[ It's been like this for two days. Claude and Anakin trying to catch a moment alone or, more often the case, to do something productive together and they've gotten intercepted by one of their four new housemates, so Anakin has had to disappear the way only a Force user can. Jedi tricks, Claude would've called it once, good-humouredly, but the good humour is gone now, along with the entire Jedi Order. All that's left is scraps and Anakin, Anakin who's in tatters himself. Claude runs a hand through his curls absentmindedly, listening for Anakin, still somehow surprised by how he thumps down next to the harvester, the dust whirling up and the droid dropping its Sourcorn. Claude speeds the harvester down to half tempo, twisting in his seat to look down at Anakin, giving off that heavy air of bottled up anger (anxiety) again. Your patience is admirable, he says. Claude huffs out a hard laugh. ]
You mean, exasperating, right? [ Giving him a long look out the corner of his eye, Claude shakes his head. He sees him. He sees Anakin, beyond his heavy cloak and his thick clothes, keeping out the sun. ] I can feel your frustration, you know. Maybe you should tell me what exactly it is that's eating at you.
[ While waiting for Anakin to decide whether he wants to bury into that feeling and share it with him or not, Claude leans forward slightly, catching one of the tall ears of corn, breaking off a cob and smelling it. It's got a tart, fresh, minty smell and tastes bitter uncooked, only slightly better cooked. However, it's good supplement and excellent for porridge which was Claude's main sustenance before Anakin arrived, seeing as it's the only thing he knows how to cook well.
The past couple of weeks have been better, in many ways. This is just a hurdle. It'll be over soon. ]
[ He crosses his arms, following alongside the harvester and kicking up dust as he goes. It's embarrassingly obvious that he's sulking and he straightens his back a little to counteract himself. His gaze glides sideways, caught by the way Claude breaks off the cob, the sound spry, full of freshness. If nothing else, what they're getting from the earth isn't tainted by anything - if he looks at Claude without thinking too much, he can almost imagine them in a different world, a different life.
There's peace, here, in this very tiny moment. That's what they get - and it would last longer if they weren't continually disturbed.
He frowns. ]
I don't like the way he keeps badgering you. You've made your stance clear at least a dozen times.
[ He throws out his senses briefly but as far as he can tell, there's no one around. There's a sense of purpose and direction coming from the barn house, a familiar feeling that he associates quite strongly with clone troopers. During the wars, the battle field had been bathed in it; the sense of going forwards. Towards what, is the question.
Lips thinning, he gives the harvester a small nudge, just to do something with himself, with the emotions roiling within him. It speeds up very slightly, not enough to cause any trouble. He thinks Claude's question over, trying to reach within himself for a better answer, something that doesn't just make it seem like he's stupidly jealous. He is, obviously. But last time, that jealousy cost him his marriage and he'd like to think he's lost enough in the interim to get at least a sense of perspective.
It's not Claude's fault. That much he's certain of.
[ It's not that Anakin is blaming him, Claude knows, none of the frustration is directed at him and Anakin isn't asking him to carry the blame for it which is probably thanks to a long period of living the consequences of his actions so acutely. Maybe, back in the day, if this had happened, it'd have looked different. Claude isn't exactly keen on finding out the difference between then and now, they've lost too much in the interim, lingering on the rest is completely futile.
But the thing is, if it's not anything to do with Claude, all arrows point back on Anakin himself and Claude knows he doesn't see the issue as clearly as Claude does, from the outside. He can put two and two together, it's a self-confidence issue, no doubt born of a lifetime living in serviture to others where his worth was exponentionally dependent on their use of him. Claude doesn't know what that's like, sure, but he can imagine what it must to do someone. Kriff, he can see it, right?
As the hoover harvester speeds up, because Anakin is being a child about it, Claude turns more in his seat and looks down at him with a soft expression. He doesn't blame Trigger for not knowing how to behave, he's a clone, he's grown up in a utterly segregated environment without actual human contact. How'd he know what's proper after a life like that? Like Anakin can't help his own doubts, after the life he's led.
That Claude understands him helps his degree of tolerance a lot. If he didn't understand, he'd have pushed Trigger over a cliff at this point. As Anakin seems inclined to do, still.
He needs to understand. ]
It's a minor inconvenience to me, Anakin, but a major one to you. In the end, it's not even really anything to do with Trigger. He's just feeding your issues with his behaviour.
[ Slipping the cob into the waiting arms of the droid passing by the hoover, Claude turns back around, facing forward. He can feel his tanktop sticking to his back, he's sweaty and dusty and needs a shower soon, to be honest. ]
You remember the first time I fucked you? And I couldn't make myself because I was caught up in how it had been with Rainier? You told me not to be afraid. You didn't even know, Anakin, but you told me that... [ A pause. Feels like a long time ago, but he remembers it vividly still, that feeling of release, in so many ways. ] I'm telling you now, don't be afraid. You have nothing to fear from him. I'm not interested, he can come back a hundred times, I'm still not interested. I'm taken, I have you, don't be afraid.
[ In front of him, the corn is getting cut down at an even pace, he can hear them thud thud thud against the ground, like a drumming rhythm. ]
[ Claude turns towards him, his expression so soft that his chest aches from it. Imagine someone like that, someone so good and kind, having to deal with this messed up galaxy - it reminds him of other lovely people he's known, way back, people who didn't deserve what they got. Not at all. But as he's seen now and shown by his own actions, the universe doesn't give a kriff about what people do and do not deserve. He tightens his arms against his chest while Claude speaks.
It's interesting, how they've always spoken, him and Claude; not just about everyday things, about whatever topic might've caught them, but about their inner worlds, too, about things like issues and fear. Not to push them away or ignore them but to deal with them, to grasp them and hold them because that's what being unafraid means. He's aware. He's been a Sith and a Jedi, both.
And afraid, throughout. ]
I remember.
[ Does he ever. He hasn't actually thought much of sex since everything happened but being around Claude like this, every day, sleeping with him, waking up to his half-naked body - things are coming back. Memories of warmth and softness and the other man's taste on his lips. He smiles now, his grip around himself loosening as he looks down, ducking his head slightly. Right. He'd said that. He'd really said that. He can't remember whether he'd believed in those words wholeheartedly, then, or only on Claude's behalf and maybe that's part of the problem. He's feeding your issues.
Issues with what?
He'll have to meditate on it tonight, along with the feelings still raging beneath the surface. If he isn't angry with Trigger and not with Claude, either, then that leaves only - himself. There's no one else here. There's no one else. He looks at Claude, smile fading into a light frown, head tilted to the side. ]
How did you become so wise? I feel like you must have been a very intimidating baby once.
[ I remember, Anakin replies and Claude smiles slightly, plucking another cob of Sourcorn, throwing it over one shoulder to the droid trailing behind the harvester. From the slight beeping, overly satisfied, it sounds like it caught it. It makes him smile more.
Sex isn't a subject they breach in any other way than this, it's simply not something they talk about. Not that they're ignoring it, but time hasn't been right and there have been too many other issues stacked on top, more important things, on a greater scope. But Claude watches Anakin when he's sitting in front of his tank and meditating, drying while he does the work, his naked body a thrown-together puzzle of parts, flesh and metal and tech. Claude looks at him and he aches to know him again, know what they might be able to do together, right? What options they have left, after everything. Still, he doesn't push and he doesn't long in any selfish way, longing so much that it becomes a grip that he can't contain himself.
His want it gentler than that. Always was. He breathes in, exhales, inhales again, deeply, his chest rising.
How did you become so wise, Anakin wants to know and it's a joke, another thing they haven't had a lot of time for. Joking around, having fun. The galaxy isn't the place for that at the moment, maybe they won't get there in their kriffing lifetime, but moments are what they are and they have those, at least.
These glimpses.
So, Claude laughs, low and at the back of his throat to take the sharpness out of his response: ]
Experience is a great teacher. [ Turning his head and looking down at Anakin, expression hardening just a fraction, because it still does, a lifetime and a dictatorship later, when he thinks of Rainier. Blinking himself out of it, he gives the other man a small smile, beginning to turn the harvester as they reach the end of the line. ] I made stupid choices once and I paid the price. I'm still paying the price.
[ What he doesn't say is, you know how it goes, because he wouldn't begin comparing what Rainier did to him with what the Emperor did to Anakin, first off the parallels are too disturbing for this beautiful, sunny day with a moment's calm and secondly, because the consequences are of different scopes. One isn't worse or more important, just... different. Anakin's consequences resonate in the whole galaxy while Claude's resonate only in his own chest sometimes, at unguarded moments, catching him off-guard. ]
[ Off to the west, the sun is about midway towards setting and the light feels warmer now, more golden than yellow. It plays through Claude's hair as he turns his head, bringing out the many shades of brown amidst his curls, dark and light, something in between. His gaze turns harder as he references his past, the way it always does when this particular topic comes up. It's something broken within him, something that probably won't ever fully heal. Anakin has only begun to understand the parallels between them, between Rainier and Sidious, within the last couple of months. They disturb him so he rarely lingers at them.
I'm still paying the price says Claude, a heaviness to his words if not to his voice that mirrors the near-constant ache in Anakin's chest. He looks at the other man for a long moment, feeling wordless. There's nothing much to say that Claude hasn't already implied - about what they've both experienced, about how they differ because Claude chose one path and Anakin chose another. Stupid choices, he says. The problem is, of course, that sometimes even the worst decisions make some sort of weird, bizarre kind of sense in the moment when you have to choose. He knows about the dark side now. Your fear will distort your vision.
He understands that now, yes, but his eyes are still the same. Maybe Claude's are too, in a way, and maybe that's the core of it, the problem that they have to talk into the light to be able to properly see it and deal with it.
Nodding once in reply, he turns to gather up an armful of bundles. He carries them onwards, the small droid bumping his leg once or twice, clearly none too happy with his assistance. He ignores it, following Claude as the harvester cuts its way back to their starting point, the sky losing its glow only slowly above them. ]
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You mean, exasperating, right? [ Giving him a long look out the corner of his eye, Claude shakes his head. He sees him. He sees Anakin, beyond his heavy cloak and his thick clothes, keeping out the sun. ] I can feel your frustration, you know. Maybe you should tell me what exactly it is that's eating at you.
[ While waiting for Anakin to decide whether he wants to bury into that feeling and share it with him or not, Claude leans forward slightly, catching one of the tall ears of corn, breaking off a cob and smelling it. It's got a tart, fresh, minty smell and tastes bitter uncooked, only slightly better cooked. However, it's good supplement and excellent for porridge which was Claude's main sustenance before Anakin arrived, seeing as it's the only thing he knows how to cook well.
The past couple of weeks have been better, in many ways. This is just a hurdle. It'll be over soon. ]
no subject
There's peace, here, in this very tiny moment. That's what they get - and it would last longer if they weren't continually disturbed.
He frowns. ]
I don't like the way he keeps badgering you. You've made your stance clear at least a dozen times.
[ He throws out his senses briefly but as far as he can tell, there's no one around. There's a sense of purpose and direction coming from the barn house, a familiar feeling that he associates quite strongly with clone troopers. During the wars, the battle field had been bathed in it; the sense of going forwards. Towards what, is the question.
Lips thinning, he gives the harvester a small nudge, just to do something with himself, with the emotions roiling within him. It speeds up very slightly, not enough to cause any trouble. He thinks Claude's question over, trying to reach within himself for a better answer, something that doesn't just make it seem like he's stupidly jealous. He is, obviously. But last time, that jealousy cost him his marriage and he'd like to think he's lost enough in the interim to get at least a sense of perspective.
It's not Claude's fault. That much he's certain of.
He sighs. ]
no subject
But the thing is, if it's not anything to do with Claude, all arrows point back on Anakin himself and Claude knows he doesn't see the issue as clearly as Claude does, from the outside. He can put two and two together, it's a self-confidence issue, no doubt born of a lifetime living in serviture to others where his worth was exponentionally dependent on their use of him. Claude doesn't know what that's like, sure, but he can imagine what it must to do someone. Kriff, he can see it, right?
As the hoover harvester speeds up, because Anakin is being a child about it, Claude turns more in his seat and looks down at him with a soft expression. He doesn't blame Trigger for not knowing how to behave, he's a clone, he's grown up in a utterly segregated environment without actual human contact. How'd he know what's proper after a life like that? Like Anakin can't help his own doubts, after the life he's led.
That Claude understands him helps his degree of tolerance a lot. If he didn't understand, he'd have pushed Trigger over a cliff at this point. As Anakin seems inclined to do, still.
He needs to understand. ]
It's a minor inconvenience to me, Anakin, but a major one to you. In the end, it's not even really anything to do with Trigger. He's just feeding your issues with his behaviour.
[ Slipping the cob into the waiting arms of the droid passing by the hoover, Claude turns back around, facing forward. He can feel his tanktop sticking to his back, he's sweaty and dusty and needs a shower soon, to be honest. ]
You remember the first time I fucked you? And I couldn't make myself because I was caught up in how it had been with Rainier? You told me not to be afraid. You didn't even know, Anakin, but you told me that... [ A pause. Feels like a long time ago, but he remembers it vividly still, that feeling of release, in so many ways. ] I'm telling you now, don't be afraid. You have nothing to fear from him. I'm not interested, he can come back a hundred times, I'm still not interested. I'm taken, I have you, don't be afraid.
[ In front of him, the corn is getting cut down at an even pace, he can hear them thud thud thud against the ground, like a drumming rhythm. ]
no subject
It's interesting, how they've always spoken, him and Claude; not just about everyday things, about whatever topic might've caught them, but about their inner worlds, too, about things like issues and fear. Not to push them away or ignore them but to deal with them, to grasp them and hold them because that's what being unafraid means. He's aware. He's been a Sith and a Jedi, both.
And afraid, throughout. ]
I remember.
[ Does he ever. He hasn't actually thought much of sex since everything happened but being around Claude like this, every day, sleeping with him, waking up to his half-naked body - things are coming back. Memories of warmth and softness and the other man's taste on his lips. He smiles now, his grip around himself loosening as he looks down, ducking his head slightly. Right. He'd said that. He'd really said that. He can't remember whether he'd believed in those words wholeheartedly, then, or only on Claude's behalf and maybe that's part of the problem. He's feeding your issues.
Issues with what?
He'll have to meditate on it tonight, along with the feelings still raging beneath the surface. If he isn't angry with Trigger and not with Claude, either, then that leaves only - himself. There's no one else here. There's no one else. He looks at Claude, smile fading into a light frown, head tilted to the side. ]
How did you become so wise? I feel like you must have been a very intimidating baby once.
no subject
Sex isn't a subject they breach in any other way than this, it's simply not something they talk about. Not that they're ignoring it, but time hasn't been right and there have been too many other issues stacked on top, more important things, on a greater scope. But Claude watches Anakin when he's sitting in front of his tank and meditating, drying while he does the work, his naked body a thrown-together puzzle of parts, flesh and metal and tech. Claude looks at him and he aches to know him again, know what they might be able to do together, right? What options they have left, after everything. Still, he doesn't push and he doesn't long in any selfish way, longing so much that it becomes a grip that he can't contain himself.
His want it gentler than that. Always was. He breathes in, exhales, inhales again, deeply, his chest rising.
How did you become so wise, Anakin wants to know and it's a joke, another thing they haven't had a lot of time for. Joking around, having fun. The galaxy isn't the place for that at the moment, maybe they won't get there in their kriffing lifetime, but moments are what they are and they have those, at least.
These glimpses.
So, Claude laughs, low and at the back of his throat to take the sharpness out of his response: ]
Experience is a great teacher. [ Turning his head and looking down at Anakin, expression hardening just a fraction, because it still does, a lifetime and a dictatorship later, when he thinks of Rainier. Blinking himself out of it, he gives the other man a small smile, beginning to turn the harvester as they reach the end of the line. ] I made stupid choices once and I paid the price. I'm still paying the price.
[ What he doesn't say is, you know how it goes, because he wouldn't begin comparing what Rainier did to him with what the Emperor did to Anakin, first off the parallels are too disturbing for this beautiful, sunny day with a moment's calm and secondly, because the consequences are of different scopes. One isn't worse or more important, just... different. Anakin's consequences resonate in the whole galaxy while Claude's resonate only in his own chest sometimes, at unguarded moments, catching him off-guard. ]
no subject
I'm still paying the price says Claude, a heaviness to his words if not to his voice that mirrors the near-constant ache in Anakin's chest. He looks at the other man for a long moment, feeling wordless. There's nothing much to say that Claude hasn't already implied - about what they've both experienced, about how they differ because Claude chose one path and Anakin chose another. Stupid choices, he says. The problem is, of course, that sometimes even the worst decisions make some sort of weird, bizarre kind of sense in the moment when you have to choose. He knows about the dark side now. Your fear will distort your vision.
He understands that now, yes, but his eyes are still the same. Maybe Claude's are too, in a way, and maybe that's the core of it, the problem that they have to talk into the light to be able to properly see it and deal with it.
Nodding once in reply, he turns to gather up an armful of bundles. He carries them onwards, the small droid bumping his leg once or twice, clearly none too happy with his assistance. He ignores it, following Claude as the harvester cuts its way back to their starting point, the sky losing its glow only slowly above them. ]