[ 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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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. ]