Rainy Day
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Lothal’s rainy season came in early summer. Gishkem, it was called. The delicate showers of spring would give way to thick black clouds, booming thunder, blistering lightning and driving rain. It would pour nonstop for days. Good snuggling weather. If you had a dry place to do it.

“My tower used to leak so bad,” Ezra complained from his cocoon of blankets and pillows. “I had to put buckets and cups and toolbox trays, anything that could hold water, like, everywhere. Couldn’t take three steps without knocking something over. Everything was wet and damp for weeks. My bed, my blankets. Couldn’t dry my clothes out. And the mold, ugh, it would get so bad. I think one year I actually had mushrooms grow in my closet. Not the eating kind, which I totally would have done.”

Kanan sat beside Ezra on the couch, listening with a fond smile. He was dressed in comfortable lounge clothes and clasping a mug of tea in his hands. The rain drummed on the roof—no holes in this one. Kanan was diligent about making sure it was watertight each year before the rains arrived.

Ezra finished his halfhearted rant with a blustery sigh. “God, I hated gishkem.”

Kanan sipped his tea. “What about now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah. You said ‘hated’. That’s past tense.”

Ezra turned his head, grinning. “I don’t hate it anymore.” He bit his lip and snuggled closer. “In fact”—he trailed a coy hand down Kanan’s chest—“I kinda like it now that I have someone to share it with.”

Kanan, getting the idea, set his mug on the side table and put his arm around Ezra. “Does that mean we could be sitting together in your old tower right now, shivering and soaking wet, and you’d still feel the same?” He tugged a lock of Ezra’s hair teasingly.

“As long as I can suck all the heat outta your body, yeah, I’m good.”

Kanan laughed.

Ezra shrugged off the comforter and crawled into his Master’s lap. “Speaking of which.” He slipped his hands underneath Kanan’s sweater and gave him a look. “You know what the best thing to do on a rainy day is, right?”

Kanan arched his eyebrows. “I have a theory.” And he leaned in, beating Ezra to the kiss.

The heavy gray-blue skies above thundered and poured. They unwrapped each other lazily, kissing, hands wandering, until skin brushed naked skin. They pulled the comforter around themselves and lay down, made slow love surrounded by softness, warmth, and the scent of fresh linen. They climaxed together. A gasp, a grunt. Lightning burst in the sky above. Wind lashed sheets of rain against the sides of the house. But inside they were safe and warm.

Kanan kissed Ezra’s sweaty temple. Trailed his lips down across the scars on his cheekbone. Kissed them, too.

Ezra rested his head over Kanan’s heart and breathed.

They lay together listening to the rain chatter on the roof and let love reign over them.



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