WARNING: There will be gay sex fade to black with intimate cuddles, if that bothers you, move along, and please —for the love of Buddha— don't tell me what your personal leaning is —I don't care. Nor do I go around pointing at hetero PDA screaming, It burns! Why isn't everyone the same type of gay as I am!? *sob*
Don't be that soft-skinned ninny, it's embarrassing.
KEYnote: This will be a fast to bed but a very slow-burn romance. Enemies with benefits to life-partners.
Chapter 5 - Whom Once I Loved
The silence that followed Obi-Wan proclaiming he wanted to go to Serreno was not surprising.
The spikes of lust he felt in the Force from the other man was… unexpected, to say the least.
Obi-Wan hadn't really thought about partners in a long while. Mostly because he was a miserable old man who talked to ghosts and spent as much time as humanly possible pretending his body didn't exist.
His younger body, however, was a lot healthier than he was mentally. It meant the idea of intimacy was… enticing.
Though he was almost certain that his current skin hunger could be solved a lot more easily than bedding the man that might or might not strangle him in his sleep.
No, he was pretty sure this problem could be solved by returning to the Temple and hugging the first Knight he saw.
Jedi were, as Cody had observed, a bit like cats.
Standoffish and prickly until they needed cuddles.
It was a semi-embarrassing way to think of himself. But there were just certain things all Jedi had in common, an attraction to life, being habitually cold most of the time (even if you lived in a Force-forsaken desert), enjoyment of heights, and prone to taking 'cat-naps'.
Such as laying in a garden under sunlight or curling up in a giant creche pile, or as had been the case during the war, puppy piles of troopers.
Obi-Wan had been deprived of all of it, deprived of the very hope of it.
Tatooine had been a vast eternity of lonely days and lonelier nights that he had the expectation of it lasting until the end of his days.
In order to avoid that hell, he had submerged himself in the Force as much as was possible, but even that was lonely.
Aside from Qui-Gon, all the lights of the Jedi had been either snuffed out or obscured from sight and reach.
Currently, Obi-Wan was delighting in the distant light of his people, as well as the stars being born on Kamino.
Even this far away, Obi-Wan could sense Cody, Waxer and Boil, Rex and Fives, and so so many others.
Cody had survived the war, so had Rex, but they, like the Jedi who had managed to survive, had flickered out of sight.
Currently, Boba was a comet in his arms, the brush of his soft hands along his callouses was healing. Obi-Wan was grateful, so grateful that Jango trusted him, even if only momentarily, with his son.
When he brought Luke to the Lars, he hadn't anticipated being cut off from him entirely.
Obi-Wan had always had a soft spot for children, he liked the light of them, their honesty, and the love they so freely expressed.
"Do you have any ade?" Jango asked in Mando'a.
Obi-Wan glanced at the man whose expression of open appraisal had changed to something far warier.
It was an effort not to sigh.
How soon until Jango tore Boba away from him and spat at him as Owen had for year?.
It was nothing Obi-Wan didn't deserve, but that didn't stop it from hurting.
"I had a son, and three grandchildren," he answered in Mando'a.
"Had?" Jango asked.
"They're gone now," Obi-Wan said, though even as he said it he knew that Anakin was alive. Ahsoka, Luke, and Leia had yet to be born.
Anakin was… Obi-Wan didn't really know what to do about that.
Maybe there were two of him in the past now, or maybe younger Obi-Wan had been destroyed when Obi-Wan stepped back in time.
He didn't feel good about the second option. If he had disappeared, Anakin had likely panicked and was due a very serious apology.
An apology best made in person.
But knowing how he had failed him… Obi-Wan had still lost his Anakin, and Obi-Wan doubted more now than before that he could train Anakin.
He couldn't stand the thought of returning to the Temple, how fair could he be to Anakin if he was unable to shake the nightmares of his falling?
Even though everyone was miraculously alive, Obi-Wan had still known their deaths.
Thankfully though, Jango didn't give him a platitude.
"I'm sorry," Jango said, leaving it at that.
Obi-Wan nodded. He had once said his remembrances every night during the war. He stopped afterwards, what was the point?
He could no more name them all then he could count the stars.
It was easier to know that he was among the last, knowing that his survival was a just punishment for failing them all.
That he had a second chance now was overwhelming.
There was so much to do but no clear path forward.
He should call the Temple.
Reassure them, or confuse them.
He didn't want to deal with it.
Anakin could wait, if only so Obi-Wan could ensure that Palpatine couldn't get to him.
Obi-Wan knew he could kill Dooku and he was pretty sure he could take Palpatine, if not, take a few of his limbs.
But the problem with Sith was their unashamed habit of running away. Obi-Wan currently knew where the Sith were, he didn't know where they would hide.
Which meant he was going to have to trap them.
Darth Sidious had used Obi-Wan as a pawn; it was Obi-Wan's turn to retaliate.
He came from a line of Mandalorians who were one the greatest terrorists in galactic history, he was going to make Sidious regret everything he ever attempted.
As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, the war started now.
"Don't be sad."
Obi-Wan blinked, then smiled down at the toddler in his lap, "Oh, ad'ika, I'm alright, it was a long time ago."
He could see the frown Jango directed at him as he plugged in the coordinates to Serreno, as if they hadn't already been sitting on his computer.
Boba raised his arms, fingers beseeching. Obi-Wan obliged him, by leaning down so the toddler could play with his short beard.
He wondered if Cody had been this cute as a youngling. Cody was probably twice Boba's age now and likely never been given the opportunity to be freely curious.
The thought grieved him.
If he knew how to save them, he would have flown straight to Kamino and freed them all.
But the Kamonins were working for the Sith, and they had already proven in the future that when the clones 'served their purpose' they were quite capable of genocide. He wouldn't be the cause of mass murder when he was planning on ending the war early.
Boba tugged on his face, refocusing Obi-Wan.
Despite Cody's lack of freedom, Obi-Wan didn't consider Boba to be the lucky one.
Quite the contrary, Boba was the only one of the vode who had been truly orphaned and left with only a legacy of death.
Every trooper had had a brother, people who cared about them, even if they only counted each other in that category.
Boba had been set apart and had become the outsider.
The oldest and the youngest, and nowhere in the galaxy to belong when Mandalore had fallen. Yet he hadn't even had anonymity when his voice and face were the same as millions of others.
"Don't be sad," Boba said again. "You are ours now."
Obi-Wan barked a laugh; it was a flip of a coin if Jango would murder as soon as he found out what he was, or make a game of it a hunt him down.
Again, Obi-Wan felt a spike of lust. He glanced at Jango who was looking at the pair of them —Obi-Wan curled protectively around Jango's son with Boba's arms looped around Obi-Wan neck to reach his hair.
Obi-Wan couldn't help the smirk that threatened around his lips, there were reasons he flirted during fights.
It was distracting and often led to people underestimating him.
Jango said he owed him a life debt, good, maybe it would cause him to hesitate.
And a single hesitation would be all Obi-Wan would need to outmanoeuvre him.
Jango felt a bit like he was playing with fire.
Kenobi was not as naive about his charms as he had originally thought.
Jango had always been extremely picky when it came to his partners, and as his preferences leant toward males, he had known his dreams of having a biological child were slim. Biological solely for the fact he didn't want to damn a foundling to his bloody legacy. His own child would have the strength she or he needed to survive such a legacy.
But this trip had shown him that going it alone was dangerous.
He couldn't have Boba with him all the time now that he would no longer fit —or rather remain— in a sling across his chest. But he couldn't leave his ad'ika alone again.
Never again.
This incident with the other bounty hunters and Jabba had been far too close, an error of Jango's own conceit.
Which meant he would either have to remain on Kamino until Boba was old enough to protect himself or leave Boba behind there.
The thought sickened him, but he didn't have a choice and they had to return soon to Kamino regardless, however…
However, looking at Kenobi, Jango wondered what it would be like to have a partner who could protect his ad'ika in his absence.
He wondered what Kenobi would be like with both Boba and Omega in his arms, or even surrounded by the thousands of the vode.
It didn't merit thinking about, that type of dreaming was hopeless.
Especially knowing that Kenobi was somehow involved with the Count of Serreno.
Knowing the man had lost ade and bu'ad (strange that he was older than Jango had suspected if he had had grandchildren already), Jango found himself being more lenient than his paranoia would normally allow.
"You should get some sleep," Jango said after he pulled them into hyperspace.
Kenobi hummed looking out into the blue light of blurring stars, rubbing circles on Boba's back, the exhausted ad'ika slumping across Kenobi's chest. "I'm content unless you want to get him in a real bed."
"No, he doesn't like to sleep alone, and he could sleep on a bed of rocks if his back was being rubbed."
"Fair enough," Kenobi said, resting his cheek on Boba's head.
Jango wanted to ask what the man's secrets were, and wanted not matter because wanted Kenobi, the Mandalorian warrior who had avenged a wrong to him by taking on an entire Hutt stronghold in his honour, stabbed Jabba, saved his son be the man of his dreams.
But Jango had long given up on such dreams, they too often came with a price he wasn't prepared to pay.
Obi-Wan didn't com home.
One, he wasn't entirely sure he would make it back alive, and two…
He wasn't ready to see his people again. Nor was he ready to return to the Temple. Facing a Sith Lord was a far easier prospect.
Boba woke before they landed and Obi-Wan didn't question the sedative he mixed in the toddler's food.
If Obi-Wan wasn't here, he was almost certain Jango would have returned to Kamino before bringing with him to see Dooku.
But Boba was still small enough to fit in a sling wrap he wore on the outside of his armour.
Perhaps, it wasn't yet a safe option to bring a child before a Dark Lord of the Sith, But Dooku would have to be an idiot to hurt Boba.
So long as Dooku needed Jango, Boba was safe enough.
And Dooku did need Jango, without him the vode wouldn't have become who they had been. Because as good as the clones had been, as good as Jango had been, not all of that was born, enough of it was nurtured that specialized training had been required for their success. Specifically the success of executing the Jedi Order.
"As much as I would like to be wrong, you're here to see the Count, are you not?" Jango asked, securing sleeping Boba to him.
"I am, as it so happens," Obi-Wan said.
Jango sighed, "Do I want to know why?"
"Dooku is my ba'buir."
Jango's eyes widened, "I knew he had a sister, not a son."
"I suspect there is much you don't know about him."
"You don't sound very fond of him," Jango noted.
Obi-Wan gave him a half-smile, "You might say that."
Jango sighed, "Then let's not keep the Count waiting."
They were greeted by rather irritated guardsmen.
"Fett, who the kark is your friend? If he would like an audience with the Count he must have an appointment," one said.
Obi-Wan folded his hands in his grey-black outer cloak, "Tell the Count his grandpadawan has come to meet him. I've come all the way from Coruscant."
The guard gave him a scowl, his brown eyes promising pain if this was a trick.
The flare of Jango's emotions was something else entirely.
"My Lord, excuse the interruption, but Fett brought a boy with him claiming to be your grandpadawan."
"Bu'ad is not the same thing as a Jedi's apprentice," Jango hissed in a low tone. His irritation was potent, but it wasn't quite the burning rage he had been expecting.
Obi-Wan shrugged, "It depends on the lineage. Mine was always quite peculiar."
Jango made a harsh sound that crackled along his vocalizer.
"What is your name?" the guard asked, interrupting their conversation.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he answered.
The guard's expression went placid and he stepped aside to let them pass. Jango exchanged a word with the guard and he led Obi-Wan to Dooku's dining room.
The room itself was cavernous and cold, stripped of all decoration save the lights and architecture.
Dooku rose to his feet from his seat at the table.
"Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," Dooku said with a gentle smile, his Force presence was muddled.
Not the cold flame he knew it to be.
Which was fine with him, Obi-Wan had had his shields locked down for far too long. He knew he looked like a Force null and he was content with that.
He bowed deeply to him, knowing that Dooku wouldn't understand it as the mockery that it was, "I'm greatly honoured to meet you, Grandmaster."
Jango who had taken off his helmet glared at Obi-Wan in Mando'a, "A ba'buir you've never met?"
Obi-Wan inclined his head but answered in Basic, "I told you our lineage was peculiar."
Dooku chuckled, "Come, sit, both of you."
They obeyed, Jango shifting his sleeping ad'ika against him.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Obi-Wan," Dooku said as they settled. "More so because of your company."
Servants came in with plates, laying them before Obi-Wan and Jango, departing just as quickly.
"I could say the same," Obi-Wan replied, knowing he was poking at both of them. "But what do I know, that must be ancient history, I suppose."
Jango glared at him, reminding Obi-Wan charmingly of Alpha-17.
Jango knew exactly what Obi-Wan was referring to, and Galidraan was exactly why he had allied with one of the men who had destroyed his people.
To get revenge against a far larger target; the Jedi Order.
Obi-Wan wished with his full heart that Jango hadn't played into the Sith's hands but rather focused his efforts in taking back his system.
Mandalore and the Order had burned together after all.
Dooku brushed it aside, "How is your Padawan, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan's gaze flicked to him, and for a moment he debated playing games.
But the best lies were truth, the best bait was trust, and Dooku would search out anything he said.
The worst had already happened.
Obi-Wan knew that the nature between Sith and Apprentice was animosity and deceit.
Obi-Wan would do whatever it took to drive a stake between them.
"Not well. I am not the Master he needed me to be."
"So you left him?" Dooku accused, though his voice was more interested than reproachful.
"You left your son?" Jango asked, outraged.
"I went looking for help," Obi-Wan said.
"You said your son died."
"I watched him die," Obi-Wan said, all humour and pretence falling away. "I watched him burn."
"Jetii mind tricks?" Jango asked.
Obi-Wan sighed, "I wish it were that, but I know what fate awaits the Jedi, I do not know how to stop it."
"And that is why you have come here?" Dooku asked.
Obi-Wan broke eye contact with Jango to look toward the Sith Lord, "I'm not the only one who has had these visions, am I? Master Sifo-Dyas saw the same."
Dooku's face didn't reveal a thing. "The High Council put Sifo-Dyas on probation, disbanded him from the Council."
"But you were his friend," Obi-Wan said, knowing full well that Dooku had personally killed his childhood friend. "Tell me you never believed him, and I'll go."
Dooku looked to Jango, "What of you, Fett, do you believe the Jedi Order will fall, the Republic with it?"
"I lived through the actual death of my own people. Anything is possible," Jango said.
Obi-Wan empathized with his bitterness, though not necessarily the part he played in it.
"Let us eat. I believe this conversation is best suited for the morning. After all, we have a little one among us who benefit from a bed," Dooku said.
Obi-Wan picked up a fork, knowing full well that Jango would be unlikely to be able to sleep here and that Boba wouldn't be as easy to keep down in daylight. It would put Jango at a disadvantage.
Possibly deprive Obi-Wan of an ally if that is what they were to each other.
Obi-Wan doubted Jango would ever want him near him or his son again.
Dooku was predictable in that he was always scheming.
When they finished after-dinner tea, Obi-Wan followed Jango to the guest rooms where apparently Jango had stayed before.
Jango invited him in, likely to interrogate him. The suite consisted of the main room with a mini bar and a large bed, a refresher and another bedroom, only smaller. The doors were locked and they were closed. Jango did a sweep of the rooms for monitoring devices, before setting up his own in the smaller room so he could see Boba on the bedside table.
If Obi-Wan hadn't been there, Jango likely would have stayed in the same room with his son.
Jango began in Mando'a. "You are a Jetii Knight."
"I am," he said mildly.
"If you are of Mandalorian descent, then the Jetiiese are exactly as the stories portray them; a cult that steals children."
Obi-Wan scoffed, "You cannot steal what has already been thrown away."
"If you were—"
"Jango, my name means No One from Nowhere. I did not lie when I told you I was adopted outside of the Mandalorian system."
Jango looked as if he had just sucked on a lemon.
Obi-Wan was surprised they were having this conversation.
Obi-Wan had always been conflicted about this man, because of what had been done to him by the Jedi and the Senate, because he had sided with the Sith, and because every Alpha and CC vode Obi-Wan had ever met had hated and loved him.
But wrong or right, Obi-Wan needed Jango. Obi-Wan didn't know how to save the clones, but Jango might, and Obi-Wan didn't think it would take too much convincing to get Janho to side with his kin over the Sith.
Or at least he hoped not.
He just needed to get Jango to see who the true enemies were.
"Your parents didn't want you because you were Force sensitive?" Jango asked, still angry.
"Not wanting?" Obi-Wan asked. "What a quaint euphemism. No, Jango, my parents didn't want a child who was born nearly two months early, who was small and could hardly breathe. But as far as having a Force sensitive ad'ika? My mother attempted to drown me for that offence."
Jango blinked, "That is not the Way."
Obi-Wan laughed, "Which Way? Mereel's Codex or the Watch's?"
Jango's jaw ticked, he clearly wasn't used to people knowing enough to throw that back in his face.
"Your dar'buire were Death Watch so you dismissed the whole of our people? Any other clan would have taken you in."
"You know that isn't true. My name is cursed, the first assumption would have been I had a terminal disease, not worth getting too attached to, and aside from the True Mandalorians, there are no guarantees among the Mandalorian clans that a Force sensitive or presented as such wouldn't come to harm."
Jango was silent to that.
Obi-Wan sighed, "The Order does not cut their children off from their homeworlds and culture. Although for me, returning to perform coming of age rites was impossible, I was still able to learn our languages, our histories, our politics."
"That isn't enough," Jango said
"Isn't it?" Obi-Wan challenged. "What of the Resol'nare have I not followed."
Jango just shook his head, but Obi-Wan could feel his conflict, his confusion in the Force.
Jango wanted to like him, wanted to believe he was the Mandalorian who had swept in from nowhere to avenge dishonour done to his clan, to free slavers, and to save his son.
But Obi-Wan's ties to the Order, his enemies, made him unwilling to trust.
Kark that, if it took leaving the Order and swearing himself as a Mandalorian to Jango's clan to save their peoples, so be it.
In Mando'a, Obi-Wan recited the canons, far simpler but not so different to his vows to the Order.
"Strength is life, for the strong have the right to rule. I was raised to be a warrior, when I was nineteen, I fought in the Great Clan Wars."
"On whose side?"
"Your side wasn't present," Obi-Wan said.
"Because of your people," Jango snarled, looming over Obi-Wan. "Because of the Jetiiese."
"The Order can be accused of a great many stupidies. Of our complacently, for not holding the Senate to account, but what you fail to see is the power imbalance."
"What power imbalance? The Jetiiese are kept as fat guard dogs. Teeth without ever knowing starvation."
"Ten thousand Knights, Jango, when once there were hundreds of thousands. They cut back our resources, they spread us thin across the galaxy. We have no say in politics, we have little to no say on where we are sent. Where once we acted in armies, people who were true leaders, we are now the sacrificial token: either bow to the Republic's domain or kill the Jedi and be economically destroyed by political sections, left to the Hutts or the Trade Federation or pirates or even the Zygerrians, to eat them up."
"A full battalion of Jedi was sent to Galidraan," Jango said.
"By who?" Obi-Wan asked.
Jango didn't respond.
"Everyone wants to see the magical warrior as the one with the power but Death Watch and the Senate sent us both to our dooms. I do regret what was done to your clan but if the Jedi had sent the four Jedi the Senate had originally requested, you personally would have killed them all. You likely would have overpowered Dooku, one of the few voices in the Order who attempted to publicly challenge the corruption in the Senate."
Jango blinked, "Are you saying the Senate purposely kills off its own soldiers to gain power? The Jedi is the Republic's defense."
"Of the people, yes, but the less Jedi there are, the more power the politicians have. The more freedom they have to fear monger the threats of the Outer Rim and to justify their own corruption. The more Jedi who die in the name of peace, the more power the Senators have to inflict draconian laws on their system. To exploit their own people."
Jango just stared at him.
Being a war leader was different from being a politician, and to Jango's honour he was not a politician.
Obi-Wan was much more sullied in that respect. His every mistake had been made knowingly of its cost.
As intelligent as Jango was, he was a man of action, not of political scheming.
It was sad that the man who Obi-Wan was today knew more than Jango did about war.
"To reframe," Obi-Wan brought the conversation back on track. The track to refocus Jango's bloodlust and vengeance toward Obi-Wan's enemies. "It was Death Watch and the Senate who schemed against your clan, the Jedi were merely a tool. One I do believe Dooku is doing his damndest to make the Senate regret. When I fought in the Great Clan Wars, I protected Satine Kryze, but I was fighting against Death Watch, I never lost sight of that."
Jango looked a bit lost at this. Dooku had done his own manipulations to get Jango on board with Kamino and targeting the Jedi.
But the Watch had taken more from Jango than the set up on Galidraan.
"Unlike you."
Jango stiffened, "I killed Tor Vizsla for what he did. He killed my parents, my sister, and Jaster."
"For which I am personally grateful."
Jango frowned down at him, "Vizsla was your clan leader?"
Obi-Wan smiled, what he said next was either going to get him killed or beaten to a pulp.
Because if there was one thing worse than being a Jetii—
"Tor was my dar'buir."
—it was being a Vizsla.
Jango staggered back as if Obi-Wan had sucker punched him, "No, you can't be. You're…"
Obi-Wan waited but Jango did nothing, made no move toward his weapons and his Force presence had gone quiet.
Not the reaction he was hoping for. "I loved my brother, Pre, once, however, I am ashamed of the man he has become."
"Your mother?" Jango asked.
"The Jedi who saved me killed her."
Jango again went quiet and after some time passed, Obi-Wan continued to the next canon.
"Honor is life, for with no honor one may as well be dead. I avenged my Master's, my true buir's death. I killed the dar'jetii who killed him and I raised his foundling as best I was able."
Jango just stared at him, face unreadable.
"Death is life, one should die as they have lived. No one has beaten me who has been able to take that final shot. I have always fought my battles to the end."
Or what should have been the end. Vader shouldn't have been able to survive what he had.
Jango cleared his throat, "You missed one."
Obi-Wan smiled, "Loyalty is life, for without one's clan one has no purpose. I have never betrayed the Order."
"The Order is not a clan," Jango said.
Obi-Wan lowered his voice, "No clan has ever named me, Mand'alor."
It was an offer as much as it was a challenge.
Jango could have his loyalty if he claimed it, but if he claimed him in such a way it would be acknowledging himself as a clan leader, as the Mand'alor, the rightful leader of Mandalore.
It would be tantamount to declaring war.
Funnily enough, he had offered this to Satine once before. And she had refused him.
Because to name him was to embrace the old ways, the history of their people as having some merit.
She had rather him continue on as a 'peacekeeper.'
She had feared that by her own laws, she would have to either become a hypocrite or be forced to exile him with the others refused to give up weapons.
Because though Obi-Wan might have been persuaded to leave the Order, he would never stop training.
But by every standard that mattered, strength, honour, loyalty, and death Obi-Wan could claim he lived as a Mandalorian. He had only run from the fight to keep Luke, his bu'ad safe.
And of the two things denied to him, owning armour of his own and of having no official clan, those were things done to him, not something that had ever been his choice.
Jango seemed to understand that much because he wasn't angry when he finally spoke; "When you look at me, what do you see?"
The face of a million men whom once I loved.
"I see the rightful leader of our people, I see the one true Mand'alor," Obi-Wan answed alloud.
"A Mand'alor is nothing without their clan, I have no one but Boba."
"If you gave the call, Jango, they would return home to you. If you went to war, I would follow you, ner Mand'alor."
Something in Jango changed and in the next breath, Obi-Wan found himself being crowded by the other man.
Obi-Wan's pulse jumped.
It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that, since someone had crossed so close into his personal space. Close enough that their fronts touched, robes to Beskar. Jango slipped off a glove, tossing it toward the foot of the bed where the helmet rested.
The second glove joined it a moment later and then—
Obi-Wan took in a sharp breath as Jango's fingers brushed his bearded cheek.
"I never thought I would enjoy a Jedi's company, much less a Vizsla's."
For once in his life, Obi-Wan didn't have a comeback. He forced back a groan as Jango's hand slipped from his cheek to his neck —and squeezed.
He should be afraid, but he wasn't.
No fear was not what he was experiencing right now.
Which was foolish of him, because this touch, this threat was not a naming.
Not a rallying call, but a distraction, a far more pleasant evasion and manipulation than galactic politics and poking at a man's worst memories as Obi-Wan had been doing.
But an evasion all the same.
Jango was playing him the same way Satine had.
Which was to be expected. No one had ever wanted him entirely, no one had ever wanted the responsibility of him.
Everything he had ever gained had been conditional. Everything he had ever earned had been at a cost not worth paying.
Jango would rather use him than bring him into his clan.
Obi-Wan didn't care, didn't try to stop this or demand more.
Too much of him wanted to be distracted, wanted to enjoy this new painless body, and wanted Jango to continue touching him.
Ten years of celibacy.
Ten years of exile.
Ten years of torture by isolation, with only his demons and ghosts for company.
All Obi-Wan wanted to do was let go of control.
To give himself over to desire and manipulation for whatever the hell Jango thought he was doing, come what may.
He could think of worse ways to go as Jango squeezed down on his throat.
He had to know, didn't he? If he knew about Galidraan, then he knew Jango had strangled several Jedi to death.
This Jetii should fear him.
But he was relaxed, ready to give…
This was stupid.
This man represented everything he hated.
Tor Vizsla's son.
A Jetii.
A Republic pawn who had put Satine Kryze on the Mandalorian throne.
Yet he could also become so easily what every Mandalorian should have been.
He was also beautiful, and different— and imagine how much Tor Vizsla would have hated his son bedding Jaster Mereel's son.
Jango's pulse rose, the feeling of the hunt filling him.
Imagine how much the Jedi would hate the conflict of interest.
Imagine when the Republic gained their army that it would be under a man who was under Jango's beck and call?
He let go of the Jetii's throat and Obi-Wan didn't run.
Jango's heart twisted as he ran his fingers up the back of his neck, gripping his hair, bearing his throat with a sharp tug.
The Jetii's breath caught.
Jango hated what had become of his clones. He thought it wouldn't matter. In his rush for revenge, he had forgotten what it would mean to have a clan again.
Jango's hands were tied, Dooku was a Sith and he would see Kamino burned before he helped his clones.
But a Jetii.
Jetii were trouble, a Mandalorian Jetii who was Dooku's grandson was more than that.
This would not be a one not stand. Jango needed this man.
So he would own him.
Own him, use him, and kill him if necessary.
The worst part was that Kenobi was giving in so easily, that he was asking for so much more than Jango would give him.
He wouldn't name Kenobi as a part of his clan, but he wouldn't deny him either.
No, instead, he would hold out the promise of it in one hand and a knife in the other.
If Obi-Wan was clan, Jango couldn't use him like that, couldn't bargain his life away to the Sith.
The Codex wouldn't allow it.
As long as Obi-Wan wasn't clan, Jango owed him no loyalty.
But there were other ways to own a man than kinship or slavery.
The Jetii was willing, and Jango needed to know how far he could push without offering him a home; how much he would be willing to give without being guaranteed anything in return.
As it turned out; everything.
Obi-Wan seemed willing to cede everything to Jango as he shoved the man down on the bed, crawling up that delightful form, his armour still on save for his gloves and helmet.
Jango told himself that it was just a bonus that when leaned down to taste the Jetii's lips, the sweetness of Obi-Wan's kiss felt like sugared spice in his veins.
AN: Thoughts, koalas, or feedback, pretty please?