Jedao would survive losing Fives, he's quite sure, just as poorly as he survived dying himself, and probably worse. He'd keep going, keep fighting - he doesn't know how to stop - but he'd never be whole and never be well. It is terrifying when he slips and lets himself think about it, or cannot avoid thinking about it, it is raw mad heartbreaking panic. But mostly he doesn't.

Has he ever been kissed like this? Probably once or twice, by a would-be assassin, but not by someone who meant it.

The part of him that thought he should give this up has been well under seige from the moment it redeclared hostilities. He can't keep remembering why he should or why he shouldn't; all he can feel is Fives' sturdy hands, his warm bulk, the unbearable fierce tenderness of his mouth. He keens softly into the kiss, back curving, yearning, hands clinging.