Eadu was a small world, literally as well as metaphorically. The Imperial outpost held barely more than a skeleton crew. Galen Erso might be brilliant, but he was still held on a short leash. Or at least, that was what the chattier, and older, members of the permanent crew said.

Bodhi listened to them, because he listened to everyone. He'd never been good at making friends, but he was great at hanging along the edges and picking stuff up. That was how he found out that the rotating staff - pilots, assistants, techs, and so on - had a direct line into a very specific part of the Eadu 'net, provided they knew the right people.

Or, in Bodhi's case, provided they eavesdropped on the right people.

He had a two-day layover before he was due to leave with a full ship. He got his communicator out that night, lying in one of the barely-furnished bunks on the far end of the research center.

You couldn't tap in. You just put up your picture, no name, and waited to be contacted. He did that, and then he waited.

One minute, two, three. A room number appeared on his communicator.

He had a chance to panic then, alone as he was. He'd had all day to try and talk himself out of it, and had almost succeeded any number of times. Bodhi didn't think of himself as adventurous in any way. He rarely made friends, rarely went out on dates. People involved risk, and Bodhi hated risk.

And yet, curiosity gnawed at him. If he ignored it, or rejected the number, he'd go back into the pool - or he could pull out entirely, and forget this stupid, stupid idea.

"It's just one person," he told his ceiling. "You can always leave if it's not right."

Okay. He could do this. Up - there he was. Glance in the mirror - he looked the way he always did, which was fine with this person, apparently.

Down the hall. No, the other hall. Up some stairs, up an elevator, down another hall - oh, no. Realization crept onto him as coldly as a drop of ice water down his spine.

This wasn't just the maintenance crew's area, or the mech's wing. This was the science wing. He wasn't just going to some random person, he was going to someone important.

He glanced down at his communicator. They chose you, he reminded himself. They know what they're getting into. Probably.

Two more hallways, and then he just had to count doors. J45, J46, and a long stretch of empty hallway that Bodhi realized meant J47 was the biggest set of rooms on the floor, by quite a bit.

He stood in front of it and said, "Uh, hello?"

The door slid open. Bodhi dropped his communicator to the floor.

Galen Erso said, "Hello."

Bodhi attempted to say something back, like, "Well, shall we?" or something similarly casual, something that implied he dropped in on planet-bound galactically-famous scientists for a quick bout of sex all the time. Instead he managed to make a noise in his throat that sounded a bit like a dying Hutt.

Erso's expression shifted. He was still borderline unreadable, but he looked like this might not be his first time getting an odd reaction. "If this makes you uncomfortable -"

"No!" Obviously a lie. But - "I mean. I don't do this, normally, is all. You, this...it's fine, it's good."

"It's not meant to be a surprise," Erso said. "You tap the number, see? It shows you a picture." He cupped Bodhi's hand in his, rough fingers against the back of Bodhi's palm, and tapped his own room number on Bodhi's communicator.

And there was his picture. It looked like a standard staff picture; Bodhi was surprised he wanted everyone tapped into this part of the 'net seeing it.

"I didn't know it did that," Bodhi said finally. "It's not outlined, or highlighted, or -"

"Yes, we're a bit short on interface people." He said it like it was some kind of private joke. Bodhi found himself, somewhat pathetically, longing to be in on it.

Longing in general. The shock had faded. In its place was a very specifically directed want.

"I'm not uncomfortable," he said again. "I'm...open. Interested. Very much so."

Another expression shift, still impossible to read. "Come in, then." Fingers slid to Bodhi's wrist, pulling him inside.

His quarters were opulent, but it would have taken a far less observant person than Bodhi to notice that he had nothing personal anywhere: no figurines or souvenirs from other planets, no pictures, not even any furniture that didn't look exactly like the rest of the station. He had notes scattered over his desk, though, and on the far side of the enormous, open room, the bed's sheets were rumpled.

Bodhi's mouth went dry at that. Had he been lying there before? Had he been touching himself?

Erso spoke again, very close to his ear this time. "If there's anything you don't want...that channel is entirely private. You won't lose anything by saying no, or leaving. I don't have leverage here."

Bodhi blinked. "I know that."

"Ah. Then." It was Erso's turn to be awkward, waving a stiff hand at the bed.

But while Bodhi wasn't scared about professional reprisal, he was still who he'd always been, which was to say nervous and uncertain. Instead of going to the bed and attempting casual seduction, he turned his body towards Erso's and reached up to touch the back of his neck.

Skin. Hair. He was human after all. He'd never really looked as much, the times Bodhi'd seen him.

Bodhi leaned in and kissed him.

Erso made a sharp, sudden movement, the hand on Bodhi's wrist tightening almost to the point of pain. He wasn't used to this, Bodhi realized; he kissed like a man who'd been alone for a long time.

When he stepped forward, it was to put his hands on Bodhi's hips, pulling him close so they stood flush against one another. Erso was already hard, Bodhi realized, and through the clamoring of his own nerves and uncertainties, he felt himself respond. Erso bit his lip, tugging his hair a bit, and Bodhi made noise in spite of himself, an embarrassing almost-moan that Erso swallowed with another kiss.

Now he wanted the bed, and it was too far away to get to efficiently. He touched Erso, running a hand down his back and over his ass - and then watched in disbelief as Erso shuddered, dropping his head onto Bodhi's shoulder and saying, "Please, yes," into the fabric of Bodhi's coat.

"Over - over to the bed." He nudged Erso in that direction, then pushed him harder when Erso didn't initially respond. "I'll give you what you want. I promise." He darted in for a kiss, open-mouthed, wet and quick.

Erso followed his direction, walking over and pulling his clothes off, quickly and impersonally. But even those movements made Bodhi's mouth go dry. Erso's shoulders were broader than he'd thought they'd be, his legs less spindly than Bodhi's own. And when he turned around, he was hard and flushed, and seeing him made Bodhi move hastily to finish undressing.

It was Erso who sat down on the bed first, pulling Bodhi on top of him. But then - Bodhi pressed him down, a hand on his shoulder, and he felt Erso's response to that. It made him grind down a little harder, biting Erso's shoulder and slipping a hand between them to touch his cock.

Erso breathed sharply. "Oh - not yet."

"Sorry." Bodhi began moving away, but Erso grabbed his hips, holding him there.

"I'd rather keep this interesting, that's all." Erso smiled.

It looked odd on him, foreign, and it was that more than anything else that made Bodhi say, "Well then, I can keep myself amused."

He could. He'd done this before, after all, even if it'd been awhile, and even if he preferred to be a little drunk, all the better to work up enough confidence not to make a fool of himself. Still, he knew how to explore a body that was new to him. And it was a bit of a power trip, the fact that it was Galen Erso who gasped when Bodhi bit his hip, who said, "Yes, more of that," when Bodhi pinched his nipples.

He got a bit carried away. Erso had said not yet, so he didn't touch his cock, but he spread Erso's legs enough to get at his balls, playing with them, watching Erso arch his back and bite his lip against asking for more. He ran his nails up and down Erso's thighs, sat back and pulled his own cock as Erso watched with half-closed eyes.

And then, finally, Erso said, "You'd better come up here," and passed him a small tube of slick.

He'd never done this part before. But he could improvise. Erso guided him anyway, hand locked around his wrist as Bodhi slowly worked his fingers inside. It felt like too much and not enough, crouching awkwardly and getting someone else ready, but then Erso began to move around his fingers - thrusting, muscles rippling - and it was all Bodhi could do to hold it together, to keep his focus where it ought to be.

It only took a few minutes before Erso said, "Enough, enough," and pulled Bodhi up, slicking Bodhi's cock instead. And then it was Bodhi pushing inside, feeling the tightness he'd tried to prepare - and it hurt, he could see it on Erso's face, but the one time he stopped Erso said only, "Do not," raising a leg to pull Bodhi closer.

He didn't want to stop, so he didn't. He fucked Erso instead, hard thrusts that shook the mattress. Everything blurred together after that - Erso was noisy, shockingly so, and it seemed that every time he moaned, Bodhi got that much closer to the edge. When Erso pulled himself up so that they were pressed together again, when Erso bit his shoulder and moaned, Bodhi came - too quickly, too openly, the pleasure that was ripping him apart all over his face.

When he came down, Erso was still lying there, hard and breathless, watching him with an odd sort of calculation in his eyes.

Bodhi didn't want to think. He couldn't think, if he didn't want to embarrass himself. He pulled out instead, and got his mouth on Erso's cock.

It should have been awkward, lying at the end of the bed. He was much more practiced on his knees - men liked him on his knees. That's what he'd thought he'd be getting tonight. But Erso pulled his hair just as Bodhi liked, fucked his mouth so gently that Bodhi could still taste him, could still explore, using his hands and tongue and letting Erso's scent and whispered endearments surround him.

"So good," Erso murmured. "Beautiful, so..."

Bodhi closed his eyes as Erso came down his throat, sucked him through it and waited as Erso softened in his mouth. He wanted this again, wanted it more; he felt like he'd only gotten the tiniest bit of what he'd come for, despite the orgasm that still muddled his thoughts.

This wasn't, he thought as he pulled away, what the 'net was for.

And yet, it was Erso who reached out, stopping him from leaving the bed. "I'm not a young man," he said, which Bodhi didn't have the heart to tell him was obvious.

But then he added, "If you stayed, however...this doesn't have to be over just yet."

Again came that incredibly inconvenient stab of want. He nodded and let Erso pull him down, loop an arm around his waist.

Then he opened his mouth and stupidity come out. "You know, Erso, your bed's a lot nicer than mine."

Erso laughed, warm breath against Bodhi's neck. "Call me Galen. I think we're intimate enough for it. As for the bed..." His finger traced down Bodhi's hip. "You're welcome to avail yourself of it again. I certainly wouldn't object."

It was a very nice invitation, delivered without any actual feeling behind it. Stupid, Bodhi thought. Why on earth expect feeling from - whatever this was? "Thanks. It's a nice change from hauling kyber all over the place, I can tell you that."

Galen stiffened behind him. When he spoke again, the laughter was gone from his voice. "I imagine so."

There was something there, Bodhi thought, some kind of secret or anger that he'd tripped over trying to make smalltalk. He ought to worry about it. In the morning he definitely would. But right now he was tired, his every muscle doing its best to drag him into sleep.

"I should leave." His voice sounded thick with exhaustion even to himself. "Don't think I'll be up for round two."

Hesitation. He felt it in the way Galen moved away infinitesimally, the sudden stillness in the room. He began to push himself up.

A hand on his chest stopped him. "Sleep," Galen said. "The bed's certainly big enough, and -" He paused for long enough that Bodhi almost broke the moment by opening his eyes. "There's always tomorrow, isn't there?"

There was something in his voice, something in this whole room, a tension that Bodhi wanted to dig into until he understood it. The thought terrified the distant part of his mind that was still awake enough to care.

"Yes," he said, much too late to pretend alertness, "there is. I don't even ship out tomorrow."

"Well, then," Galen said. A newly awkward hand patted Bodhi's shoulder.

He fell into a deep sleep before he could worry further. When he woke, it was to Galen watching him, apparently not having slept a wink.

They'd talk later, of course. But that morning, they said very little.