"Oh... Force." Chirrut groans, because Baze smells delicious and feels miserable and this isn't what he wanted at all. He did it all wrong.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't... I mean I was, but not because I was mad, or anything, just... you never said anything, or... did, anything, about anyone, and..."

He sighs, scrubbing the back of his neck with his bruised hand as the confession babbles out like a forgotten spring.

"I like you, Baze."