milliways_bar | (no subject)

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baze malbus

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Bodhi's taken to jogging around the lake in the mornings, to keep himself in shape. Having access to such freely available food after years of scrapping for every bite has helped him put back on all the weight he lost but he worries.

Hence the morning run.

However he gets caught on the far side of the lake when the rain comes in. There's not much he can do but keep going, sopping wet by the time he makes it back to the bar. Who offers him a towel.

Catch him outside in the rain or inside drying off.

[tinytag- Bodhi Rook]

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Baze is seated at the bar when Bodhi enters the back door, eating baked coboko fish and drinking cherry almond tea. The larger man's now twice-as-heavy--thanks to Ibani's cortosis core--staff rests against the bar next to him, and he glances to it once Bodhi strides up to the bar to receive his towel. Baze has no intention of sticking around, but...

He should say something. He knows this. But what? Bodhi has made no effort to talk to him and Chirrut, and still appears angry as kriff.

Still. Baze should say something.

"Hoi."

Good enough.

Baze catches Bodhi in the act of lowering his hood, his long hair (and getting longer) dripping wet. He's so focused inward he doesn't see Baze and almost jumps out of his skin at the greeting.

"Baze." Bodhi sounds almost relieved, a hand over his heart in shock.

"Oh, kriff, I didn't mean to scare you," Baze says, holding up a hand. His words are gentle and soft, so much so Bodhi might have to strain to hear them. "It... It's been a while."

He could ask, "how are you?" but that doesn't seem right, somehow. Words bubble up from within him and get stuck in his throat. He takes a gulp of his tea, relieving his parched mouth.

Bodhi doesn't seem angry anymore. Baze wonders what changed.

"It's not your fault. I wasn't- wasn't paying attention." There's a hollowness to Bodhi's voice, dark marks around his eyes. "Otherwise I might have seen the rain coming." He squeezes out his hair with the towel. "Always makes me think of Eadu. Even if it's warmer here."

"You need tea," Baze pronounces, with the ease of a man who has been drinking tea to solve all ills for decades. "I'm drinking cherry almond; it's delicious. Come, sit with me. Tell me about your run."

Bodhi nods and goes over to sit, sniffing the scent of the tea. "Cherry almond. Earth flavours?" He asks, seeming a little muddled. Lack of decent sleep is starting to mess with him.

"Does it ever bother you? The lake, I mean. I keep looking at it but it doesn't seem real."

Baze pats the counter, and Bar provides a second earthenware cup of the fragrant beverage, as well as a pot for refills if necessary. He pushes the mug towards Bodhi, and sets his own unfinished plate of fish aside.

"Earth flavors," he confirms. His tone is still quiet, still mellow. "Almonds are nuts, and cherries are fruits, as far as I know. I've been asking for surprise tea lately, and Bar has yet to disappoint me."

He lifts one armored shoulder in a somewhat-uncomfortable shrug. "The lake... It doesn't seem quite right, does it? That there's so much water in one place? It feels like there's something monstrous hiding in the depths. It's a good thing the beach is warm. Have you been there?"

This... This is fine. Baze can engage in small talk, approaching as benignly if Bodhi is a wounded and wary creature. Oh, Bodhi. Their lost Jedhan pilot. Baze's heart goes out to him, so twisted by pain.

"Thank you." Bodhi breathes in the steam of his cup, the bitter almond and the sweet cherry counter-balance. "So many foods and flavours. All from the one world." He marvels softly, taking a sip. The warmth helps. He isn't cold. Not really. Just wet.

"We left the monster behind. On Jedha." He sounds as if he's trying to convince himself. "In the catacombs."

"So, so many," Baze agrees amiably, lifting his cup in a salute before indulging in the beverage. "Have you ever had fish? It's amazing. The other day, Chirrut and I had baked salmon--that's the fish--and asparagus. That's a long, green vegetable, with a knob on the end."

Baze secretly hopes that Bodhi will find the humor in a long, knobby vegetable, like Chirrut did. It's a test, one which the larger man hopes will bring a smile to the smaller pilot's face. Baze knows that not everyone is twelve at heart, but he can hope.

He sets his teacup aside, folding his hands in front of him on the table to keep from squeezing Bodhi's thin shoulder. "What monster would that be?" Baze asks delicately, shifting his body ever so slightly to appear that much more open. He does not remind Bodhi that any such monster would be destroyed by the Death Star--the destruction of NiJedha is a wound Baze doesn't dare probe.

"Not yet. But I'll ask for it next time." He misses the joke entirely.

He sighs and pushes back his damp hair. "Galen found out. About what Saw did to me. About Bor Gullet." In his introspection, Bodhi doesn't think to wonder if the Guardians knew about the monster Saw kept in the catacombs. About the violations that led to him being a broken mess in the cell next to theirs.

Ah, so Bodhi did miss the joke. That's fine. He's probably not in the mood to laugh anyway, though it would have been nice, Baze thinks.

"What," Baze says, keeping his tone deceptively light, "is Bor Gullet?"

He spreads his hands out. "If you want to talk about it, that is. I don't mean to force you."

Bodhi makes a mildly flippant gesture. Galen knows. There's no point hiding anything any more. "Saw Gerrera didn't believe me when I said I had a message from Galen. He thought I was an imperial spy, just like you did. So he tested me. He kept- a monster. A telepath. In the catacomb. Bor Gullet."

He shudders. He'll never been clean of that, of the feeling of those tentacles wrapping around his wrists, his throat, his temples. "It broke open my mind."

Baze sucks a breath in over his teeth, the first loud, harsh noise he's made since the conversation started. He doesn't say anything, simply opens his arms to the broken pilot. Baze wishes that he wasn't wearing armor; he would have felt more exposed, but at least he would have been able to offer more comfort.

Bodhi all but falls gratefully into the touch, shaking a little.

"I thought you and Chirrut knew." He says after a long moment. "When I was in the cell. I think Cassian knew. He knew what to say, to bring me back."

Baze wraps his massive, powerful arms around the smaller Jedhan, tucking him into the one comfortable spot between the larger man's armors, between his arm and his chest. His arms are warm and soft, but the rest of him is unfortunately cold and hard, due to the armor. He hopes Bodhi doesn't mind.

Tears prick Baze's eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is choked with regret. "No," he says. "No, we didn't know. Oh, Bodhi. I'm so sorry."

Bodhi doesn't mind. Being held helps. Physical contact helps. Something he learnt at his very lowest point. "If Cassian had- I would have been glad if you have killed me. I wasn't- me. Not after that."

He sniffs and shakes his head. "There are still parts I didn't get back. Not till- till here. Till after I died."

Baze leans his cheek against Bodhi's wet hair. When the larger man speaks, his voice rumbles in his chest, vibrating the armor, and Bodhi leaning against him.

"It would have broken anyone," Baze says, offering the pilot a squeeze. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm sorry." He whispers into the hollow created by Baze's arms. "For how things have been. Between us."

"I am, too," Baze says quietly. It's not an apology for beating on Galen. Baze does not regret that, and never will. But he is sorry for how things have been since then.

He feels the sting of tears high in his nose, and remembers the fierce ache of Bodhi's fist slamming into it. Baze recalls the lanky ball of fury Bodhi was when he confronted the Guardians, the unfocused yelling, and the collapse on the ground at the end. He rememebers the way Chirrut was upset by Bodhi claiming he would shoot a kitten.

Baze recalls all of that--and he forgives.

Bodhi can't apologise. What they did, they did. On both sides. But he can move past it. And wants to. "I don't like- I don't want to not talk to you. Or Chirrut."

"We've missed you, too," Baze says, cradling Bodhi in the larger man's arms. "Chirrut... was really upset by your thinking that he would shoot an innocent creature."

"I was scared. I'm sorry. I know he doesn't like cats. It was a stupid thing to say."

It really was a stupid thing to say, but Baze is not about to reprimand Bodhi. At least not in those words.

"He may be deeply ambivalent towards them, but that doesn't mean he would harm one," Baze says gently, pulling Bodhi even closer. "Chirrut still cares. He'd probably appreciate hearing the apology from you rather than me, but we can work on that later. For now, I forgive you. I forgive you, Bodhi."

"When I see him, I will." He promises, leaning into the hug. "I forgive you too."

Baze's heart is light, lighter than it has been since this whole mess started. He smiles, offering the pilot another squeeze. "Thank you," Baze says, drawing Bodhi back to look at him, and cup his cheek. "Now, are you hungry? You should have more tea, and dry off, before you catch a cold."

"More tea. Please? Let me get us some food." He asks the Bar for some of the leftovers from his last bar shift.

A plate of cheeses, pickles and pickled eggs from their own galaxy appears, Finger food from home.

Baze turns back to the bar and tops off Bodhi's teacup from the pot. The larger man whistles at the spread, plucking up one of the pickles and crunching it between his teeth. "Thank you. You worked a bartending shift?"

"It was Emcee's idea. I'm going to try to do it once a month at least. Something to focus on. Something to work towards."

"Good idea," Baze says, popping one of the pickled eggs into his mouth. "Emcee is a good man. Do you have any other hobbies aside from cooking? I brew beer, now."

"I'm starting to grow my own herbs. Our room has a balcony. I like cooking from fresh ingredients. I know it's hard to tell the difference here but it's the way I like to cook."

"Your own beer?" Bodhi's impressed.

"You'd mentioned wanting to do that, but I'm glad you got the garden off the ground," Baze says, beaming at him. The larger man polishes odf his tea, and refills the cup. "I've got stout, red ale, and hard apple cider. I was distilling moonshine in my workshop upstairs, but the still blew up. I've since had the workshop redone, but I kept the lid of the pressure cooker embedded in the roof, as an art piece. I'm calling it 'The Hubris of Man.'"

Bodhi can't help but laugh a little at that, looking better now he's warming up. And now things are better between them.

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