Hobbie hates to leave Wedge alone, but knows his friend needs to sleep. He also knows it won't come easy now that he's without Tycho, but the poor man looked absolutely exhausted by grief and the long day of the funeral. If nothing else, he's sure to pass out soon by choice or no.

“He arranged a room for us,” Wes murmurs, tugging Hobbie by the hand.

“He didn't have to.”

“I know. He's been trying to keep himself busy.”

Hobbie nods silently, squeezing Wes's hand. It's always been one of the ways Wedge tried to avoid dealing with his feelings. Why not now, when they're at their very worst?

Wes leads him down hallways to a spare room tucked at the back of the Rogue Squadron Headquarters building. It's a simple thing in shades of dun, a single bed and an attached refresher. A decent place to spend a night, and Hobbie is grateful they'll be close if Wedge needs them.

For a moment they just stand there in the middle of the room. Hobbie can't help thinking visiting Coruscant should have been a joyous occasion. A chance to catch up with old friends and meet Wedge and Tycho's new pilots. It's their first time here since the planet was liberated. It would have been their first time seeing Tycho since before Lusankya. Instead, it's this moment of such loss.

Elsewhere, friends will be doing what they always do to mark the passing of a fellow pilot: drinking and telling stories. Hobbie thinks for just a moment of going and finding one of those groups, but the idea of searching for a friend or trying to introduce himself to the new Rogues now is exhausting, and he's so tired himself.

“I'll be all right on my own if you want to head out,” he says.

Wes blinks up at him, and it's like a knife in the heart to see the way his brown eyes shine with tears, no longer hidden now they don't have to be strong for Wedge. He shakes his head silently and takes a shaky step forward, then another, before wrapping his arms around Hobbie and pressing himself close. It's the first opportunity they've had to be alone together, the grieve just the two of them.

“I'm sorry I couldn't tell you in person,” Wes murmurs against him, sounding loud in the too-quiet room. “I wanted to, but I had to come as soon as I heard. I kept thinking about what it must have been like for you. Just another day, you come out of hyperspace with the trainees, another normal checkpoint – and that message is waiting for you.”

Hobbie closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. It had been hard. He remembers it like it just happened a moment ago. Coming out of hyperspace near some backwater planet and almost instantly being hailed. The transmission of the message Wes had left for him. The shocking news of Tycho's death delivered in as smooth and calm a tone as Wes could manage. It wasn't very. Hobbie had been able to hear the tears he was desperately biting back, the shock that covered them.

His arms tighten. “You did what you had to. I'm glad you came here to be with Wedge and didn't wait for me.” As much as I would have wanted you to.

“I still can't believe he's gone,” Wes whispers, tears straining his voice again. “It was so fast. So easy.” He shudders. “I keep thinking it could have been one of us, Hobbie.” Hands clutch in his jacket suddenly as Wes looks up at him. “It could've been you. It could've been that fast and easy, and I never would've seen you again.”

“Shh, I'm here.” Hobbie takes his partner's face in his hands and tries to pass on some calm he doesn't really feel himself. “I'm here,” he says again, thumbing at the tears leaking down Wes's face. “I'm not going anywhere, Wes. I promise.” He presses a kiss to his forehead, and Wes lets out a shaky little sob.

They stand that way for a while, just breathing each other in, sharing their tears. Finally, Hobbie takes a breath and murmurs, “I'm going to shower. I smell like three days in hyperspace, and I didn't get a chance before. Then we can sleep.”

Wes catches his hand before he can step away. “Let me come with you.”

“Wes,” Hobbie says, trying to be gentle, “I'm not really in the mood for anything.”

“I didn't mean that.” Wes turns those wet, pained eyes on him again. “I just...I don't want you out of my sight right now, okay?”

Hobbie's heart twists. “Okay.” It might be good for both of them. Just to be together, to be close when they're both hurting. “Okay.”

He makes himself move away, knowing they'll be near again soon, and strips as he heads for the refresher. Soon, he has the shower running and Wes rejoins him as they step under the spray together. The warm water feels good, and for long moments Hobbie just stands there luxuriating, letting the grime of his cockpit and the grief and pain of the day be washed away, if only for the moment.

Soon, though, Wes pokes him, and Hobbie looks down to see him holding up fingers covered in foamy shampoo. “Bend over.”

Any other day, they would laugh at the lewd inference, but today is different. Grief is still heavy in the air between them. Hobbie simply bows his head, sighing softly as Wes works the cleanser into his hair. “S'nice,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” Wes smiles faintly as he slows his movements, gently massaging Hobbie's scalp, drawing the motions out before guiding him to tilt into the water and rinse.

They take turns washing each other then, slow, gentle, intimate caresses meant not to inflame but to comfort and reassure. They take solace in each other's familiar bodies, knowing they're not alone in their grief. The warmth of skin is real and grounding, and for awhile they lose themselves in the simple action of cleaning one another.

Finished, they stand again under the spray, Wes's back against Hobbie's chest, the water falling over them like rain. Wes is breathing hard, having grown aroused during their touches, but he hasn't asked Hobbie for anything, respecting what he said earlier. Though he hasn't had the same reaction himself, Hobbie doesn't blame him. Wes is so reassuringly alive like this.

Hobbie touches him, just cradling his partner's half-hard cock in his hand as he murmurs a question in his ear.

“You said-” Wes answers tightly.

“I know. It's all right. I want you to feel good.”

Wes murmurs a soft plea, and Hobbie can do nothing but give him everything. He kisses Wes's neck, drinking in his quiet cries as he draws pleasure from him, feeling Wes's wet skin tremble against his, his soft moans echoing in the tiny refresher.

It doesn't take long before Wes spills over Hobbie's hand, shuddering out his peak with a sob of Hobbie's name before melting back against his chest. Hobbie kisses his cheek, his temple, as he gently rinses them both off again.

When he's had a few moments to recover, Wes regains his feet and turns, glancing down at Hobbie's still-soft cock with a silent question in his eyes.

Hobbie draws him in for a tender kiss. “I'm all right.”

He knows Wes could get him there, too, if he let him, could give him so much pleasure, but no. It was pleasant enough holding Wes as he lost himself, but for Hobbie it would take more effort. It would be work. He doesn't want that now.

“Should we get out and dry off?”

Wes nods, though instead of moving, he lays his head on Hobbie's shoulder. Sated, he's growing heavier now, dragging toward sleep. It's been a long day for all of them, and the ones ahead are going to be much the same. Hobbie feels weary just thinking about it.

He indulges himself for just a few more moments, letting the man he loves doze against him. He thinks about what Wes said, about how it could have been one of them who was lost. So quick, so easy. He arms tighten just a little around Wes's waist. There would be no life for Hobbie without him.

And he thinks back to Wes, alone on the training frigate, answering Wedge's call. Alone when he heard the news. The shock of it, how hard it must have hit him, how he had no one to turn to. Hobbie feels just as bad not having been there for him.

But they're together now, they're here to support each other and do everything they can for Wedge, and that's what counts.

Gently, so gently, Hobbie steers Wes upright again. “Come on, love,” he murmurs, unable to resist leaning in to peck his cheek. “There's a warm bed waiting for us, and I'm going to hold you close all night long.”

Wes gives him a sleepy little smile as he turns the water off, and Hobbie's heart aches with grief and love.