#if you read this far thanks! go disable the microphone in your devices never use voice assist and don't buy a ring/alexa/etc

[mayra-quijotescx]

In Ancient Greece and Rome, depictions of genitalia or sexual acts in art, jewelry, and gestures were used to ward against evil (often specifically by blinding the evil eye) and to invite protection to the wearer or gesturer, as evil was thought to be scandalized and repelled by explicit references to sexuality. Fast-forward to today, where advertisers and social media platforms have waged an extensive war against images of nudity and sexuality in order to claim online spaces as 'safe' for advertising products. In this essay I will

[sassysnowperson]

That last prompt was amazing!!! If you're still accepting prompts, could you do "... I just found out you're gay/bi/pan..." With Baze and Chirrut?? 😃

So this is from a while ago, so thanks for letting me save it for when I wanted another break from long-form stuff! (Though, this is still fairly long. There’s a readmore, of course)

Read it on Ao3

“What are we?” Chirut asked his class.

“Smart and strong!” the nine children answered.

“What else are we?”

“Safe and Healthy!”

“Aaaaand?”

There was an intake of breath and a moment of silence, before nine children bellowed as loud as they could, “POWERFUUUUUUUUUUULLLL!”

“Yes we are! Very good work everyone, I’ll see you next week.” Chirrut bowed to the class, heard the rustle of the clothes as they bowed back. Then the class dissolved into chatter as they moved towards the small gate that separated the sparring space from the observation area.

Chirrut made his way over to the half-wall separating the room to where he heard a man, slightly larger than him, clear his throat. He moved through the sounds of the space toward the familiar creosote cologne. “Ben! Good to see you.”

Chirrut flashed a grin he had heard described as “shit-eating” in Ben’s direction.

Ben gave the obligatory groan. “Good to see you too.”

“I’m glad you were able to come by. Luke’s doing beautifully.” Chirrut tilted his head over to where he heard Luke chattering, excited, with Jyn and Bodhi.

“Yes, yes, you were right. It’s good to see him happy. And making friends. I still wince every time he spars, though.”

“He lost a hand, Ben, he didn’t become an invalid. When you have a disability the whole world tells you you’ve lost something irreplaceable, and now you’re helpless. Sparring helps him feel strong again. Besides, did you see the way he broke through Bodhi’s defense? He’s a top-rate fighter, one arm or two.”

“You don’t need to lecture me, I know.” Ben sighed. “I know. But you’ll have to excuse me if it doesn’t feel just a little unusual to cheer for a one-armed child fighting another child in a wheelchair. It’s a bit of a paradigm shift.”

Chirrut chuckled, “Taught by a blind teacher and cheered on by their deaf best friend. It’s the entire point of what I’m trying to do here, Ben.”

“And I’m grateful we met and I had the chance to find out about it.” Ben’s patted the top of Chirrut’s forearm.

Chirrut brought his other hand over and covered Ben’s hand. “Speaking of how we met...you know, Ben, if Luke is at his aunt and uncle’s tonight…” Chirrut pitched his voice low, subtly running his thumb over Ben’s knuckles and leaning closer.

Ben made a disapproving noise and pulled his hand back. Even quieter than Chirrut, he responded, “I told you, I’m not sleeping with you while you’re teaching Luke. That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“That’s your rule. I never agreed to it.” Chirrut grinned up at Ben, but nevertheless leaned out of his heat.

“Besides, Chirrut, you are a very good lay—”

“You know it.”

“—But I’m ready to settle. And as much fun as we’ve had, I’m never going to be the one who gets you to settle down.”

Chirrut smoothed his face out to an impassive slate. “It is important to reasonably assess your abilities and know what is or isn’t safe for you to do,” he intoned

“That sounds like something you tell your kids.”

Chirrut felt cheer crinkling at the corners of his eyes again. “It is.”

“Don’t take it as a slight. You’re far from my worst partner. That would be the one that got himself locked up and left me with shared custody of his child.”

“Ben, you have had the shittiest luck with men.”

“Tell me about it. Well. I did alright with you. You’re just in love with your straight roommate. Not nearly so bad by comparison.”

Chirrut thought he did a fairly good job hiding his recoil as he tried very hard not to think about Baze. He opened his mouth to brush off the comment but before he could clumsy footsteps ran over and a bright voice started saying, “Uncle Ben! Mr. Erso says that he works in a science lab and if we want to we can tour it! Can we go?”

Chirrut gave a small wave as Ben was pulled away, and started setting up the room for his six o’clock class.

Chirrut let out a filthy moan as he entered the apartment and the scent of ginger and scallions and lemongrass filled his nose. He made his way over to the kitchen where the aroma originated, something sizzling in a wok, low base notes of Baze’s humming underpinning the scene.

He walked over to where Baze was cooking, reaching out with a hand and brushing Baze’s elbow, using that as a guide to pull himself in and up on his toes, resting his chin on Baze’s shoulder. “Smells amazing. You spoil me.”

Chirrut felt the grunt vibrate in Baze’s chest. “Who says it’s for you? Get your own food.”

“You’re making enough for two.” Chirrut reached from behind to get at the pan only to have Baze swat his hand out of the way.

“Go set the table.” Baze grumbled, which was as good as an admission. “No, wait, go shower. You reek.”

“Good to see you too.” Chirrut snapped back, going off to the bathroom regardless.

As he soaped up under the spray Chirrut did not think about Baze’s broad back and strong arms and the way he perpetually smelled like machine oil mixed with something sharp and fresh and green. He had been friends with Baze since before he could remember, lived with him as soon as the both of them had enough money to get a place of their own.

Much of their relationship worked because Chirrut didn’t think about Baze. Baze, who cooked and cleaned and didn’t leave things in the walkways and belly laughed at Chirrut’s dumb jokes. Baze, who was kind and supportive and knew the names of every one of Chirrut’s kids. Baze, who had been the standard that every guy in Chirrut’s life had failed to live up to. Who was, tragically, very, very straight.

Chirrut got out of the shower, not thinking about Baze. He slipped into the most comfortable pajamas he had and went out and ate dinner with his best friend.

Baze was upstate for some union meeting, and Chirrut had been left to his own devices. Chirrut always felt like he spun out a little whenever Baze was out of town on a business trip. Baze kept him grounded, kept him making healthier decisions. Chirrut picked up a box of takeout food and a young man; he enjoyed both to a degree of excess he wouldn’t have if Baze were in the apartment.

Sending the night’s distraction on his way with an affectionate kiss, Chirrut opened a bottle of wine and settled in for a some lazy listening to the local news.

“We’re here with the head of the Local Sheet Metal Worker’s 601, Baze Malbus. Baze, we understand your union is preparing to march with protesters to put pressure on congress to support legislation banning employment discrimination for LGBTQ workers.”

Chirrut quickly set down the wine and leaned toward the television. Baze hadn’t told him this was a LGBTQ protest. He should have invited Chirrut—Baze’s gay best friend—along. Chirrut would have happily worn his hotpants. Reliable witnesses informed him he was very attention-getting in them.

Baze’s familiar deep voice responded, using a tone Chirrut thought of as his I’m-Still-Not-Sure-How-I-Ended-Up-In-A-Leadership-Position-But-I’m-Doing-My-Best tone of voice. “We’re pleased to join with the long history of labor unions pushing for LGBTQ rights. People shouldn’t be able to be fired for who they choose to love, and the Local Sheet Metal Worker’s 601 is proud to support that.”

Chirrut felt a happy warmth rise in his chest. Baze was non-political by nature, but when he committed, he committed deeply.

The interviewer gave a little chuckle, “It’s not a matter that has much professional relevance to you, though. I can’t imagine too many gay men go into metal-working.”

Baze was quiet for a moment. Chirrut leaned in more, grinning. Baze was going to tear this reporter to shreds.

“You have made a number of assumptions that I find deeply ignorant. First, neither our union nor our profession are exclusive to men, we have a number of passionate active woman and your statement disregards them.”

The reporter made to pull the microphone away.

“I have not finished. Second, the fight for employment equality is important regardless of whether or not someone personally knows someone who is affected.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to insinuate—”

“And lastly, I can’t speak for any of my peers, but this legislation does impact me personally, as well as professionally. Though, I prefer the label bisexual. Good day.”

Chirrut stared at the television for a good five minutes before he became aware the interview had moved on. He turned off the television with an angry jab, stood up and began pacing about the apartment, trying to think.

On one hand, Baze was fighting for a cause he believed in and shutting down reporters who made bigoted assumptions. Chirrut pivoted and started walking the other way. On the other hand if Baze Malbus was at all attracted to men, Chirrut would be the one to know.

Baze had lied. On television. Why? To make a point?

But it didn’t sound like Baze had been lying. Chirrut was no magical blind human lie detector but he knew his best friend. Chirrut kicked out into the open air, frustrated and confused. He knew his best friend, and his best friend was straight. From age five, when the two of them had met in Taekwondo class, Baze had only ever had been with women. Had only ever been with three women, as a matter of fact. Two of those relationships lasted years. Chirrut would have known if a guy had caught Baze’s eye. Chirrut would have known if he could have ever had a chance.

And that’s what hurt the worst. Chirrut had loved Baze since he was five years old and the Baze had taken him at his word and punched him as hard as he could, not going easy on Chirrut just because he was blind. Had loved him from a distance, because Baze had never once shown a smidgen of interest. So Baze, whether his little ‘Bisexual’ comment was true or false, had made a mockery of everything Chirrut had felt for him.

Chirrut had almost two days to figure out what to say to Baze, when Baze got back home. He had crafted and disregarded what felt like thousands of scripts, ranging from silly to serious to furious. In the end, words weren’t Chirrut’s strong suite. Action was.

As he heard the front door open and close and the Baze’s heavy footfalls through the room he almost reconsidered his course of action.

Baze paused, his movement after that was softer, bare feet, not in boots. The creak of the kitchen floorboard, liquid filling into a mug.

No, too late to reconsider. There was no graceful way out of this, after all. Besides, it should answer some questions.

Baze’s steps carried him over to his bedroom door.

Chirrut arranged himself, naked as the day he was born, a little more provocatively across Baze’s bed, propped up on one arm, grinning at the door.

He didn’t admit that the grin was mostly to hide the nerves.

The door opened, and Baze didn’t seem to notice anything for a long few seconds. He tossed his keys on the dresser, took a sip from the mug...and then promptly started coughing. Chirrut felt some small beads of liquid hit him.

“Chirrut! What the hell are you doing?”

“Welcoming you home! I saw your interview. Heard you would appreciate the view.”

Baze groaned. “Of course you would catch that.”

Chirrut wiggled. “So...what do you think?”

Baze took a slow breath in from his nose, and exhaled in a heavy huff. “I think you’re being ridiculous. Put some clothes on.”

Chirrut shoved himself up to sitting. “So it was a lie, then!”

“It wasn’t a lie!” Baze snapped. “Just because I am attracted to men doesn’t mean I want you naked on my bed!”

“I’m your best friend, Baze! How did I not know this?” Chirrut stood up from the bed.

“Maybe because I knew you’d turn everything into a come-on! I don’t want that.” Chirrut heard the sound of Baze setting the mug down, a clatter as hit hard onto the dresser.

“I thought you were better than that sort of stereotyping.” Chirrut stalked toward Baze.

“For the love of—It’s not a stereotype! I just know you! You flirt as naturally as breathing and I can barely handle it now, if it got worse I would—”

“You would what!” Chirrut landed in front of Baze and poked hard at his chest. “Because if the answer is anything other than, ‘Politely ask you to stop making me uncomfortable and watch as I respect your boundaries,’ you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

“Well then I’m not,” Baze’s huge hands landed on Chirrut’s hips, holding him in place. Baze’s voice went low and rough, “because the answer is I would take you to bed and spend the rest of my life regretting it.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a very good lay.” Chirrut said, mostly on instinct, as Baze’s thumbs, running slowly over his hipbones had knocked out all of his higher processing.

“I’m sure the sex would be fine.” Baze sounded sad. “But it might kill me to be one in your stable of lovers. I’d spend the rest of my life hating every other person you bedded. And I know that’s selfish, which is why I have very carefully been avoiding the topic. So please,” Baze took his hands off Chirrut and stepped back, “put some clothes on.”

“You want me.” Chirrut was frozen, turning the idea over in his head. “How long?”

Baze’s hand thudded against his forehead. “That’s what you get out of this? I—fine. Ages. The first…” Baze swallowed, voice sticking in his throat. “...the first time I saw you teach. You were so patient with the kids, so bright, so clearly doing exactly what you loved. You were beautiful. Still are. That’s not the issue.”

“Seriously? I’ve rubbed up against you while skinny-dipping and that wasn’t enough? I had to teach a class of seven-year-olds?”

“It’s always been emotional, for me. No attraction without the emotion first. Chirrut, you come alive while teaching. It was watching you teach that I knew who you were enough to know that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Chirrut groaned. “And then we went out to a bar to celebrate the opening of the studio and I took that redhead home.”

Baze shifted back and forth. “Yeah.”

“You’ve never had a problem with my lovers. You made them breakfast.”

Baze sighed, “You’re happy. It’s what you wanted. And as long as I could tell myself that I was the one you stayed with, that was enough for me. It still is enough for me. So, you’re going to get out of my room, put some clothes on, and we’re both going to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I can’t do that.”

Baze walked over to the bed and sat down hard on it, springs squeaking. His fingers slid into his hair as he rested his head in his hands. “Fuck. I can’t lose you.”

Chirrut walked over and put his hands on the top of Baze’s head, a sort-of benediction. “And I refuse to lose you, too. So, you want to sleep with me, but you don’t want me to sleep with anyone else.”

Baze gave a broken laugh. “Yeah, that’s about the sum of it.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

Chirrut’s fingers slid as Baze looked up, his hands settling again on either side of Baze’s face. Chirrut had no doubt that Baze was scouring his face, looking for more clues.

Chirrut just hoped that Baze knew his sincerity as well as he knew Baze’s. “Commitment, right? Exclusivity? It’s yours.”

“You have never offered that to anyone,” Baze said, careful.

“None of them were you,” Chirrut said, plain.

He felt the shudder go through Baze. Baze’s hands settled around the backs of Chirrut’s legs. Chirrut traced his fingers along Baze’s cheekbone.

“Baze, I’ve loved you since I was five years old. You’ve been the standard none of my lovers could meet. I fall in love with the pieces of you I find in other people.”

Baze tipped his head forward, resting his forehead against Chirrut’s belly. “God.”

“No, just Chirrut.”

After a second Baze’s shoulders convulsed. “You’re terrible. I love you too.”

Chirrut’s long experience with martial arts let him know that the sensation he was feeling now was not-at-all unlike being punched in the stomach.

He felt Baze’s head tip back again. “Are you sure?” Baze asked.

“As I’ve ever been,” Chirrut answered.

“Well then.” Baze’s hands tightened around the backs of Chirrut’s legs and he stood up, lifting Chirrut effortlessly before tossing him down on the bed. Baze pinned him to the bed with a knee, rustle of cloth before Baze’s shirt settled next to Chirrut. “I’ve got a naked man on my bed. Guess I should figure out what to do with that.”

Chirrut grinned up in pure delight. “I have some ideas.”