Relax

So, I recently joined a Vox Discord. We were talking when I was inspired to write this fic for Vox and something for Day 5 of Commander Fox Week. Even though Commander Fox Week was back in July... Oh well, nobody's stopped me yet! :)

I hope you all enjoy and I hope to post something else for you guys soon! <3

Prompt: Touch-Starved | Hobbies

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Fox collapsed in the chair behind his desk, taking his helmet off and placing his head in his hands. The mission had been a complete disaster; the target had gotten away, 15 of his men had been injured, and 7 were dead.

Dealing with the fallout hadn't been a joy, either. The Chancellor had been furious in that politician way; voice remaining pleasant, but his eyes were narrowed and he never failed to bring up his failure in a non-constructive way.

Fox rubbed his sore eyes, wearily glancing at the loads of datapads on his desk. Apparently the Chancellor was still incapable of doing his own work. He really didn't want to deal with it tonight, but they were all due relatively soon and he didn't have any more excuses to hold off on completing them; he had already checked on his injured men, had seen off the deceased, and had reported in to the Chancellor.

If he had still been a young cadet on Kamino, a day like today would have definitely warranted cuddling with one of his batchmates in a pod; but Fox wasn't on Kamino anymore. His batchmates were either already dead or scattered around the galaxy, and Fox was alone.

Well, that wasn't completely true. All the commanders of the Coruscant Guard tried to help each other as much as they could, but Fox was the highest-ranking of them all. He had to maintain some distant for professional purposes.

It was a shame, really. It had been a long time since Fox had been able to act like a vod; so long that Fox wasn't sure if he even knew how to anymore. Not being on the front-lines, not experiencing what most vode went through, it had distanced him from his brothers. He dealt with almost everything alone now, no more cuddle piles or just one-on-one cuddling with a close brother.

Fox missed it. He wouldn't dare admit it, even on his deathbed, but he did. He had gone so long without positive touch that he didn't know how to relax to someone's touch anymore. The few times someone had gotten him to relax to their touch and in their embrace, Fox was pretty sure he had been drunk. Drunken people didn't know what they were doing most of the time and always made mistakes, so Fox didn't count them.

Fox returned his gaze to the datapads and sighed, picking up the top one. The sooner he got these done; maybe he'd be able to get some rest.

Fox looked up from the current datapad he'd been working on at the sound of his door opening. He was honestly prepared to scream at whoever it was to go away; he was almost done and this person would just slow him down.

He groaned when he saw who it was; one of the banes of his existence, the person that made his drunken self make bad decisions.

Vos annoyingly smiled at the look of frustration on Fox's face. "Hey Foxy!"

Fox sighed tiredly. "It's Commander, General Vos. What do you want?"

Vos walked further into Fox's office, leaning on his desk. "Oh come on, Fox; this again? After our many loving nights together, I thought we were now on a nickname basis."

"'Loving' nights?" Fox asked, raising an eyebrow. "And we've never been on a nickname basis."

Vos smirked coyly. "Really? You didn't have a problem with nicknames two months ago when I was—"