Disclaimer: Most unfortunately I do not own either of these characters, or anything to do with the Clone Wars. If I did, this would be a much happier story.


It happened again.

Though that wasn't what kept his eyes open, staring at the dull gray metal underside of the bunk above, long after lights out.

Not entirely anyway.

It hadn't bothered him when the ARC grabbed his bicep with a firm grip, steering him down a corridor leading to the more unused section of the Resolute. He gone willingly, knowing exactly what the ARC trooper had in mind, and looking forward to it.

It hadn't bothered him as he was led into a secluded room deep in the bowels of the ship. Every trooper knew of this room, but no one spoke of it. He was had a hunch the Jedi generals were aware of it too, but never did anything to dissuade its use.

It certainly hadn't bothered him when the ARC threw him roughly against the wall to press their lips together in a bruising kiss. He returned the advances with enthusiasm, helping to divest them both of the pesky armor hindering wandering hands, bodysuits peeling off shortly after.

And it most definitely hadn't bothered him as he was guided to the floor, the ARC above him, both willing and eager to perform their tangled dance once again.

Together they reached the climax of their passion. He let out a sort of strangled groan, while the ARC called out a name not his. That hadn't bothered him either. But it should have.

And there lay his problem.

The trooper shifted in his bunk, stretching out the aches and pains remnant of his earlier exertions. His mind kept repeating the same question, refusing sleep until it was answered.

Why did it bother him that it didn't bother him?

If he was honest with himself, he knew exactly why it was never his name left echoing in the room. He could never refuse a brother the indulgence of reliving bittersweet memories, even if it only lasted for a few short moments.

And he was okay with that.

Besides, he thought, rolling over and curling up to the pillow, the ARC knew his name, knew exactly who he was each time they visited the room together.

"Thanks, Jesse," the ARC would say after he had caught his breath, resting his head against the other trooper's sweat-slick shoulder.

"Anytime, Fives," he would whisper into the lonely ARC's ear. "Anytime."

This was inspired by a line in laloga's awesome fic The Fighting Kind. You should really go check it out. Right after you leave a review ;)