Sneezefic by Nermal

As the bulk of the Star Destroyer approached, Wedge skimmed the tactical display one more time. So far, the scouting mission to Kirkaan had gone smoothly – no Imps, no pirate activity – and the planet looked safe enough from space. Although his report would be positive, it only really meant that the Rebels could send another team down to the surface and determine if Kirkaan could serve as a temporary base. After being chased off Yavin IV, the motley collection of ships, including the Star Destroyer the Rebels had captured and renamed the Astrophil, had served as a military base for the Rebellion. Fresh water and air would be a luxury after so many weeks. As would the knowledge that they were safe, if only for a short time, from the clutches of Vader and the Empire.

"How are we doing, Red Nine?" Wedge flicked his eyes to left as he pulled his X-Wing in closer to the ship.

"Still clear, Red Two." The voice of his wingman, Wes Janson, hinted at the smile Wedge knew was on the man's face. "Let's get home before they stop serving dinner."

Behind him, Wedge's R5 twittered with amusement. The astromech droid scrolled an 'all clear' message across the display and expressed its own wish for a recharge. The scout mission had been long; seven hours in the cockpit made the recycled water and bland food of the canteen sound positively delicious. Wedge bit his lip as he nudged the ship closer to the SD. He'd have to go check on Luke first, no matter how hungry he was.

"Sounds good to me." Wedge replied and switched his comm frequency. "Astrophil, this is Red Two, requesting permission to come aboard. Repeat, Astrophil, this is Red Two."

"Copy Red Two. Come aboard. Good to see the both of you back."

"Thanks! You got nerf steaks waiting for us?" Janson quipped.

"Negative, Red Nine. Will ranat patties do?" A new voice on the comm. The sound of a laughed echoed over the comm as the two snub fighters slid into the hangar and prepared to ease down.

"Sure, we can play smashball with them later tonight."

The slow whine of repulsorlifts powering down accompanied the latest burst of laughter, from both the pilots and control on the Astrophil.

"We're in! Red Two over and out."

"Red Nine out. And you get back to your own ship, Solo."

If the Astrophil looked big on the outside, it did more than live up to that reputation inside. The cavern-like hangar still appeared empty, even with the X-Wings, Y-Wings and Solo's Falcon housed there. The relative quiet of the area added to the feeling; besides the tech droids looking over Wedge's and Wes' ships, there wasn't much activity going on. Taking a look around, Wedge balanced on the edge of his ship, deposited his helmet onto the seat, then hopped down. Wes was already out of his X-Wing, running a hand through his sweat damp hair.

"Skywalker not here to welcome you home?" Wes asked.

Wedge shrugged. Luke did what he could; free time was a commodity just like anything else. Besides, when Wedge had left, Luke was on his way to the med-center. A cold that steadily grew worse over the past two days finally convinced him to go, along with some not so subtle hints from Wedge.

"Guess not." One more look around the hangar. No Luke. "Listen, Wes, you go ahead to the canteen. I'll get something to eat later."

"You sure?" Wes stopped as they entered the corridor. "Everything all right, Wedge?"

"Fine. I think Luke's back from dinner already, I just want to see how he's doing. He's coming down with something."

"Ah. I see, hey, I'll transmit the report if you want. No big deal." Wes gave Wedge of his easy smiles.

"Are you sure? I can do it afterwards." Something funny twisted in the pit of stomach at the thought of delay. Luke would be fine, just because he hadn't been at the hangar didn't mean anything.

"I'm positive. Besides, I'll get Hobbie to go with me. He," Wes paused for a second, his smile turning downright evil, "owes me a favor, so to say."

Wedge let out a quiet sigh of relief. Reports, even simple ones like this, could take a few hours. And those few hours meant the galaxy to Wedge; he was getting anxious enough walking the corridor to his chambers, thinking about Luke. He'd have to make it up to both Wes and his lover, the every-patient, long-suffering Hobbie Klivian.

"Thanks, Wes. I owe you one, too." Wedge smiled with surprise as he noticed Wes had led him to his quarters. Wes smirked and turned to go, heading toward the canteen.

"Later, Red Two." And Wes disappeared around the corner, leaving Wedge to punch in the key code to his quarters.

As the door slid open Wedge unzipped his flightsuit. This place – simple crew quarters, with two beds, a workstation and 'fresher unit – was as much of a home as Wedge had since he joined the Rebellion. The tension in his neck and shoulders eased as he stretched; it felt good to be back here, with his lover. Wedge walked in, the room quiet and growing slightly dimmer as the door hissed shut. Luke was in there, he could always feel when his lover was around. Luke claimed it was the Force. Wedge, however, thought he'd know anyway, Force or no Force. Besides, the commlink and lightsaber next to the communit told him Luke was back. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes wandering past the small workstation to his bed.

"Luke?"

It was empty except for the rumpled sheets and Luke's nightshirt. Wedge unclipped his commlink and set it on the desk, then walked over to Luke's bed.

Well, it would have been Luke's bed, save for the fact that Luke never slept in it. He had walked up to Wedge at the celebration after the Battle of Yavin, kissed him in the corridor and then spent the night. When Wedge told him the last few pilots who slept in the other bed had died, Luke replied there was a very easy way to break that pattern. The second night Wedge slept with his arms around Luke he realized that the Empire, the Rebellion, his family from Corellia and the friends he lost along the way had become summed up in the determined blue eyes of a tow-headed farmboy from Tatooine. He was quite content to let that other bed remain empty. Since then the two had slept together and the spare bed was used for the omnipresent pile of laundry and datapads that collected in their room.

Except for this evening. Still dressed in tunic and trousers, Luke had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on one arm and a datapad next to him. Golden blond, his hair fell over his forehead and past his eyelashes. Luke hadn't it cut since Wedge had known him. The tips that reached to his shoulders were still bleached from the Tatooine suns, just like his skin had been burnt from it, before weeks in space made it fair and illness, pale. Wedge rubbed his chest, the happiness that was almost an ache running through him. He felt it when he saw Luke during unguarded moments like this. It felt like light.

Luke grunted loudly, looked up at Wedge, and buried his face in the pillow. Suddenly feeling rather foolish, Wedge shook his head. He stripped his flightsuit down to his waist, plain white tunic and shorts beneath the heavier orange material of the suit. With a smile, he sat down on the bed and picked up the datapad. Luke grunted again, turning to gaze as Wedge slid the pad out from under his hand.

Imperial news feeds – it seemed Luke was reading the latest of Palpatine's propaganda before he fell asleep.

"That would put anyone to sleep." Wedge mused and chucked the pad away. He bent to remove his boots, quickly returning his attention to his semi-awake and sniffling lover.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

Luke blinked a few times, eyes unfocused and clouded with sleep. He shrugged his hair from his eyes and replied in a muzzy voice. "Okay, kinda stuffed up."

Coughing into a loose fist, Luke sat up halfway. He hadn't looked this bad when Wedge left, had he? Beneath heavy lids, his eyes were tired and becoming read around the rims. There was a dullness in Luke's blue eyes that spoke of restless hours of sleep and drowsy hours of wakefulness. He kept the fist before his face, his breath hitching then catching at the back of his throat. Pink, raw nostrils quivered and he finally let his breath out in a sigh of helpless frustration.

"Ehhh… IhTishh! HuhCHOO! ehh… ihh… Yihhih..ISHOO! EhhKshhh!" Bangs flopping into his face, Luke shook his head. The sneezey expression lingered on his face, giving him a half confused, half upset look. Pressing his fist to his nose, he sneezed a few more times. "EhhShoo! HepTishh, heh! Shooo!"

He rubbed his nose harshly into his hand, sniffling wetly. When he lowered his hand, Luke looked around dizzily for a few seconds, eyelashes fluttering to keep his hair out of his eyes.

"Bless you." Wedge smiled as Luke mumbled thanks and scrubbed a still itchy nose into the back of his palm. His hair still annoyed him, longer strands tickling his nose.

Wedge brushed the bangs off Luke's face, fighting with them as they tumbled back down each time he pushed them away. His hand lingered to feel Luke's forehead, a few seconds longer than possible because his lover leaned into the touch and sighed. Warm, but not indicative of a high temperature. Somewhat reassured, Wedge stroked Luke's hair. It was clean and soft and slid through his fingers. Resisting the surge of affection that rose up inside him, Wedge pulled away before he could lean over and kiss his lover.

"Didn't think you'd be back already." Luke rubbed his eyes and heaved himself up to sit next to Wedge. He yawned wearily, scrubbing both eyes and nose into his tunic sleeve. "uhChshh! Chshhuh!"

"Already? I've been gone hours. Still tired?" Wedge wrapped an arm around Luke's waist as his eyes slid shut.

The heavy, warm weight of Luke's head on his shoulder made Wedge hug him tighter, pull him into a protective embrace. Luke was a lot of things that indicated he didn't need to be protected. He was an X-Wing pilot, an independent adult, and for stang's sake, a Jedi. Wedge brushed his lips over the top of his lover's head. But he was Luke. And that was enough.

Luke stiffened, sitting up a little more straight and holding cupped hands a few inches from his face. A few sniffles, a half-gasp and then be clapped his hands to his face with a sharp breath.

"Ehh! Hishhoo!! ahh, HahChoo! Etchoo!" He coughed, hair falling into his eyes, and tensed his shoulders. "Ehhh, heh, HehTISHOO!"

The tension left Luke's shoulders and he slumped forward. As he wiped his nose on the back of his hand, he sniffed loudly, then coughed, finally becoming frustrated. Red nosed and glassy eyed, he caught Wedge's eye.

"What?" With a frown, Luke got up and grabbed a box of tissues from the desk. Sitting down, he buried his nose into a handful of tissues.

"Bless you." Wedge smiled and rubbed up and down Luke's spine. "Did you go to the medcentre?"

"Yeah, they gave me these," he brandished the tissue box, "and a cup of stim-tea."

"Oh? Did they even examine you?"

"Wedge, it's just a cold." His voice muffled by the tissues, he continued in a more appeasing tone. "An Emdee droid checked me out. Besides, bacta's in short supply, no need to waste on a case of the sniffles. You know how it goes." Luke tossed the used tissues away and turned to Wedge. He touched the other man's side, fingering the zipper on Wedge's flightsuit. "What does Kirkaan look like?"

"Sort of big, round, and greenish with a heavy cloud cover."

Luke nodded, the flash of eagerness in his eyes disappearing as he turned away again with a soft, unvoiced gasp.

"Ishhoo! Kitshoo! oh, Ashoo! ahh…. huhnn… TSHOO!" His body sagged as Luke panted, tunic slipping open and edging off his shoulder. "Sorry, I – I, uhh, huhh, ehhpTISH! Ishhih! My nose is bothering me a lot."

The tone of Luke's voice was so pathetic, congestion and fatigue blurring his words, that Wedge had to lean closer, touch his lips to the skin exposed on his shoulder, and pull him close. The shower and meal Wedge had wanted earlier could wait until morning.

"Come on." Wedge stood slowly, pulling Luke up with him. "You need some more rest."

Despite the look on indecision on Luke's face, Wedge stripped off his flightsuit and undertunic. Luke sat up from the spare bed reluctantly, rubbing his forehead with the back of his wrist.

"I can go to the canteen with you." Speaking around a yawn, Luke shuffled over to their bed as Wedge dialed down the lights in the room. "M'okay, Wedge."

He blinked a few times, as if to clear the sleepiness from his eyes, and took a few steps toward Wedge. One hand came to rest on the rail at the head of the bed, a haze clouding his blue eyes. Body straining as the sneezes came upon him once more, Luke stood with his mouth open and hand hovering before his face. Quiet, tense anticipation marked his breath until his fluttering eyelids snapped shut and he stumbled forward.

"HuhIshhoo! ihhnn, HihTishh! Ehshoo! Huhshh! K'Choo!" Luke froze, then leaned against the bed. He snorted loudly into the palm of his hand, then lowered it wipe it on his trousers.

In the dim light of the room, Wedge could see exhaustion in the dull glittering of his eyes, in the laxness of his posture. Luke's tunic, unbelted, fell open, the loose sleeves reaching past his wrists to cover his knuckles. Barefoot and sniffling, he had a look of delicate vulnerability about him. Wedge approached Luke and grasped his shoulders, drawing him close to kiss him on the forehead. It was easy to forget that Luke Skywalker, hero of the Death Star, could be vulnerable like this.

"Come on, Hotshot, we both could use some time to relax." Wedge directed Luke toward their bed, grabbing the box of tissues on the way.

"Aren't you hungry?" Luke mumbled softly, his head lolling against Wedge's shoulder.

"Not really." In fact, Wedge mused, he was much too comfortable to be thinking about food at that point.

It hadn't taken much persuasion to get Luke to join him in bed. A few warm kisses and the bite of the cold air on his bare skin had Luke sliding between the covers in no time. Between snatches of conversation, he altered between drowsing and tending to his cold. His back pressed to Wedge's chest, it was easy for Wedge to what he really felt like doing – keeping his lover warm.

"You're going to be, later."

Luke raised his head a fraction, wriggled one arm out of both the blankets and Wedge's grip, and raised a tentative had to his face. He nudged forward a tiny bit every few seconds. A few short breaths, another nudge forward, and his hand flew up to cup his nose and mouth.

"Eh!AhhSHOO! Eh, KehCHOO!!!" Strong, the sneezes shook his shoulders and made Luke groan tiredly. He remained still for a few moments, moving only to fumble for the tissues and pluck a clean one from the box.

"Bless you." Wedge patted his leg lightly under the blanket. "More sneezes?"

Luke nodded once, then hurriedly brought what had become a handful of tissues to his nose.

"EhhChiff! Chshoo! Ahhh, ah! Huhh, Eishh! EHHSHOO!" Immediately after, Luke started blowing his nose into the tissues, taking a break to mutter something about the annoying itch in his nose. He threw the wad of tissues to the floor, sneezed three times quickly and wetly, and accepted another few tissues from Wedge with a grimace.

"Thanks. And sorry." Wiping his nose into the tissues, Luke turned to look at Wedge. He gave a small smile and lowered golden eyelashes as he blew his nose again.

"You're welcome, Luke. And don't apologize, all right?" Wedge patted Luke on the leg more firmly this time, then stroked his fingers up to Luke's stomach. There he laid his palm. To Wedge, it felt secure, safe, to hold Luke thus.

"Sure you don't mind?" The words sounded sincere, but were undercut by the close snuggle Luke had Wedge trapped in. "You can try to leave."

"Wouldn't think of it." Wedge dipped his head down and kissed Luke on the temple.

"Even if you miss dinner?"

Wedge pondered, watching as Luke sniffed thickly and rubbed his nose with a tissue. "I could have a ration bar."

Luke pulled a disgusted face in lieu of whatever comment he was going to make, forestalled by the need to clear his throat a few times.

"What? I don't mind ration bars." Wedge gave an abbreviated shrug, his arms still around Luke. "With a protein-bev? They're not all bad."

"Wedge, nobody, ahhh— really," a quick breath interrupted Luke's pre-sneeze murmuring, "ah, eh! EhhTishhoo! Ch'Shhoo! HuhChhshh!"

Having recovered from the small fit of tissue-muffled sneezes, Luke leaned his head against Wedge's shoulder. He yawned and closed his eyes. Wedge felt some of the anxiety in his stomach uncoil. It was bad Luke was ill. It was worse that he would think that Wedge minded taking care of him.

"Wedge?" Luke's eyes blinked open.

"What?"

"You've been out in starships for way too long." He looked up at Wedge, eyes fully open, if not fully awake. "Think ration bars taste good. That's insane."

Reaching up, Luke rubbed his eyes, reddening them more and causing his nose to run. He sniffled loudly, seemingly intent on not using any more tissues for the nonce. His nose, however, not cooperating, forced him to take up the tissues. Luke wiped both his eyes and nose, pulling away from Wedge as he did so. A light cough, almost fragile sounding, burst from his throat. Dropping the tissue into his lap, Luke sniffled a few more times and choked back another cough.

A strong sniffle resulted in a coughing fit, and Luke lifted his head from Wedge's shoulder. Wedge slipped his down Luke's rib cage and let him pull away. Bent over a closed fist, Luke coughed himself into a state of exhausted gasping, finally slumping over as his breath slowed down. Wedge took a deep breath and willed himself to be calm. They had been through this routine a few times already, but each time it still made him feel more worried than he was comfortable with. A long, shaky breath made Luke's shoulders rise and fall slowly. He exhaled with a quiet sigh and his body relaxed.

"Okay?" Leaning forward, Wedge put his arms around Luke again.

"Yeah." He eased back into Wedge's embrace. "Can you give me a tissue?"

At least he could do this much. If he couldn't protect Luke or cure him, he could, well, he could hand him tissues or fetch him cups of water from the 'fresher. It wasn't much, but it was something. And, as he'd do about almost anything for Luke at times like this, something was better than nothing. Wedge had been able to do absolutely nothing for the family and friends that the Empire took from him. If he could anything for the one person the Empire had brought into his life, he was sure as hell going to do it.

When Luke finished sniffling into the tissue he settled against Wedge more comfortably. His nightshirt slid over the bare skin on Wedge's chest, the warmth of Luke's own skin easily felt through the thin material. Wedge leaned closer, kissing Luke on the ear and then on the neck. He could still hear Luke's breath coming, too loud and too raspy to be healthy. Brushing his lips over Luke's neck again and paying special attention to the sensitive skin at the corner of his jawline, Wedge hugged him a bit tighter.

"Are you going to be able to sleep all right, Luke? We can sit like this, until you're tired enough." Wedge asked quietly, his touch eliciting a happy sigh from Luke.

"You worry 'bout me too much. I'll sleep." Behind the slightly groggy, congested voice, an element of admonishment lurked. Luke, being headstrong. Again.

"Maybe I like sitting with you." He nuzzled Luke behind the ear, his lips on his lover's skin as he spoke.

Luke shook his head, taking a breath as he started to answer Wedge. Halfway though, he brought the crinkled tissue to his face. He took another breath, louder this time, and turned his head sharply to the side.

"Ehh! Heeheh, TISHH! Ehishhoo! Huhp!TSHHH!! EhhYihSHOO!!" A small noise of relief, followed by the hitching of breath that meant more sneezes were coming. "Ishhoo! EhhChshhah! Huhh, ehh, ehhk!!Itshoo!! Ahhh, Hishhihh! Ehhshoo!!"

As he lowered the soggy tissue from his face, replacing it with the sleeve of his nightshirt, plain and simple fatigue washed over Luke's features. A glint of relief shone in his eyes, now that the bout of sneezing was over, but even stronger was the weariness there. Shifting as best he could, Wedge handed Luke more tissues.

"Here, clear out your nose, and as much as I do like sitting with you," he paused to caress Luke's chest, "and I do, very much so, I want you to get some sleep."

Luke stopped the nose-blowing for a moment, and even by his posture, Wedge could tell he was trying to come up with some protest.

"No. Sleep." He kissed the back of Luke's head. "I need you to get better, so we can do other things besides sit together."

"Unfair, Antilles." Luke tossed his tissues down and pouted. "Bribery. Not even that tired."

Extricating himself from the bed, Wedge kissed Luke lightly on the lips. As he walked over to dial the lights down completely, a glance at the holocron told him it was at least two hours before the time they usually retired for the night. Good. Much of tension and worry he felt would disappear if he could get Luke to sleep.

With a smile, he slid back into bed and curled his body around Luke. The steady, although congested, breathing of his already asleep lover was enough of a reason to miss dinner.

He'd pass on the ration bar, too, though. He didn't like them that much.

-TBC

SW is the sole property of GL. But I suppose he wouldn't want this interpretation anyway. *g* A/N: I'm guessing you all know who Luke is, but as for Wedge, just in case you don't -- Wedge Antilles is one of the X-Wing pilots, besides Luke Skywalker, he's the only pilot to survive the destruction of the first Death Star. During the time of my 'fic, he's about 20 years old, and Luke is 18. Later on, before the battle of Hoth, he and Luke will go on to found Rogue Squadron together. Wedge takes over as Rogue Leader when Luke goes to Dagobah for his Jedi training. :) Also, the beginning of this is a little slow, sorry. I got a little involved in the 'plot' (plot being defined as loosely as possible).