Easier Said than Done
aka the Tragen Looks Damn Good in the Expatriate Armor fic. 😂😏👀
---
A Jedi's strength was in her focus.
There were other things as well, of course. Compassion. Justice. Defending the Republic, fighting Sith, keeping peace. But unwavering focus regardless of distractions was the bedrock on which those were built, and the hallmark of a good Jedi.
Jaesa was, by that metric, not being a good Jedi.
It was Tragen's fault.
Certainly, previous visits to this planet meant they were familiar with the climate. Certainly, that climate was hot enough to warrant--necessitate, even--wardrobe adjustments. Jaesa had opted for a lightweight tunic, single layer, breathable fabric, so she understood wearing something different to counter the heat.
But at least hers had sleeves.
Then again, she mused, sneaking a sidelong glance at Tragen as they walked, she'd seen him in a tank top before. Training, relaxing, sleeping, before and after they were together. Sure, he had nice arms(really nice arms), but they'd never done this to her before. She bit her lip. Which meant it was either the gauntlets--fingerless, with flexible light metal plating that stopped just shy of his elbows, and a lining sleeve underneath that came slightly higher--or the cut of the tank top itself.
That was probably it. The combination of higher collar and covering right to the edge of his shoulders in front, with the deep, wide cuts in back that covered little more than his spine and just above his belt. Though the way the gauntlets drew attention to his biceps didn't help.
She should really be thinking about why they were here. The negotiations. Sussing out if anyone had dishonorable intentions. Making sure nothing happened to disrupt the peace talks--
(Three white lines curved back along his ribcage, scarred deep by rakghoul claws over decade ago. She wanted to trace them with her fingertips like she did when they--)
"-Jaesa."
She flinched at the interruption, head snapping up. "Hm?"
Tragen was looking over his shoulder at her as he walked. "Is everything alright? You were starting to lag..."
She was. Jaesa cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Just, um, lost in thought. Today's going to be tricky."
"A bit." He nodded in agreement. "The number of attendees will make it no easy task. But so long as we're both on guard, I believe it shall be fine."
Don't get distracted, in other words. Easier said than done when the way he'd turned accentuated the muscles in his back and made his shirt shift so she could see the circular burn just to the left of his spine.
"I'll stay alert while we're there," she promised, though she had no idea how she'd keep that if he was anywhere in her line of sight.
"As will I," he said with a smile as he turned his gaze forward once more.
Oh, stars, she hoped he hadn't picked up what she was thinking. Not that she minded if he knew she found him attractive, but right now it was distracting to the point of embarrassment. They were working. This was a mission, she was on-duty. There was a reason she was here, and ogling him was not it. Those thoughts could wait for later. When lives weren't depending on her ability to focus.
(And on the surroundings, not the way Tragen's gauntlets drew attention to his biceps and the natural follow-through to his shoulders and how all of it together made her want to grab fistfuls of the shirtfront and kiss him until neither of them could breathe anymore.
Among other things.)
This time she was just aware enough to stop herself from walking into Tragen's back when he slowed his pace.
"We're here," he said, gesturing to the low gazebo a stone's throw ahead. "After you."
"Oh, thank you." Jaesa had never been so grateful for the flashes of decorum that held over from his upbringing. Still, even with him behind her, guiding hand light on her waist, it was easier said than done to wrench her thoughts in a more appropriate and professional direction.
She managed, thank the stars, meeting the host with a smile--even as he greeted them with small talk about the wisdom of 'dressing for the weather'. It took enough effort to keep her focus in the right place she barely registered the absent-minded caress of Tragen's thumb at the curve of her hip--and almost missed the early shimmer of something across their Bond before he cut it off and suggested they get to work.
---
The meeting went without a hitch. No threats, no shenanigans, and after a brief moment to pause and fall back on her training to center herself, Jaesa did manage to keep her thoughts from veering off the task at hand. She and Tragen accepted the host's effusive thanks the Alliance had been willing to step in, that the Commander himself had come, and then headed back for their shuttle.
"Nice to have an easy one for once," Jaesa commented as they walked.
"Indeed," Tragen nodded, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. His hand settled at her waist again. "It was a relief to have it not warrant the vigilance we thought would be required."
Her neck warmed and she ducked her head. But she did give into the temptation to slide her arm around his waist as well, fingers more-or-less on purpose brushing bare skin as she did, and bit back a smile at the shiver that rolled through him. "I am sorry I was distracted on the way."
"That was unlike you," he said, fingers tracing small, light circles at her hip. "What-"
How did he not know?! "You," she blurted before she could overthink or--more likely--spontaneously combust. "You were distracting me."
It was gratifying to see the flush creeping up around his neck and ears to match hers. "Ah." He was silent a moment, the shuttle coming into view before he spoke again. "I am flattered, but, if I may... that's never been a... struggle for you bef--"
"You've never worn a shirt like this before!" She swooped her fingers across one of the exposed sections of his back to emphasize her outburst. "I'm used to seeing your arms, that's not the problem. But it... flaunts part of what I'm used to only seeing when we're alone, and I-I..." the words trailed off in a flustered exhale, and she raked her hands through her hair, staring semi-straight ahead rather than look at him. If her face got any hotter she really was going to combust.
"Jaesa." Tragen stopped her with a chuckle at the base of the shuttle ramp. "As I said, I'm flattered. And if it helps..." he turned her to face him, one hand resting on each of her hips, and whispered in her ear, "...I had a similar problem."
She started, embarrassment forgotten as she met his eyes. "What?!"
"This is a very good color for you," he said softly, rubbing a fold of her deep teal tunic between his fingers. "And it drapes well." His hands slid to the small of her back and then returned to her hips. "And it is so. very. soft."
It was very comfortable, she had to admit. And she was keenly aware of it as he spoke.
He chuckled again, sheepishly. "It's made it rather easier said than done keeping my hands--and thoughts--off you." He kissed her forehead. "Though I don't think I had as much of a struggle as you."
She briefly considered smacking him(not hard) for the teasing note in his voice, but she did have it coming. So Jaesa rested her hands on his arms, just high enough for her fingers to brush skin. "Mind you, I do like this shirt," she said playfully, "just maybe a little too much."
"I'll endeavor to remember that," Tragen said. He smiled and leaned in to whisper, "I'll promise to wear it again if you promise it'll survive the trip home."
She snorted--"Easier said than done"-- and felt the laugh rumble in his chest as she grabbed two fistfuls of said shirt to drag him in for a kiss as they stumbled up the boarding ramp. As she'd envisioned earlier, she didn't let him go until both of them were breathless.
And then went in for more.
After all, a Jedi's strength was in her focus.
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