Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I am not making any profit from this work of fanfiction.

Dedication: for pronker, who has been an advocate of Ferus Getting Some from the very beginning.

Feedback: Aw, please?

Category: Smut

Author's notes: future!fic, possibly AU outtake from the Freefallverse. Can stand alone (I hope).

~*~*~*~ SLEEPOVER ~*~*~*~

Ryn leaned in the doorway to her bedroom and watched Ferus try to work up the nerve to leave, or possibly the strength to stay.

"Soooo," she said slowly, drawing the word out in a way she'd learned from Anakin years ago, "I got you something."

Ferus blinked. "What?"

Ryn held up the package: long and thin, brightly colored, and flipped it once between her fingers before tossing it across the room.

Ferus caught it easily, snagging it out of the air with a more more casually graceful movement than he would have managed ten years ago. The looseness in his limbs now made Ryn's throat ache with all the things they'd left unsaid.

He studied the package and then regarded her archly, one eyebrow cocked in skepticism. "A toothbrush?"

Ryn shoved her hands into her hip pockets, tracing the outline of her pelvis with nervous thumbs. I am so not good at this. She hung on determinedly, having come too far to give up now. Besides. If she didn't say this tonight, they might drift for another ten years before one of them worked up the courage to try again. "I thought it might come in handy," she told him, not quite meeting his eyes, but she could feel the slightly snarky grin starting to tease the corners of her mouth. "You know. If you're ever out with a girl, and you want to ... spend the night." She tilts her head against the doorway, finally looking straight into Ferus's warm brown eyes. "It's like ... security."

"Security," Ferus repeated, and at first Ryn couldn't tell whether he's appalled or dumbfounded, or both.

"Yeah," Ryn said. "So you're always prepared to be spontaneous. So you give yourself the chance to take a chance."

For a second she didn't think he was going to get it, that she'd left herself vulnerable for nothing. But then the smile began in his eyes and took over his face, and he stepped closer, skirting around the couch Vader had picked out in a burst of overprotective indulgence a couple of years ago, as though furniture were what she really wanted from him.

"If I'm out with a girl," he clarified, just to make sure.

Ryn grinned. "If you want to spend the night."

"Ah." Ferus cleared his throat and twirled the toothbrush speculatively in his fingers. "And how will I know if a woman is ... amenable to such an arrangement?"

Ryn had to try twice before she could make her throat work. "You could ask her."

Somehow, he was already there.

Ferus leaned into her space so that she instinctively took a step away and pressed her back flat against the wall. He braced his hands on either side of her face. "That's one way to do it," he murmured. His voice was throatier than usual, lower: animal with desire. "Or I could try the direct approach."

"Uh," said Ryn, a little slow on the uptake.

She got it when Ferus closed his mouth over hers.

She gasped and arched away from the wall, winding her fingers in his hair, filling with glory.

"Wow," said Ferus, too stunned to be smug, "That's ... uh ... wow." He hauled her onto her toes, coming back for more, and Ryn pushed off and hooked one leg around his waist, pulling him closer. "Ohhh," said Ferus, and she remembered that he probably wasn't used to this sort of thing.

"Sorry," she whispered, and he shook his head, nuzzling her cheek.

"Don't be," he whispered back, and slid his hands under her hips to lift her.

She didn't realize what he was doing until he pushed her into the wall, and then she let him go on for a little longer, kissing and gasping and discovering everything he'd been missing, before she used her grip in his hair to pull his head back a little and look into his eyes.

"There's a better way to do this," she murmured, and saw the shocked hurt in Ferus's eyes. She couldn't quite hold back a smile. That's not what I meant, Ferus. "You know, in the bedroom?" she prompted, and saw understanding light his eyes.

"Uh," he said, but he didn't feel so much uncertain as inarticulate, so Ryn bucked her hips to clear the wall and slid down until her feet hit the floor.

"Come on," she said gently, tugging at his hands. "If a girl invites you to her bedroom, it's a sure thing."

Ferus laughed and followed her in.

(~)

They stumbled into Ryn's bedroom with nothing to guide them except a shared desire to make this night Not Like Last Time. (Ferus figured that knowing Ryn wasn't here to seduce and kill him was a good start.)

The bedroom was dark, both mostly unlit and decorated in black everything. Ryn's skin stood out starkly, startlingly white against the backdrop of black walls, black coverlet, black sheets. Even the curtains, half-open to let in the city glow, were black shimmersilk.

"Vader's taste in decorating," he panted, and then wished he hadn't when Ryn tensed under his fingers.

"The place was a gift," she said stiffly, pulling back a little. "If it bothers you -"

"No," Ferus said quickly. "It's none of my business." It bothered the hell out of him, but he'd accepted long ago that Ryn was helpless where Vader was concerned. She'd given her heart away so long ago that Ferus had never really had a chance. He couldn't have her first love. He couldn't even take first place, all these years later.

But he could have this: heat and sweetness and a shared pleasure that wasn't exactly filled with burning passion but still beat the hell out of going to bed alone.

And he'd missed her. Some days, he wasn't much better about Ryn than she was about Vader. He'd survived by putting duty first, but he'd never forgotten. Somewhere inside, he would always be wondering what he could have done differently to change her mind.

You could have told her how you felt, dumbass. You didn't have to leave her standing on the landing platform.

He could have told her, for instance, that he couldn't possibly stay because he thought he might be falling in love.

Somehow, he doubted whether Ryn would have been impressed by his reasoning, or by his need to run - away from the Jedi, because he couldn't handle what happened on Korriban; away from Coruscant, because he knew Ryn would find him and he just couldn't deal with her right now. He wasn't ready to have feelings, kriff it.

He'd been young and stupid and scared out of his mind, but that was all in the past, so it was time to get his act together and just move on ...

"Ferus?" That was Ryn, frowning up at him - probably because she'd noticed his distraction. "Are you okay?"

"I'm ... yeah, I'm fine."

Ryn looked unconvinced. Very gently, she disentangled herself and pulled back to sit on the edge of the bed. "I know you better than that, Ferus. Tell me."

"I -" Ferus shook his head. "Nothing." Of course she wasn't going to believe that. "I was just thinking how strange it is that we're ... here. Together." He cleared his throat. "What were the chances?"

Ryn shifted to sit on her hands, an old nervous tic he recognized all too well. "Pretty good, evidently." She bit her lip. "We don't have to do this, you know. No hard feelings. If you want to leave -"

"No." Ferus leaned in closer, wrapped one hand around the curve of her waist to pull her closer. "That's exactly what I don't want."

Ryn tried out a smile, a little shy. "Okay."

Ferus closed the conversation with his mouth on hers.

(~)

Ferus was warm and sweet and unexpectedly competent in bed. He took his time, made love as carefully as he'd been wont to do everything else when they were callow adolescents.

Ryn wasn't sure she liked this. She'd invited the new Ferus to her bed, maybe a little for old times' sake but mostly for himself. For both of them, for two lonely people who could take a few hours' comfort in each other. But it was hard to relax with the old Ferus, so carefully deliberate and correct. Every time she started to ease into something approaching arousal - it was nothing like sex with Anakin, that overwhelming rush of passion that obliterated every resistance in its path - Ferus was there, moving on to whatever he thought was the next appropriate step in their dance together.

Somehow, he always seemed to be several steps ahead, or two behind, or maybe just dancing to a different song altogether. They couldn't find a rhythm together.

Finally Ferus unwound his fingers from her hair, pulled his mouth away from her collarbone, and eased up onto his elbows. "You're not enjoying this, are you?"

Ryn squirmed; it was awkward to tell a man that he was doing everything right and still somehow getting it wrong. (She'd never had to have this conversation with Anakin, who'd been too inexperienced to have any idea what she might want and too urgent to follow whatever list Ferus was working down, anyway.) She cleared her throat and slid up the bed a little to break the intimacy of their position. "I - uh - it's not that. You're doing fine."

Ferus gave her a Look. "Ryn." He hadn't called her Ryn in forever.

Ryn pushed him away, gently, and sat up. "It's not like that. I mean, you're not doing anything wrong. It's just ..." She took a deep breath. "Ferus, are you enjoying this? Because I could swear you were thinking way too hard about what you're doing."

Ferus looked vaguely insulted, which was pretty much the response she had been dreading. "Of course I'm enjoying it. How could I not?" He eased closer to her on the bed, touched her waist with his fingertips. "You're gorgeous."

Ryn lifted his hand from her waist and held it in her own. "Ferus. Lots of women are gorgeous. You don't need to be with me for that. Anyway, that's not really what I was asking." He raised one eyebrow expectantly. Ryn tried not to grimace; she was beginning to think this whole evening had been a bad idea. Maybe the two of them just weren't cut out for sentient interaction. "Just ... Ferus, you have a history of doing what you think you should do, instead of what you want to do. You're being ... very cautious." No! "I" statements! "Er. I mean. I feel that maybe you aren't ..." What? Having a good time? "... as relaxed as maybe you could be."

She knew she'd handled that wrong when Ferus's face fell, his hopeful expression settling into resignation.

He pulled away from her and slumped on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice muffled. "I should have known better. I - this isn't really my thing."

Ryn sat up and slid across the black shimmersilk comforter - Vader had tried so hard to give her the best, and he was still missing the point by a mile; it hurt her every time she looked at the understated opulence, all the ways they'd missed each other in the dark - to sit behind Ferus and brace her knees on either side of his hips.

"Hey," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Just talk to me. Why is sex not your thing?"

Ferus turned his head slightly to give her a rueful look. "Jedi, remember? I'm not exactly an expert on intimacy."

There was a whole nest of gundarks lurking behind that statement that Ryn didn't feel even remotely equal to tackling. She tried anyway.

"Okay," she said, regrouping as best she could. "Um. Ferus. I'm going to ask you a personal question, okay?"

Ferus huffed something that was almost a rueful laugh. "Since when have you ever asked permission?"

Ryn pinched his arm for that. "Fine. Have you ever had sex ... um, with someone else?"

Ferus froze, and for a second Ryn thought he wasn't going to answer. Then: "Roan," he answered, his voice going hoarse as though the name hurt him.

Oh. Well. Oh.

Ryn blinked several times, tightened her grip on him, and said, "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize ... I never knew you were that kind of close."

"We ... weren't," Ferus said slowly. Painfully. "I wasn't ready. He said 'take your time,' and then ... then there wasn't any more time."

Oh. Ryn knew an instant's blinding anger with her best friend, the murderer. But she'd already forgiven him far worse things than killing an insurrectionist, so she tightened her jaw and let it go. Fury wouldn't bring back Roan Lands. Wouldn't heal any of the wounds the last ten years had left in their wake. "I'm so sorry," she repeated softly, smoothing back Ferus's hair. The streak of gold was silver now, and that was another thing they couldn't take back.

She had almost forgotten they'd been talking about sex when Ferus said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him: "I don't like boys."

Ryn flinched, jerked out of her reverie by the sound of his voice. "What?"

"I don't like boys," Ferus repeated. "In general, I mean. That's not ... that's not why I'm ... badinbed." He said the last part in a rush, all one forced breath, as though determined to get it out and yet not quite sure he could stand to say it.

Ryn caught herself in time not to shake her head at him. "You are not bad in bed." She drew the words out deliberately to drain whatever power they held over him. "Inexperienced, maybe. But I was thinking more ... that you were trying too hard. Like you were checking things off a list, instead of just doing what turns you on."

He turned just enough to meet her eyes, his own dark and uncertain in the city glow from Ryn's penthouse window (and that was another of Vader's ideas). "I don't know what turns me on."

The raw vulnerability in that admission took Ryn's breath away. What do you know? He'd opened up a little bit, after all. Very carefully, Ryn leaned in and spoke against his mouth. "Do you want to find out?"

She could feel him shaking all over. "Ye-es."

Ryn tugged at his tunic, rethinking her strategy. She wasn't really sure how to take charge - again, something that hadn't been an issue with Anakin Skywalker, so long ago it hurt to remember, so much loss between now and then - but clearly Ferus was never going to get there on his own. Unless they wanted to call for help and try a threesome - probably not a good idea, under the circumstances - that pretty much left her. "Take off your shirt?"

(~)

Ferus watched Ryn unfasten his tunic and ease it off his shoulders, met her reassuring smile with an uncertain one of his own, and responded to the gentle pressure of her hands by lying down and letting her trace the outline of his pectorals with cool, precise fingers.

"You're in very good shape," she murmured, and Ferus figured that was a compliment, so he said, "Thanks."

Ryn's smile deepened a little and she flattened her hands against his skin and ran them down his stomach, firmly enough to heat with friction in passing. "Tell me how this feels."

Ferus groped for an appropriate response. "Um. Good?"

Ryn actually laughed, just a little bit. He loved her laugh; it always sounded slightly surprised, as though she were receiving an unexpected present. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

Ferus frowned. "Telling you?"

Ryn raised her eyebrows, which she managed to do while still grinning. "You don't sound too certain." She ran her hands over him again, harder, and this time she made contact with his nipples on the way down and Ferus felt ... something. A slight tingle, maybe.

"It feels good," he said, but Ryn didn't look satisfied.

She leaned back slightly, traced the outline of his muscles with her fingertips again, almost absently. "Have you ever gotten turned on looking at something? Someone?"

She shifted, straddling his crotch, her knees braced to either side of his hips, and the intimacy of the position was embarrassing, but Ferus figured that was a necessary precursor to sex, so he tried not to squirm.

"Like what?"

Ryn shrugged. Black hair slid over her shoulders, bare in her tank top, and Ferus wondered what those glossy strands would feel like brushing against his own skin. "It's your memory, you tell me."

"I don't - I don't look at people like that -" He started to explain how disrespectful that would be and cut himself off. Ryn could probably guess, but she didn't need to hear it.

"Sh, it's okay," she murmured soothingly, and Ferus realized he was tensed all over. "You don't have to have a sexy memory. Just ... I'm going to try something, and you tell me if you like it, okay?"

She pulled back, just a little, taking her hands away from his body, which was a shame as he was just getting used to them there. But then she crossed her arms over her body and gripped the hem of her shirt with careful fingers and ... lifted, slowly, raising black fabric to expose stark white skin. She let go with one hand and flattened it against her own flat stomach, pressing it into the hollow there and sliding slowly down until her thumb toyed with her waistband, teasing under the edge.

Ferus realized she was watching him expectantly.

"That's ... um, that's nice," he said, trying to force some enthusiasm past the tightness in his throat.

It must not have worked, because Ryn shook her head once, a quick negative, and went back to pulling her shirt up. This time she lifted it up to her ribs, letting the fabric come to rest just beneath her breasts, and stretched a little.

"No?" she asked, regarding him quizzically.

"Yes!" Ferus said. "I mean ... you look great."

For some reason, that didn't seem to be the answer Ryn was looking for. She tightened her mouth, just noticeably, and pulled her shirt the rest of the way off in a single smooth move, tossing it to the foot of the bed. "Well?"

She was wearing the sustainer around her breasts, not the bandeau she usually wore but a modified version with little cups for her breasts, silky black things cut so slow he thought he could catch a glimpse of pink, her nipples teasing their way out the top. Ferus stared, trying to figure out how to put his reaction into words.

Ryn sighed. "Ferus, it's okay. If I'm not doing it for you, you can say so. No hard feelings."

Ferus shook his head against the black silk comforter. He had the eerie feeling that Vader had picked it out, which was a kind of kinky he didn't want to think about under the circumstances. He slid his hands up Ryn's sides - carefully, barely making contact, because honestly he wasn't sure how much would be too much, here - and brushed his fingers over the lacy sides of her undergarment. "Can you take this off?"

Ryn almost flinched, or jerked, or something; he could feel the muscles tensing beneath her clear white skin. A little more light, and he'd probably have been able to see them. "Sure," she said, but she sounded hesitant.

"You don't have to," Ferus said quickly. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He spoiled it a little by dropping his gaze to her chest at the end.

"No, it's fine," Ryn said, her voice threaded with quiet laughter. "If I can't get naked with you, this is going to be some very awkward sex." She caught herself and added, "Not that we have to go that far."

Ferus watched, rapt, as she reached behind her back and unfastened whatever clasp held the sustainer in place. It slipped, and as she crossed her arms again and began to pull the straps off her shoulders, the silk fell away to reveal small round breasts as white as the rest of her, crowned with small pink nipples, puckering in the cool air of her bedroom. She pulled the undergarment the rest of the way off and tossed it aside with her shirt, and Ferus touched her gently, tentatively, trailing his fingertips over the hollow of her stomach and then tracing the curve of her ribs, getting closer to the understated perfection of her sweet, pert ...

"I know I don't have fantastic breasts." She said it matter-of-factly. "I think most men prefer them ... larger. But I've always been more athletic than voluptuous." She shrugged. "It works for me. But if these don't turn you on -" she glanced down at her chest briefly "- don't feel badly."

Ferus could feel the smile easing its way onto his face in spite of the awkwardness. "Your breasts are perfect." He finally slid his hands higher, brushing her arms aside to cup his palms over these allegedly not-fantastic breasts. They were slightly warm, and unexpectedly soft in his hands. He kneaded, very gently, not sure what he was supposed to do with this unaccustomed access to another being's flesh, pretty sure that he was supposed to be pleasuring her somehow.

If only he knew what that entailed.

Ryn was watching him steadily, her eyes serious and interested but not, by any standard he could devise, dazed with pleasure.

"Um," Ferus said, kneading again and then taking a guess and rubbing his thumbs across her nipples. "Is this ... are you ... do you like this?"

The corner of Ryn's mouth quirked upward in a barely-there smile. "Not yet."

Not yet? What the hell does that mean? "Um," said Ferus, still holding on to her breasts because he had no idea what else he should be doing with his hands. "Why? Is there something -"

"No, you're doing it fine," Ryn assured him, leaning forward slightly to place her palm over his heart. "I'm just not ... ready, yet."

Meaning she wasn't turned on, either.

Great.

Except that now that he'd managed to make everything even more awkward, Ferus kind of was. At least, he was remembering why it had seemed like a good idea to haul Ryn off her feet and drag her into the bedroom in the first place. It had something to do with her unbelievably good smile, the way it hit him under the ribs and took his breath away, just like it had when they were both kids. He could have watched that smile forever. He wanted to see her smile like that, unexpected radiance lighting his galaxy, when she was sweaty and panting and moving under him ... oh, Force. Because now there was no way Ryn could not notice that he was turned on without her.

That had to be some kind of breach of etiquette.

But Ryn just grinned down at him and shifted her hips a little, not quite grinding. "Yeah?"

Ferus sucked in his breath, watching her move. "Yeah."

He really wanted to just watch her rock like that again and slide against his slowly-growing erection, but that wasn't going to get them where they needed to go. Probably.

He took a deep breath, concentrated hard, and traced a Republic symbol on the bare skin just below her collarbone with his fingers. "How do I ...?"

Ryn cocked her head and waited for him to finish the thought, which was unfortunate because Ferus wasn't sure how to ask what he needed to know.

He licked his lips, slid his hands down to her still-clothed hips, and said, "What next?"

Ryn breathed soft laughter and leaned over to kiss him on the nose. "What do you want?"

I want to have hot, sweaty sex with you, Ferus thought, but he wasn't sure how to get from here to there. He shook his head and went back to basics. "How do I turn you on?"

Ryn shrugged. "I don't know."

Well. That wasn't encouraging.

Ryn caught his look and added, "We'll figure it out together." She shifted against him again, probably feeling the subsidence of his arousal. "I tell you what. Let's figure out what turns you on first, and then, if we're lucky, the rest will just come to us."

Ferus wanted to point out that if inspiration hadn't struck by now, it wasn't likely to, but that hardly seemed productive, so instead he said, a little shakily, "Okay."

Ryn ran her hands over him again. This time it felt better than before: less intrusive, more welcome. "You know," she said, her voice still worlds away from desire, "we could just try the direct approach. I hear some men enjoy sex better if it doesn't involve a lot of foreplay." She ran her fingers under the waistband of his pants, tugging playfully. "Just go straight for the penis."

That sounded alarmingly good. Uncomplicated. But ... "No," Ferus said, pulling her hand away with some reluctance. "I want to make this good for you." As if I could, anyway.

She didn't quite sigh. "Okay. Then take a minute and try to imagine something you think might feel good, and we'll try it."

The problem was that Ferus had never had much of an imagination. He was good at following instructions, at solving specific problems, but he wasn't inventive. He had fantasies, of course - most of them involving the woman currently straddling his hips, which should be a turn-on but was just way too nerve-wracking because the potential for disaster here was overwhelming, and he didn't think he could stand it if he blew his last chance with her - but that was different. Those fantasies mostly skipped over this part and cut straight to the bit where he brought them both screaming over the edge, together. And as satisfying as it was in fantasy, he didn't think it was likely to actually happen like that. After all, somehow they had to get naked first. And afterward ... well, lack of experience plus the time since his last orgasm did not lead him to any encouraging conclusions about what his performance was going to look like.

And last time, admittedly, she'd been sent to kill him, but he had been terrible. There was a lot to make up for, here.

"Ferus." Ryn nudged him gently, a move with her hips that bespoke years of riding various animals, a vestige of her upbringing outside the Republic. "You're overthinking again."

"Sorry," Ferus murmured, spreading his fingers against the smooth skin of her stomach just to see the contrast in their skin tones. "I just want to get this right." He cleared his throat. "I want it to be better than last time."

Ryn frowned. "Last time I was sent in to kill you. I feel like we've already improved on that scenario."

Well, yes.

Ferus could feel himself blushing, which meant that the blood wasn't elsewhere where it might be doing more good, but on the other hand, the way things were going it might not be needed down there for a while. He said, "I came really fast."

"Under the circumstances, I don't think you were under any obligation to last all night," Ryn said, still not getting it. "I mean, the best thing that can really be said for that night is that we both survived it."

Trust Ryn to pare a complicated and utterly humiliating issue down to the bare essentials. "I just ... you're not going to try and kill me tonight, are you?"

"No, I feel like we've moved past that stage," Ryn said.

Ferus thought he could detect a bite of sarcasm in her tone, but with Ryn it was always hard to be sure. "Just checking." He shifted. "What I'm trying to say is: I'd really like to ... you know ... I'd like for things to be different."

"They're different," Ryn said. She stretched forward to caress his face with her fingertips. "We're on the same side, more or less. That's pretty different."

Ferus shook his head, frustrated beyond words with her inability to grasp what he was saying, and frustrated with himself for being unable to simply spit it out. "How do I make you come?" he blurted finally.

Ryn blinked, taken aback. "I have no idea," she admitted. "I've never had to ask before. It's like ... I don't understand. You were aroused earlier. So was I. What's changed?"

Ferus squirmed a little. Part of him wanted to pull away from her, but that would mean giving up, and he wasn't ready to do that yet. Not quite.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess ... maybe we're just overthinking things, like you said."

"You were hot in the hallway," Ryn pointed out. "Then we got to the bedroom and I swear you started ... planning every move. I don't really want to feel like a mission. I'd like to feel like you were enjoying yourself. Even if that means I don't get quite what ... even if I don't come, I'd rather things weren't so ... deliberate." She bit her lip, frowning down at him. "Is that okay? Can you even do that?"

Ferus ran his fingers down her synthleather-clad thighs and shrugged. "Be spontaneous? I can try."

(~)

Ryn fell backwards onto the bed when Ferus flipped her, and barely had time to catch her breath before he was kissing her mouth, hard and hot and determined. It was ... not exactly what she'd imagined, but it was okay.

Then he stretched against her, and she felt the warmth of his bare skin against hers and arched into him because that, at least - simple, human warmth - felt amazingly good. She tore her mouth free and gasped, "Sheets!"

It wasn't exactly a coherent request, but fortunately Ferus understood her. He rolled away, turning to kick off his boots, and she shucked her own pants and crawled fast under the covers, twisting to meet Ferus as he followed her in, surprising her with the roughness of his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the mattress.

Their mostly-naked bodies heated the sheets and drove away the chill of formality outside their little nest of covers; they moved together and found an easy pleasure in the friction of skin against skin. Ferus moved to kiss her neck and this time it was better than before. Ryn threaded her fingers through his hair and gasped his name, and Ferus moaned low in answer and sucked harder, leaving love bites in his wake before finding her earlobe and then Ryn forgot to analyze his technique because she was too busy arching off the bed and crying out.

Ferus ran his free hand up and down her ribs, fingers spreading to cover as much of her skin as possible. Ryn wasn't exactly sure why he did that, but she liked it anyway. It didn't stimulate any major erogenous zones she was aware of, but the gesture made her feel ... safe. Cherished.

"Oh, sweetheart," Ferus whispered into her hair, nuzzling his way back down her neck. "Ohhhh. So good ... Force, so good ..." He pressed his lips into her collarbone, and this time it was good, because she could tell he meant it, and then he stretched over her again, kissing around the line of her jaw, murmuring sweet and entirely unexpected nothings against her skin, broken words of praise softened with kisses.

Ryn ran her hands down his back and felt him shudder. Yes. She did it again and whispered his name. Ferus bucked once, hard: she could feel the muscles clenching. He gritted something between his teeth and slid one hand up to caress her breast, tentatively; apparently he was a little shy after the anticlimax of his first attempt.

Ryn twisted beneath him to get one hand free and press his palm more tightly to her rounded flesh, feeling the nipple pucker into his callouses.

Ferus made an inarticulate noise of appreciation and ducked, sliding down the bed to take her breast in his mouth.

He was painfully inexperienced and it was clear he had no idea how to do what he was trying to do, but on the other hand he was putting a lot of concentration into the effort, and even if he was getting spit everywhere, it didn't exactly feel bad. Just ... unfocused.

Ryn wound her fingers in his hair again and pulled his mouth closer, pressing into her skin. "Suck," she whispered, trying to sound suggestive instead of demanding, and gasped when he followed directions and sucked her - lightly at first, then harder.

"Yes! Oh, like that ... Force, yes."

Ferus pulled free, and Ryn scowled, fighting a whimper in the back of her throat, but then she realized he was just moving to the give her other breast the same treatment, and she tried to remember not to be a selfish lover and skimmed her hands over his skin again, everywhere she could reach. "That feels good," she murmured, trying to sound reassuring because he'd seemed to need it, earlier.

She thought she might be able to identify the noise Ferus made in response as affirmative, but it was hard to be sure.

He left off his attention to her breasts in order to slide back up the bed and claim her mouth again, which Ryn would have protested, except that he was so clearly enjoying himself now. He stretched over her so they were pressed together from chest to knee, and Ryn could feel the breath stuttering through his chest, feel his heartbeat kicking higher, feel his arousal straining against her, down low.

"Mmmm," she said, and reached between their bodies to pull at the pants he was still wearing.

Ferus' breath caught in his throat. "Are you sure?" he whispered, and for a second he sounded so much like Anakin that Ryn felt herself reeling backward in time, fifteen again and finally getting her best friend to take her virginity.

"I'm sure," she whispered, and shoved the pants down his hips.

Ferus liked to do things correctly; he rolled away to get rid of the pants instead of taking her with them bunched around his knees, and rolled back to heat her up again.

"We can take longer," he whispered, and that was probably smart, would give her a better chance of coming, but she wanted to prove to Ferus how badly she wanted him, wanted to do this before something went wrong again, so she shook her head and gasped, "Now," and guided him to her entrance with a little, startled laugh for how hot his aroused flesh was against her finger.

If she hadn't felt his pleasure, steeping the room in shudders of delight, Ryn would have interpreted the noises he was making as pain. He moaned as he entered her, a little bit at a time, half-swallowing a shout of pleasure every time he eased forward.

"Oh. Uuuungh. Ohhhh. Yeeessss. Aaaah, oohhhh, uuuuuunnnnn... ah, ah, ah ... Ryn, oh, Force ... n-no, please, not yet ..."

That meant, probably, that he was close to his release and didn't want to be; Ryn held her hips very still as he stretched her, which was hard because it had been so damn long that she was painfully tight, hardly more ready for penetration than she had been as a virgin, all those years ago. At least this time there wasn't anything to tear. She stroked her fingers up and down Ferus' shoulder as he ducked his head and froze, intent on not coming, and waited to see which way things would go.

(~)

No, please no, not yet, I just want to ... no, Force, please not like last time, please no, please no, just a little longer, a little longer, want to get it right this time, Force help me, please ...

Ferus bit his lip hard enough to bring blood; later, he'd taste the salty-metallic flavor in his mouth and remember why. At the moment the only thing he could really feel was the urgent, shuddering tension coiled low in his gut and throbbing behind his balls, and the still-more-desperate need to notcomeyet.

Ryn was understanding, mostly. She lay still and held onto him and waited for the urgency to subside - or for him to fail, maybe, whichever came first. Ferus was grateful for her patience, but he was also embarrassed for the necessity, which turned out to be the saving grace; it's easier not come your brains out if you have a healthy dose of shame to counteract the arousal. He gritted his way back from the brink of orgasm to a place where he could find at least a little bit of his Jedi training, denying the flesh, and eventually he could breathe again.

Oh, thank the Force.

And Ryn was still with him, pretty much; she was watching with wary eyes, but she hadn't gotten disgusted and told him to get off, so that was probably a good sign. Cautiously Ferus slid one hand between their bodies and tried to find her clit. He only knew about its existence from diagrams, which wasn't particularly helpful, but it seemed like it might be worth a try.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, risking a quick glance at her face.

Ryn shifted uncomfortably. "It's okay," she answered. "It's been a long time. And if you've ... if you don't want any more, there are ... other things we could ..."

"No!" Ferus said quickly. "I didn't ... I mean ..." He grinned, a little self-consciously. "I'm still with you, here."

"Oh." Ryn blushed faintly; the fact that he could tell suggested that maybe she wasn't as aroused as she needed to be. "Okay, then. That's ... good."

Try and sound a little less certain, why don't you? Ferus finally found a little nub, hidden at the top of the folds that surrounded the base of his penis; he stroked lightly with his thumb and heard Ryn's breath stutter, saw her eyelashes tremble. Felt her muscles grip him inside and oh Force almost lost it again.

He didn't dare trust himself to thrust, so he held still inside her, so taut his muscles were practically singing with tension, and rubbed her swollen clit again and again, losing his mind every time she clenched. He was pretty sure he was making more noise than she was, but when Ryn's sheath moved from erratic clenching to a more constant tremor, quivering and trying to find purchase somewhere, he gave up on keeping his cool and lowered his head and just howled into the dark hair spread across the pillow, feeling his own muscles tighten in response and jerk his hips forward, whether he wanted them to or not. He probably screamed her name.

That was okay, because she was moaning his. She started bucking under him, muttering, "I'm sorry, I can't - Ferus, please, I can't - oh, oh - sorry, I just - aaaah -"

"Stop apologizing," Ferus gritted, amazed that he could still form a coherent thought. "Come on. Come on."

She found a rhythm inside, clutching at him and then releasing as her hips rose and fell, and Ferus sucked in a relieved breath, because that meant she was finally getting hers and he could let go, and he started to move, thrusting into her a little too hard because he'd been waiting ten years, damn it, and Ryn shook her head desperately against the pillow and begged, her voice hoarse. "No! Ferus, please, I need ... aaaah ... please, no, just ..."

But it was too late; he couldn't hold back any more. She gripped him one more time and he lost the last vestiges of control and came, hard and hot and aching, and barely remembered not to collapse on top of his partner.

And it wasn't like before, it was worse, because this time Ryn keened, low in her throat, her breathing harsh, and her fingers dug into his shoulders as she bit into her lip, hard, to stop her protests, every muscle in her body tight and begging for a release that wasn't coming.

Oh ... fuck. He hadn't thought he could actually do this worse than coming on penetration. But apparently there was a new level of shame. And guilt, because really Ryn had deserved better.

"I'm sorry," he panted, figuring an apology was only polite, and Ryn uttered a little shriek of frustration and shoved at him, trying to get clear.

Which was only fair, considering what he'd just done.

But instead of pulling out, he braced one hand on the mattress and leaned into her, locking their hips together, and slid his thumb over her again and again and again, feeling her little shudders start over, her body trying hard to get a grip on his, and laughed a little when he realized that she was actually making him hard again. He'd been pretty sure he was too old for that kind of refractory period, but he wasn't going to argue with it.

Ryn writhed under him, uttering hushed little cries of need, and it was putting a strain on his concentration, but on the other hand he'd had ten years to think about this moment, and so he started grinding his hips against hers in time to the way he circled his thumb over her, and felt her gasp and shake and clutch at him in desperation.

She finally came unwound in a series of spasms so hard that the strongest ones actually hurt his dick, and then left her sobbing and gasping for breath, holding onto him until he kissed her quiet.

"Force, you're good," he murmured into her mouth, tasting her sweetness.

Ryn shook her head at this. "Why -"

"Shh." He didn't have the words to explain how good it felt to watch her come. "Can you take a little more?"

"I - yeah." She pulled her knees up around his hips as he began to move, held him close as he thrust closer to satisfaction. Laughed a little, probably at the noises he was making, but Ferus just laughed back and held her tighter. He'd been waiting too long to give up now.

He actually fell on her when he came, but Ryn just grinned and ran her fingers through his hair. Ferus rolled to the side, dragging her with him, and heaved a sigh of contentment.

The last thing he remembered, as sleep claimed him, was Ryn pulling the black silk covers up around their naked shoulders.

Which is why he didn't quite understand about Vader and caf in the morning.