircase after it was ripped out of me,” You pouted, the drug concoction of morphine and other such things loosening you up to talk.

“You’re quite a rabid beast, ain’t you?” Price said, his tone betraying the fact that he was in fact quite proud of you. It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way and you knew that. You smiled in his direction, jokingly baring your teeth at your Captain.

“Aye, I think you’re more than a baying hound at this point. Maybe Rottweiler would serve you better. That mouthful of teeth sure does remind me of my childhood,” Soap says, shivering at the thought of being the victim of your maw.

“I hate to think of the final view those soldiers saw of you,” Gaz laughs.

“I think Rottweiler suits you,” Ghost says. “Fearless yet loyal.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement, surrounding you with support and love. Something that still unsettles you to this day, but not in the same way facing down the barrel of a gun would. It’s a warm embrace in front of a fireplace that sends a jolt of something new down your spine. A fondness spreading like wildfire, adoration deep seated in your bones to those around you. Just like a dog, you were a fierce protector of your family, but with them? You were a tender beast that rolled over at their feet.

You couldn’t think of anything better than that thought which warmed your heart.

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