Chapter Text
Jango Fett sneered behind his buy’ce. Bandomeer reminded him uncomfortably of Mandalore, though it was strip-mining rather than orbital bombing that had destroyed Bandomeer’s environment. Still, a contract was a contract and Jango Fett was reliable. He left the loading ramp, closed up his ship, and sauntered toward the governor’s palace with his bounty in tow.
He was surprised, to say the least, when a scrawny, grimy teen with an electrostaff emerged from the shadows to menace him.
“Not a good idea, kid,” he said, because he was in a hurry and didn’t particularly want to be delayed. The teen bared their teeth and jabbed at him.
“Who are you with?”
“With? I’m an independent contractor.” He gestured to the cryo-bed behind him. “Just bringing in a bounty.”
“You’re working for the governor!” the kid snarled and rushed Jango.
Jango sighed and wished he had more nonlethal weapons on his person. It felt wrong to hurt a kid, even a teen, who was so obviously out of their depth. Bold, yes, but out of their depth nonetheless, as was proven when Jango grabbed the electrostaff’s handle with one hand and clobbered the kid with the other, stunning them. Hopefully. Then he lowered the kid to the ground and continued on his way.
The teen wasn’t there when his business was concluded, so Jango figured they’d woken up or gotten carted off the property somehow. Not his problem, nevermind the small twinge of guilt that sounded entirely too much like Jaster Mereel. The kid had been desperate - why, he wasn’t sure, but he had heard Offworld used slave labor in the mines of Bandomeer and elsewhere. Technically the governor’s hands were clean, but all Bandomeer’s wealthy elites profited from the mines in some way, even if they weren’t enslaving sentients personally.
Jaster’s Legacy was just where he’d left it, at least; and even if the governor had been stingy he’d not actually shorted any of the promised fees. Jango didn’t relax until he was keying in the hyperspace route, though. Something felt a little...off. He couldn’t figure out what, unless the kid’s fate was still bothering him.
He was less than amused when he woke after a few hours’ sleep to go eat something and found the kid, bold as brass, sitting at his table and eating his rations. There was a moment of silence as they both realized what had happened.
Then Jango lunged for the kid, not caring he was only in sleep shorts. If he couldn’t handle an underfed, unarmed teenager from some backwater with his bare hands, he might as well retire now.
“The kriff are you doing here, di’kut? You trying to get killed?” Jango snapped, surprised when the boy - he was pretty sure, now - surrendered immediately this time and let himself be shaken like a rag doll.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know it was your ship, I won’t eat much please don’t space me, I just didn’t want to be a slave anymore,” the boy started crying and Jango’s anger fizzled out almost immediately.
“You were a miner?”
The boy gave him a look of contempt. “I was a slave . For three years. ...I think. No one celebrates your Life Day when you’re no better than a droid.”
Jango sighed. “Yeah, I’m familiar with the concept. I spent a few years slaving on a spice freighter. Alright, kid. What’s your name and age, at least.”
“...Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’m about sixteen I guess?”
“Pleasure. I’m Jango Fett,” he said, releasing Obi-Wan and stepping back a pace. He wrinkled his nose. Without his buy’ce he could smell the kid’s condition and it was...bad. He glanced around the little galley, noting the shreds of ration bar packaging. A lot of shreds...so the kid was starving as well as filthy. Great.
“I’m going to tell you what you’re going to do if you want me to do better than drop you off at the nearest space port with nothing,” Jango said, voice low and commanding. “Understood?”
“...yes, sir,” Obi-Wan said, huddling in on himself. Jango decided not to address the fear yet - it wasn’t like Obi-Wan would believe him if he said the kid was safe, that Jango wouldn’t hurt him. He’d have to prove it.
“First, we’re going to clean you up, get you some clothes to wear that aren’t those...rags.”
Obi-Wan glanced up at him through dark brown bangs, but didn’t protest.
“Sonic first,” Jango said, hoping it would kill the smell and clear most of the dirt.
At least, he kriffing hoped it was dirt.
“...First? You mean...water?” Obi-Wan asked, wide-eyed.
“Sonic first, then water,” Jango agreed. He led Obi-Wan to the smaller sonic fresher off the galley. “Strip. There’s no one else on board but me, and I’m not putting you in anything clean until I’m sure you are.”
Obi-Wan still looked at him nervously, but he peeled off his clothes. His skin was pale beneath - still streaked with dirt, just less freckled than the rest of him. The sonic shook a layer of dirt off him no problem, but the smell was still...present. Jango ran it again for good measure, and that seemed to help somewhat. When Obi-Wan combed his fingers through his hair awkwardly, the bounty hunter was surprised to find under the dust and grime was a brilliant copper-gold shine.
“Pretty little thing under all that dirt, aren’t you? And a clever boy, hiding a feature that memorable,” he said admiringly. “But judging from what just fell off you, you probably have lice at least.”
Obi-Wan bared his teeth at the comment about his looks, looking confused when Jango didn’t react at all to the implicit threat display. “Managed to avoid fleas. Lice just itches - fleabites hurt .”
“The water access and reclamation cycler is in my room,” Jango mentioned, offering a hand to help Obi-Wan out of the little fresher. The hand was accepted tentatively, and then clung to as he led Obi-Wan to the main quarters and the small tub in its attached fresher unit.
Obi-Wan was thin enough that a glance let Jango count his ribs, and his vertebrae were just as obvious as the electrowhip scars covering them. He hugged himself uncertainly and let Jango wet him down, scrub him, and then rinse him off. Then and only then did Jango settle Obi on his ass in the tub and fill it with warm water. The noise Obi-Wan made at the sensation was almost pornographic.
“You like that, verd’ika?” Jango teased to cover his reaction to the sound. Obi-Wan blushed and it was gorgeous , pretty pink spreading across his face and chest.
“Y...eah,” Obi-Wan muttered grudgingly.
Jango helped him wash further, tsking at the obviously neglected wounds he found on the boy’s skin. The lashes, at least, had been treated somewhat. Dozens of cuts and bruises and older scars had not gotten even that half-assed level of care.
“Even the pirates who bought me took better care of their cargo than this,” he said with a grimace at a particularly wicked scar of Obi-Wan’s.
“Can’t afford to lose too much crew on a freighter, even enslaved crew,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “In the mines, they just work you harder if you lose a teammate. Until eventually they replace them or everyone’s been worked to death.”
“How old were you, exactly, and who sold you?” Jango asked, struggling to keep his temper even. Obi-Wan looked down.
“I was...captured, I guess, just before my thirteenth Life Day,” Obi-Wan said bitterly, staring at the bathwater. “As to who sold me…” he shrugged. “Does it matter? My guardians were glad to see the back of me, one way or another. They’re not going to welcome me ‘home’ now with open arms. If you’re expecting a reward you’ll be disappointed.”
Jango stroked Obi-Wan’s cheek to turn his face to Jango’s. “Hey. You do what I tell you and I’ll make sure you’re set up safe. If you don’t want to go back to your past, that’s fine. You’re young, you can learn a trade or work for a few years to save up for better schooling and switch to skilled labor. I’m not made of money or charity but I can get you started.”
“Why do you care? Just because you were a slave, too?” Obi-Wan was sullen and skeptical, and Jango couldn’t blame him.
“That’s not enough? Well, you aren’t wrong. I care because someone took an interest in me when he could have left me to fend for myself. It’s...not a story with a happy ending - he died not that many years later - but he gave me something to believe in. I’m going to give you something to aim for, at least.”
“Thank you...Jango,” Obi-Wan said cautiously, leaning into Jango’s hand.
Jango gave him a half-smile and patted his cheek. “You’re welcome, Obi-Wan.”
The boy ducked his head shyly and Jango cupped his chin again to force him to meet Jango’s eyes. “You can look at me when I talk to you,” he said seriously. “I prefer it.”
“...Yes, Jango,” Obi-Wan acknowledged, clearly discomfited by the eye contact.
“You’ll get there,” Jango said encouragingly, letting go of his face to return to soaping up Obi-Wan’s skin. “Hair last,” he said when Obi-Wan reached for it. “It’s still filthy. Don’t want you marinating in that,” he explained at Obi-Wan’s guarded look. “We’ll cut it after it’s dried out a bit, and you won’t let it get that bad again, will you?”
“No, sir,” Obi-Wan mumbled.
“Good boy.” He also knew the hair washing would be especially intimate, and he wanted to build up what trust he could before then. Jango kept his efforts brief but not clinical, because clinical would probably get the boy’s hackles up more than lingering would. He managed to resist the urge to coo mockingly at Obi-Wan’s cute little cock, shorter even than the small sac behind it.
Washing Obi-Wan’s hair was exactly as intimate as Jango had expected, and the boy was tense the whole time, hyperaware of how vulnerable he was even if he knew, intellectually, that Jango could have killed him a hundred times by now.
Suddenly Obi-Wan’s stomach gurgled and the kid looked green. Jango grabbed Obi-Wan by the armpits and dragged him to the head. “You puke, you do it in here,” he said emphatically, when Obi-Wan started flailing. Sure enough, he barely had the words out before Obi-Wan was making use of the toilet. Jango sighed. “You ate too fast, didn’t you.” It wasn’t really a question. He should’ve noticed before, that there had been too many ration packets for how scrawny Obi-Wan looked - spacer rations were nutrient dense, not as cheap and unsatisfying as the food pellets Offworld likely fed their slaves.
“I was hungry ,” Obi-Wan said miserably between sicking up.
“After periods of starvation the human stomach shrinks. You can’t eat as much as your brain says you want, and anyway the ration packs you scarfed were calorie-rich, probably half of one would be about your limit if not pushing it right now.”
“‘m sorry.”
“How many did you eat, anyway?”
“...six?”
Jango winced. That was three days of meals, not a huge expense but a bit iffy when he stocked his ship for one occupant and tended to prefer longer hyperdrive jumps, on less populous lanes. He might have to alter course to pick up more supplies.
“Let’s finish cleaning you up and then I’ll get you something mild,” he said. “From now on you eat what I tell you when I tell you and if I find out you snuck food I’m going to punish you. We won’t have the rations to finish this jump if we’re not careful.”
“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan asked, wiping his mouth.
“Nal Hutta. I’m not leaving you there, you’d get enslaved again within a tenday. We need to get to at least mid-rim before I’ll feel comfortable just dropping you off someplace.”
Obi-Wan grimaced and threw up again.
When the boy’s stomach finally settled, Jango dug out a depilatory tonic from the medicine cabinet and mixed it with a mild, unscented lotion. Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the chemical smell of the tonic.
“What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.
“For the lice. You’re going to need to get rid of all that body hair and I doubt you want the electric clippers I use on my head anywhere near your cock. We can use something else on the head hair after I shave it down closer to your scalp. I’m assuming you’re not interested in being bald for a month.”
“...No, sir,” Obi-Wan shook his head.
“Keep it out of any orifices. Legs first, I think. Step back in the tub.”
“I c-can do it myself,” Obi-Wan muttered.
“Will you, though? I don’t want lice in any of my bedding just because you were too shy to depilate your ass.”
“I don’t have lice in my ass!”
“How would you know? Have you looked?”
Obi-Wan growled.
“Obi-Wan,” Jango said flatly. “I am trying to help you.”
“...s-sorry, sir.” Obi-Wan got in the tub, meek as a kitten.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, and was obeyed at once. Jango applied the cream to every inch of Obi-Wan’s legs before carefully working it into the teen’s pubic mound. He covered Obi-Wan’s cock and balls, ignoring his hiss of displeasure at the sting of the chemical on sensitive skin. “Turn around, spread your ass this time.”
When Obi-Wan hesitated but still obliged, one hand pulling at each cheek, Jango covered his dark satisfaction with a lazy smile. “Good boy,” he said smugly as he rubbed the lotion into Obi-Wan’s cheeks and crack. Then he stood, wishing he couldn’t feel his knees quite so well, and coated Obi-Wan’s back and arms. He carefully worked around any still-healing wounds and took the cream all the way up to the nape of Obi-Wan’s neck, then had him turn again.
“Arms up,” he commanded, and Obi-Wan obliged, letting him grind more lotion into the hair of his pits before Jango continued on his throat, jaw, and cheekbones, then moved to his chest. Jango may have lingered a little over each nipple, but in his defense, they were a little hairy. The last patch was the dusky trail of red-brown hair beneath his navel. He was just as thorough with it as he had been for all the rest.
“Is this going to hurt?” Obi-Wan asked miserably. Jango glanced at him, faintly surprised.
“Might tingle or sting a bit,” he admitted. “It has to set a little longer, then we’ll rinse you off.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re doing very well,” he said seriously. “I’m sorry to rush you through all this, but if you wanna sleep in a real bed tonight I wanna make sure that bed stays bug-free.”
“Thank you, Jango,” Obi-Wan mumbled.
“You’re welcome. Now then...let’s shave your head while we wait.” He had Obi-Wan kneel on the floor of the tub so he could see what he was working with.
It had been hacked unevenly with something that should have been a lot sharper, Jango guessed. Since he wasn’t exactly a hairstylist and really only kept clippers for maintaining his own cut, he buzzed it short, scarcely more than an inch. Obi-Wan didn’t protest, but he did flinch whenever the clippers got within close range of his ears - trauma, or just a symptom of two sonics in a short period? No matter. Jango scooped chunks of greasy hair into the trash and then had Obi-Wan stand. With a little digging he found a powerful cleanser that would take care of any lingering bugs.
“Do not get this in your eyes, nose, or mouth,” he told Obi-Wan seriously. “Just rub it into your scalp, then rinse it off.”
Jango left Obi-Wan to rinse himself off with the water shower and got the boy one of his spare tunics. The blue looked good on the kid, even if it was too big in the shoulders and long enough to reach more than halfway down Obi-Wan’s thighs. None of his trousers would have a hope of staying put on such skinny little legs, so he didn’t bother, not when the tunic covered the essentials.
“I’ll get you something better to wear on Nal Hutta,” he said decisively. Though he actually didn’t mind seeing Obi-Wan in his clothes, not when he smelled like Jango from sharing his hygiene products and looked so pretty and delicate.
“Thank you, Jango,” Obi-Wan murmured again, glancing up shyly after he instinctively lowered his head. Jango hummed in acknowledgment, already thinking about how he could fix Obi-Wan’s reflexive obsequiousness.
“Let’s fill up that little belly,” he smirked. “Carefully, this time.” Again there was a flush of pink, and Obi-Wan followed him back to the galley. He cleaned up the remnants of Obi-Wan’s illicit binge and set some water to boil. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” he asked.
“Hoi broth.”
“Hm. Luckily, the stock I have is gringer. Don’t have a whole lot to add to it, but the broth alone is probably best for your stomach right now.”
Obi-Wan kept smoothing his hands down the tunic, and Jango figured out why after a moment’s thought. Even this midgrade cotton was probably the nicest fabric the boy had worn in years, maybe ever.
“Go ahead and sit, it’ll just take a moment,” he said gently. “Now, can I trust you to eat this at a reasonable pace or am I going to have to tie you up?” he asked with false nonchalance. When Obi-Wan grunted in displeasure, he said, “Be honest. I know you’re starving but you can’t eat like it if you want to actually absorb any nutrients before you throw it all back up.”
Obi-Wan’s stomach growled noisily and the boy sniffled. “I...don’t know,” he said, and it sounded like it cost him to admit it.
“Good boy. I appreciate your honesty” He snagged a pair of energy binders from the small arsenal on the other side of the galley. “These will do for now. Hands out.”
Obi-Wan extended his arms reluctantly. His wrists were skinny enough that the adult-sized binders seemed awfully loose, but he couldn’t free his hands from them once they snapped shut. He did try, briefly, looking a bit unsettled. Jango let the join spark to life in front of Obi-Wan, more because he had a position in mind for the meal than for the kid’s comfort.
When the broth was ready, Jango poured a small bowl and settled at the table, patting his lap expectantly. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and slunk over.
“Good boy,” Jango rumbled, rubbing Obi-Wan’s bare thigh and then picking up the spoon. “Remember, just a little at a time. Go too fast and you’ll just make yourself sick again.”
“Yes, sir,” Obi-Wan said softly, though he still chased the spoon when Jango didn’t lift it fast enough. His bound hands were kept in his lap, at least.
A few spoonfuls and Obi-Wan started getting reluctant, then refusing the broth entirely.
“Obi-Wan,” Jango said in a low, not- quite- threatening voice. That got one more sip into the boy, but then he pressed his lips shut and turned his head. “Are you full or just being obstinate?” he asked.
Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched. Jango sighed and started rubbing his stomach. “Are you going to be a fussy little baby about this every time or just this once?”
He could see the redness and wetness rising in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but the boy still didn’t open his mouth. Jango set the spoon in the bowl and dipped his fingers in the broth before smearing them on Obi-Wan’s lips. He licked them clean with a faint moan of dismay, and Jango rubbed his belly harder, easing what he figured was cramps from hunger. Then his hand dipped a little lower on Obi-Wan’s abdomen and his knuckles brushed against tented, slightly damp fabric.
Jango kissed Obi-Wan’s temple.
“It’s okay, baby, I don’t mind. You’re going to have to clean that tunic, but I don’t mind if a pretty boy gets horny in my lap. You want more?” he prompted, dipping his fingers in the broth again. Obi-Wan cried silently as he nodded and sucked them clean obediently. He drank the rest of it from Jango’s fingers without complaint. It kept his intake slow, at least.
Obi-Wan made a mournful little sound when the bowl was empty, and Jango chuckled. “There will be more later,” he promised. “Let’s make sure you keep this down first, though. And get some sleep.”
“Yes, Jango,” Obi-Wan sniffled.
“I don’t have a whole lot of options for beds. There’s a bunk in my holding cell, the bed in my room, and...that’s it. The other berths are just slabs, no mattresses.”
“I’ve slept on worse,” Obi-Wan said with a shrug.
“...I’d prefer if you stay close to me,” Jango frowned. “You have a knack for getting in trouble and I don’t want any more rations going missing.”
Obi-Wan tensed, but ultimately nodded, shuffling out of the galley back into Jango’s room. He offered up his bound wrists hopefully. Jango removed the binders and set them aside, ushering Obi-Wan into the bed and curling around him almost at once. Obi-Wan gave a soft sigh and wiggled until their legs were further entwined. Probably used to cuddling other slaves for warmth. Good. The contact would keep him from sneaking off without waking Jango.
Jango woke a few hours later because of movement against his thigh. He grumbled to himself and grabbed the offending nuisance. The grinding stopped, and soft whimpers greeted him instead. He opened his eyes. His little stowaway was snuffling and jerking his hips, in the grips of a wet dream no doubt. Adolescence. Jango didn’t miss it.
Obi-Wan whimpered a little louder.
Jango pulled him closer as if to comfort him, amused when Obi-Wan’s stuttering hips rutted into him once more. “Obi-Wan, baby, wake up,” he said, stroking what was left of that pretty red hair, enjoying the soft fuzz.
From the way Obi-Wan whined as his eyes opened, and the swiftly spreading damp spot on Jango’s spare tunic, the dream was over and the kid was - yep, blushing again.
Jango carefully didn’t smirk. “No nightmares, I hope,” he said as earnestly as he could manage.
“N-no, sir,” Obi-Wan mumbled, trying to pull away but Jango’s arms kept him firmly in place. “Sir, please…”
“Come now, Obi-Wan Kenobi...don’t you think it’s my turn?” Jango asked.
Obi-Wan looked up at him, wide-eyed, before remembering he was supposed to defer. “J-Jango?”
“I’m kidding, pretty boy. I’m not going to fuck you unless you ask for it, and I’d prefer you not ask because you think it’s the only way to guarantee my assistance. I’m helping you no matter what.”
Obi-Wan relaxed slightly, though he still didn’t truly settle until Jango got dressed and handed him another clean tunic to wear, dumping the soiled clothes into the small laundry cycler.
Jango tossed the binders back to Obi-Wan, who caught them with a frown. “Sir?”
“You haven’t exactly impressed me with your self-control so far, kid. When I think you know better than to scarf on an empty stomach, we’ll talk about letting you feed yourself.”
Obi-Wan buried his blushing face in his hands, so Jango shamelessly used the opportunity to clip the bracelets in place.
Jango cooked more broth, this time adding a small portion of rice grains. For himself, he nibbled on a ration pack as he worked.
At least this time Obi-Wan took the spoonfuls at Jango’s pace without complaint, and didn’t squirm too much or stop eating when he developed another erection. Jango wondered idly if he’d need to start wearing his codpiece to feed the kid - his libido was a little slower to take an interest, at 28 rather than probably-16, but he wasn’t dead . A pretty, aroused boy wriggling in his lap was going to get his dick’s attention soon enough.
When the soup was gone and Obi-Wan’s stomach had been rubbed until it wasn’t gurgling so fiercely, Jango pushed him to his feet. “Time to get a proper look at you, verd’ika,” he said, leading him to the first aid kit. He had a basic medical scanner that he started with to root out anything urgent, though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t find much with it. Obi-Wan seemed healthy aside from the malnourishment and the scarring.
Nothing was infected, thank the stars, and he told Obi-Wan as much, though the kid didn’t seem too impressed. “I don’t have a fever and nothing’s itchy-hot like an infection,” he shrugged. “Don’t need a scanner to tell me that.”
Jango rolled his eyes. “Show me your feet.” They’d been well cleaned yesterday but he hadn’t given Obi-Wan any coverings; the wraps he’d used before needed to be incinerated like his rags, something Jango reminded himself to do later. There were no open sores on Obi-Wan’s feet, at least, though they were dry and rough from being poorly treated for so long. He examined Obi-Wan’s calves and thighs, briefly checked his cock - still half-hard, and clearly functional if rather larger than when flaccid; a shame, it’d been so cute before... - and rucked the tunic up to get another look at the worst of his older injuries, chest first and then back.
Obi-Wan shied away now and then but didn’t complain or struggle.
Until Jango had him open his mouth and promptly stuck a finger in to check for loose teeth. Then Obi-Wan snapped his teeth shut hard enough to draw blood, and Jango grabbed him by the balls and squeezed until Obi-Wan gasped in pain and he could get his finger free.
“Well, your teeth appear to be fine,” he said with a huff, shaking off the pain. Obi-Wan’s eyes were tearing up and he was trying to shove Jango’s uninjured hand off his groin. Jango merely gave an extra, warning squeeze before he let go. “Biting is only a useful reflex when you’re actually threatened and it won’t get you in worse trouble,” he said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to work on that.”
“N-no, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me,” Obi-Wan begged.
“I’m not going to beat you for making one mistake, but I am going to teach you not to make it again. I also want you to think before you speak or act. You can’t run on instinct all the time.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth and Jango raised an eyebrow. Obi-Wan closed his mouth, ducking his head again.
“Cringing like a beaten akk dog won’t get you out of a lesson, either, verd’ika. We’ll work on that, too.” He tugged Obi-Wan back into the hold and opened a cabinet filled with restraints for different species. Most of the time the binders were enough, or cryo for the really dangerous ones, but some aliens had abilities that required special handling.
Plus, there were some things Jango had picked up in his travels that just looked intimidating or pleased him in some way. Such was the case with his small collection of gags, meant to humiliate, terrify, and sometimes injure. The one he picked for Obi-Wan was more of a sex toy than an implement of torture: a metal o-ring on an adjustable leatheris harness. And, in a stroke of luck, he still had the collar he’d picked up as a set with a different gag: a tall, stiff affair meant to keep the head largely immobile.
Obi-Wan, hovering at his shoulder, hunched in on himself when he saw the collection. The collar went on first, to some swearing on Obi-Wan’s part as it forced his chin up.
“I can get you a metal one with a spike right here if you’d prefer,” Jango said blandly, tickling Obi-Wan’s chin.
“N-no,” Obi-Wan squeaked.
“Good boy. Open your mouth.”
He waited. He waited rather longer than he wanted to, but Obi-Wan reluctantly lifted his head enough that he could lower his jaw despite the collar, and let his lips part, watching Jango warily.
Jango moved in close, lifted the gag, and Obi-Wan snapped at his hand, then froze. Jango used the moment of terror to fit the gag in place carefully, not wanting to damage any teeth or get another bite for his troubles. The harness buckled behind the teen’s head securely even as he growled and tried to thrash.
“I warned you, Obi-Wan - that’s a short spanking you’ve just earned yourself, for a second infraction.”
Jango hummed as he inspected the binders. “Let’s remove this temptation as well,” he remarked, unhooking the join between the cuffs, meaning to secure Obi-Wan’s hands behind his back. He wasn’t terribly surprised by Obi-Wan’s sudden panic or his wild squirming, elbows everywhere. “K’uu, k’uu verd’ika, udesii,” he soothed. He knew how to control another person in close combat, and Obi-Wan was still weak from malnutrition. It was easy enough to tuck Obi-Wan’s arms behind his back and reactivate the link between the cuffs.
“Very good, verd’ika,” he said finally, looking at the bound and gagged teenager, still tugging uselessly at the restraints. Obi-Wan struggled to swallow, already beginning to drool thanks to the gag. Jango scooped up the spit with two fingers and pressed them into the boy’s mouth, chasing his tongue as it retreated and then tried to shove his fingers back. The tongue might be an impressive muscle in its own right, but Jango was patient. He left his fingers in Obi-Wan’s mouth until he stopped struggling and started glaring, and then left them longer. After a few more minutes of waiting, the boy’s eyes went glassy and distant. “Very good boy,” he praised quietly, seeing the faint tremor racking Obi-Wan’s body. “You’re doing so well for me, trusting me like this. I’m going to take such good care of you, verd’ika.” He pumped his fingers, petting and fucking Obi-Wan’s mouth with them by turns.
Then he laid down the rules. “Except when you’re eating, the gag or something similar will keep your mouth how I want it until we reach Nal Hutta. The collar stays until you stop ducking your head; on Nal Hutta you’ll get a chance to show you’ve improved and we’ll reassess. The cuffs will be kept on for now. You’ll be bound when you’re eating but for the most part you’ll be able to move your hands freely, so long as you stay where I can see you and leave your collar and gag alone. Mess with them and you’ll go back to being restrained. Do you understand?”
“...’eah,” Obi-Wan said miserably into Jango’s fingers, after two attempts to nod. The gag took up all the remaining slack he had with the collar. He was starting to tear up again.
Jango used his free hand to stroke Obi-Wan’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “I’m doing this to help you, verd’ika. Once you’re a little more socially acceptable we can set you up to succeed. No one wants a feral little ex-slave hoarding rations or lashing out. Now...these are all training tools. I still haven’t punished you for biting.”
Obi-Wan whined.
“K’uu, I won’t hurt you anything like your stupid masters did. Nothing permanent, won’t even break skin. You just calm down and follow me, okay?” Obi-Wan gave a sad little noise of acknowledgment and let Jango lead him back into his bedroom.
Jango kept toying with Obi-Wan’s mouth as he dragged the teen roughly over his spread thighs. “Just a quick spanking and then you’ll be forgiven,” he promised. Obi-Wan’s answering huff of agreement - or protest - was muffled by Jango’s fingers, but that wasn’t a problem. He flipped up the borrowed tunic and started off with a few warming slaps, just to sensitize the naked skin and prepare Obi-Wan for the actual punishment.
By the time he was at five proper blows, he could again feel Obi-Wan’s erection pressing against him. By fifteen the boy was making a mess, leaking drool and precome, and by eighteen he actually came just from being restrained and spanked, which was probably the point when it solidified in Jango’s mind.
He was going to keep this pretty little slut for himself. Train him up right and he’d be a perfect companion.
There were humiliated tears falling on his other leg but he didn’t pay them any mind as he landed the last two strikes.
“Good boy,” he crooned. “You liked that, didn’t you? Not used to proper discipline yet.” He settled Obi-Wan on his knees on the floor, looking at his red face and playing with his mouth again, wiping the boy’s come off his trousers and feeding it back to him. “You feel better now, baby? All’s forgiven.”
Obi-Wan made another muffled croak of agreement around Jango’s fingers.
“You want to be my good boy now, Obi-Wan?” he asked softly, petting Obi-Wan’s shorn hair and tear-stained cheeks.
“Uhu,” Obi-Wan sniffled.
“Are you going to ask for it?” he prompted.
Obi-Wan stared at him blankly before clenching his jaw, then consciously relaxing it. “Blee?”
“‘Please’ what, baby?” Jango asked, palming his groin suggestively.
Obi-Wan nuzzled his inner thigh, his hand, and finally the tent at his crotch.
“Oh, is that what you want?” Jango crooned as though he was talking to a toddler. “You want to show me how good you are?” The boy whined pleadingly through the gag. “If you’re sure,” Jango said, opening his trousers. “Here you go, baby, go slow.” He was more than half-hard from their activities thus far, and Obi-Wan’s mouth was plenty enough to get him fully erect. Hot and wet and entirely new to this, or so it seemed from his tongue’s awkward movements. That inexperience shouldn’t be so attractive, but when Obi-Wan tried to take Jango fully into his throat despite it -
He choked, of course, and Jango’s arousal surged at the fluttering of a throat around the crown of his cock. He grabbed Obi-Wan by the hair, what little he’d left, and held him just shy of choking again.
“Oh, too much for you, baby? K’uu, you just stay there for a while, pretty boy, and get used to feeling filled up,” he said. Obi-Wan looked up at him, wide-eyed, with his pupils almost overtaking the irises. “Yeah, you like that,” Jango purred. “Get used to it, baby. Take deep breaths through your nose and relax. You can take it, you’re such a good boy for me...seeing you in my clothes is difficult enough, but when you’re rubbing off against me like a horny pup? A man has needs. You suit my needs just fine, baby.” He caressed Obi-Wan’s face, eliciting a pathetic whine from the teen.
“You do what I tell you now, ner verd’ika,” Jango told him, rubbing his scalp, petting his hair. “Which means no biting unless I ask for it.”
Obi-Wan sniffled, leaning into the touch hungrily.
He kept the boy on his knees, just laying his cock on Obi-Wan’s tongue, long enough that Obi-Wan’s eyes started drifting shut as he relaxed, all while Jango pet his hair and face. Ten, twenty minutes, maybe? Jango couldn’t say for sure, too wrapped up in how hot and sweet that little mouth was now that it was kept open.
Only when Obi-Wan’s eyes completely closed for a long moment did Jango pull Obi-Wan’s head further down his shaft until he was choking again, eyes flaring open.
“K’uu, settle down, you can take it,” he murmured, holding him in place until he stopped struggling and just cried and gagged. Then he pulled Obi-Wan back far enough to clear his airway. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he mused, thumbing away one of the teenager’s tears. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Take what I give you and then we’ll get you something else to eat.”
Obi-Wan murmured something agreeable-sounding around Jango’s cock, and the bounty hunter groaned, taking note of the pleased gleam in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Little slut,” he snorted. “You want it that bad, baby boy?” he forced Obi-Wan’s head down his cock again, relishing the way his throat squeezed. It was easy to move Obi-Wan in place, but he wanted better leverage. Jango got to his feet, cupping Obi-Wan’s skull with both hands. The boy took a harsh breath through his nose in trepidation.
“Come on, baby, don’t you want a little cream?” he teased, working his hips shallowly at first. “You were eager enough to please a second ago. I told you, verd’ika, you do what I tell you now. I’ll take such good care of you, baby, give you the galaxy if you want it.”
Obi-Wan whined around his cock and he sank in deeper, but the protests died as Jango started fucking his mouth gently. He kept Obi-Wan’s head exactly where he wanted it, but was careful not to get too forceful with the boy, seeing as he was a novice. When he came down Obi-Wan’s throat it felt like victory, almost as nice as killing Kyr’stad hut’uune. Just a few hours’ acquaintance and this sweet, vulnerable little boy was blossoming with his guidance.
He was even more pleased when he stepped back, though he masked it to raise an eyebrow at Obi-Wan’s obvious erection as he tucked his own spent cock away. He tipped the tented, stained fabric up with the toe of his boot and Obi-Wan struggled against the visible urge to cringe back.
“Good boy, stay still,” he murmured, examining the cock before him. Still small, even erect, but at least half again its size when flaccid. “Can you even stroke that enough to get off?” he wondered aloud. Obi-Wan flushed and said...something into the gag. “Here, pretty boy. Show me how you wank that little cock of yours.” He reached down and unhitched the cuffs again. “Ah-ah, don’t get up. I like you down there,” he said when Obi-Wan looked ready to take to his feet. The boy wiped drool from his chin with his palm but didn’t attempt to fuss with the gag, so Jango allowed it.
In fact, he took his palm to his groin and cupped himself, rubbing with the heel of his hand. Jango made an interested noise. “Is that how you manage? Cute.” Obi-Wan flushed but kept jerking his hips to rut into his hand. “And you can come just from that? Humping your hand like a needy little bunny?”
Obi-Wan whimpered and squeezed himself, hips jerking harder and then stilling as he finished. He lifted his hand back up to his mouth and stuck his tongue out to lick it clean, working around the gag.
Jango forced his breathing to even out from the sharp inhale that caused. This sweet little vixen was going to drive him insane. Obi-Wan Kenobi could have been a prince’s pleasure slave, was certainly pretty enough and had the raw talent in spades...but instead he’d landed in Jango’s lap. Crossing his path once, that could be chance, but to end up on his ship after that? More than luck, it had to be someone looking out for them both. Maybe more for Jango than for Obi-Wan.
Jango couldn’t honestly say he was a good man. He followed the Resol’nare and Jaster’s Supercommando Codex, more or less, but he’d made plenty of mistakes and left behind a hell of a body count even before he took up hunting as his primary source of income. Still, he wasn’t some kind of depraved slave master. He wouldn’t truly hurt a pretty, precious thing like Obi-Wan, certainly couldn’t imagine selling him or - or mutilating him like the sadists working in the mine must have.
Maybe Obi-Wan deserved better. Scratch that, he definitely deserved better than a brooding, bitter bounty hunter with only the company of his grudges. But he’d gotten Jango anyway, and held his attention, too. Maybe it meant something, maybe it didn’t. He was going to act like it meant something, though - keep Obi-Wan close, protect him, teach him to protect himself ...and teach him just what Jango liked.
That wasn’t so bad a fate, was it?
Obi-Wan didn’t fight the restraints this time when Jango put them back on.
Jango cleaned him up tenderly and held him for a while, telling him what a good boy he’d been, so sweet and eager.
“I’m gonna give you a lot of small meals while your stomach is still adapting,” he said when he felt they’d rested enough. “So...it’s early yet for lunch, but if you’re hungry…?” Obi-Wan made a soft noise of assent. “Then let’s feed you up.” He gently removed the gag once they were back in the galley, setting it aside. Obi-Wan worked his jaw briefly but didn’t say anything.
“How are you feeling, verd’ika?”
“What language is that? Verdika.”
“It’s - it’s Mandalorian, kid. Means...youth, I guess is the Basic word, but ours is a militaristic society, so it can also be used for younger warriors.”
“And the stuff you were saying earlier? Coo, and ....odessy?”
“ K’uu ,” Jango repeated, amused, “means…hush, or ‘shh.’ Udesii is ‘quiet’ or ‘silence.’ Basically I was telling you to calm down.” He fell silent, then shook his head. “Doesn’t answer my question though, kid. How are you?”
Obi-Wan frowned. “All this gear seems rather...extreme.”
“I could leave you in the cell instead,” Jango said thoughtfully.
“N-no, sir, I just meant - I’m already at your mercy, aren’t I? I can’t fly your ship or I’d have stolen it instead of stowing away.”
“You’re at the mercy of your own instincts, right now,” Jango said, almost gently. “That’s why you bit me when I was checking your teeth but not when I was feeding you. You’ve been the kicked puppy for so long you don’t remember how to look people in the eyes. You’re so hungry you’ll eat yourself sick. That’s just the stuff I noticed in less than a cycle, verd’ika. I want to help you. I’m pretty sure I can help you. But you have to work with me a little. And you’ve got to trust me anyway, because, like you said, you don’t have much choice.”
Obi-Wan’s shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir,” he said ultimately.
“Besides, pretty boy...would you honestly trust anyone who acted out of complete altruism and never challenged you?” Jango asked, patting Obi-Wan on the ass. “Your meal’s ready.” He portioned it into a bowl and sat down. Obi-Wan climbed into his lap awkwardly, since he had no use of his hands. “Good boy,” Jango praised him. “You’re behaving so well for me, I really appreciate it.” He rubbed Obi-Wan’s bare leg soothingly. His skin was so smooth - and the depilatory agent he’d used would keep it that way for at least a month, this being the first treatment Obi-Wan had likely had. The more it was used, the harder it was for the hair roots to reestablish. He was lucky he still had some of the chemical from when he’d decided there were hairs he didn’t want, after years of being unable to clean himself properly.
He waited for Obi-Wan to fidget impatiently before he clued the boy in on what he wanted. “You know how a mando says thank you?”
“...no, sir?”
“Vor entye. Or vor’e, if it’s a small or casual thing. Now, if you wanna eat before it gets cold…” he said leadingly.
“Vor entye, sir,” Obi-Wan said hastily, and Jango laughed.
“Vor’e is fine, pretty boy. And sir, that’s. A little complicated.” He started feeding Obi-Wan as he tried to think how to explain. “Leader or boss is ‘alor.’ But the polite ‘sir’ you might hear from waitstaff, that’s ‘jatne vod,’ or ‘good brother.’ Less of a title and more of a token of respect for a customer. And Mando’a is genderless, so the same term would be used for women.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, sounding more interested. “Alor.” He sampled the word. “I studied a few languages, before I was...taken. Mandalorian wasn’t even offered.”
“What did you study?”
“Bit of everything,” Obi-Wan said, shrugging one shoulder so as not to disturb the lay of the collar. “Ryl. Enough Shyriiwook to get the gist. Binary, of course - for a while I wanted to be a pilot,” he said wistfully. “Those were the ones that made an impression. I still understand binary fairly well - there were droids in the mines, too - and I picked up basic Huttese as a slave. But I haven’t spoken Ryl in a long time.”
“I can teach you more Mando’a, if you want. It would be nice to have someone to speak my native tongue with.”
“...I guess that’d be okay,” Obi-Wan said neutrally, between spoonfuls of soup.
Jango let the conversation lull as he fed Obi-Wan. He knew what he had to do next, but he’d never been good at apologizing.
“I got a little carried away,” he said, rubbing Obi-Wan’s belly and leaving the spoon in the bowl for the moment. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to suck my cock without talking it out first. You didn’t seem too distressed, but I told you I wouldn’t fuck you unless you asked and then I pressured you to ask.”
Obi-Wan was still as a statue in his lap.
“Verd’ika? I’m...sorry, is what I’m trying to say. I’ll be better about checking in with you before we do anything else sexual.”
Obi-Wan’s shoulders shook and Jango wrapped his arms around the teen as he cried silently, the way a slave learned early.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he repeated, kissing Obi-Wan’s neck and face. Gradually the tears dried up. “Do you want any more soup, sweet boy?”
“No thank you, Jango,” Obi-Wan murmured. “I - no one’s apologized to me in years .”
“Hey. Do you know how to use a knife?” Jango asked.
“Put the pointy end in the bad guy?” Obi-Wan joked, laughing a little at the jump in topic. “I was enslaved at twelve, Jango, how much combat training did you have at that age?”
“Mandalorian, remember?”
“...Fair. I think I remember some hand-to-hand, but my instincts, as you say, are in control at the moment. I’m not sure I’d do anything more than flinch and show belly if someone actually hit me.”
“Hm. We’ll work on that, too. I’ll teach you how to use a knife properly. But, for the interim,” he said, detaching a fixed blade in its sheath from his belt and setting it on the table. “I’ll get you a belt to put it on, and you make sure it’s at hand at all times. Carrying it should help you feel a little safer in general. There’s even a...tradition on Mandalore, for sexual partners to exchange blades. So they can make their displeasure abundantly clear if their partner doesn’t respect their boundaries.”
“I...don’t have anything like that. The tradition or a blade, or - “
“K’uu, verd’ika. I think we’ve established you would have to work pretty hard to do anything I don’t want without getting punished for it,” Jango smirked. “If it helps, think of the knife as part of the apology, and your own way of guaranteeing it doesn’t happen again. You can keep it if you decide to move on after I get you someplace safe.”
“...If?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.
“Well, I said you could learn a trade, right? Bounty hunting counts,” Jango shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind keeping a pretty thing like you around.”
“And you’d teach me how to hunt, and fight?” Obi-Wan pressed.
“Absolutely. You’d be a vicious little thing, I bet.”
“And...what if I said I didn’t want to touch you again?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.
Jango hummed thoughtfully, not wanting to step wrong in his answer. “I’d try to persuade you otherwise, probably. But I wouldn’t take the knife back and I wouldn’t make you leave or stop teaching you.” Especially since it was impossible to convince someone who wasn’t around to hear you.
Obi-Wan didn’t say anything for a long moment, chewing his lip as he thought it through. Jango let him, resting his hands on Obi-Wan’s thighs comfortably. He would win Obi-Wan over, if it came to it.
“...I reserve the right to leave - no indenturing, debts, or long-term contracts,” he said ultimately.
“Fair enough. I will feed, clothe, and house you but any additional supplies provided are for training or specific contracts only - you don’t get to take them with you if you leave. And I decide when you’re ready to assist with contracts. We’ll discuss cuts when you’re further along. Anything you buy with your cut is yours, of course.”
“That seems reasonable,” Obi-Wan said.
“Can I kiss you?” Jango asked softly, nuzzling Obi-Wan’s neck.
“Wh-wha - okay?” Obi-Wan agreed faster than Jango expected. He shifted the boy in his lap so they could face each other a little better, and captured Obi-Wan’s lips with his own. It was a soft kiss, gentle and searching, and Obi-Wan was breathless, wide-eyed, and erect when Jango pulled away some moments later.
He smiled. “You’re so sweet,” he said, kissing Obi-Wan’s cheek, petting his thighs. “Do you want more?”
“Please, yes, more,” Obi-Wan whined.
“You’ve gotta be specific, baby. Use your words and tell me what you want. I’d hate to do something you didn’t want.”
“Jango...please, I don’t know, more kisses? More touches...hold me, please?”
Jango wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and dragged him closer, until he was leaning sideways against Jango’s chest. “I can do that,” Jango murmured, kissing Obi-Wan’s neck as his hand skated up the boy’s thigh. “You want me to touch you here?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“I told you to use your words, precious.”
“Oh...please, yes, Alor. Touch my cock?”
“Such a pretty little cock you’ve got, baby,” Jango hummed, cupping him in one hand, sac and cock both, without much issue. “Little handful~...you wanna hump my palm, baby? Or should I stroke it?”
“S-stroke it, Alor, please?” Obi-Wan begged, flushing red.
“Alright, baby. You don’t have to be ashamed of your cute little cock, you know? I like you like this, my pretty little handful,” he crooned.
Obi-Wan just squirmed, bound hands catching on Jango’s leg, prompting him to shove the nearly-empty bowl away (remembering he’d made a promise) and unhitch the cuffs. Obi-Wan rested a hand on the knife and flailed a bit with the other before saying: “Can I touch you, Alor? Please?”
“Sure, baby,” Jango said. “Touch me,” he said, peppering Obi-Wan's face with kisses as he stroked that little cock with his thumb and two fingers, relishing how small it was. Obi-Wan’s hand was tentative as he petted Jango’s tunic, but he grew bolder the closer he got to Jango’s groin.
“I showed you what I like,” Obi-Wan said, palming Jango’s crotch. “Will you show me what you like?”
“I like your pretty little mouth,” Jango said, chasing Obi-Wan for another kiss to his nose. “But I’ll settle for your hand,” he mused. “You can start by helping me out of these trousers,” he added, working his own hand over Obi-Wan’s erection to distract him. It took the teen several tries to get Jango out one-handed but he seemed very reluctant to release the knife in his grasp. Jango would have to find him a belt sooner rather than later.
He didn’t stop working Obi-Wan’s cock - firm enough to arouse, too gentle to get him off. Obi-Wan didn’t complain, or not yet at least.
“Go ahead and lick your hand or spit in it. Good boy. Now wrap it around the base.” Obi-Wan’s fingers barely met his thumb when he stretched them around Jango’s cock. That one reminder of the difference in their sizes had Jango pumping his hand harder and twisting his wrist. Obi-Wan tensed up and Jango eased off entirely, shushing him when he whimpered. “Udesii,” he soothed. “Was that too much, little one?” he asked.
“N-no, Alor, that was - was, good, please give me more,” Obi-Wan begged, working Jango awkwardly.
“Hmm. Straddle my lap, baby, I’ll give you a treat,” Jango said. Obi-Wan had to use both hands to rearrange himself on Jango’s knees, and he squeaked in alarm when Jango dragged him closer by the ass, until they were almost chest-to-chest. The teen scrabbled for his knife and clutched it to his chest. Jango, meanwhile, licked his palm thoroughly and wrapped a hand around both their cocks, slowly rubbing them together. “How’s that feel, verd’ika?”
“G-good, fuck, so good.”
“I can make it better,” Jango bragged teasingly. “You wanna know how?”
“...yeah?”
“I can put a finger in your ass and make you come harder than you’ve ever come before.”
Obi-Wan considered this, rolling his hips slightly as Jango kept wanking them both slow and steady. “Do it,” he said finally, licking his lips.
Jango hummed. “It’s a shame I can’t trust that mouth yet.” He sucked on his own finger. Spit didn’t last long, though, so he was a little pushier than he would otherwise have been, getting it into Obi-Wan.
The kid just frowned and fidgeted a little. “I don’t get it, what’s the bIG DEAL?” he yelped when Jango turned his hand and curled his finger searchingly. Jango grinned.
“That, my young friend, is the ‘big deal.’ It’s called a prostate,” he rubbed into it again and Obi-Wan’s cock dribbled as the boy gasped with pleasure. Jango paused to reslick his hand with the precome and smear it over both of them. He worked both hands carefully, trying to draw out Obi-Wan’s orgasm slowly this time, get a good feel for when he would go off. “You like that, baby?” he asked, leaving kisses along Obi-Wan’s cheek and jaw before licking and nuzzling his ear. He jacked them harder, then pressed against Obi-Wan’s prostate until he was crying out from pleasure, spilling all over their cocks.
Jango grinned, nibbling along Obi-Wan’s neck and releasing the boy’s little prick to finish himself. It took a dozen more pumps of his hand, given the recent blow job, but there was plenty of convenient fluid now. He tugged his finger free carefully and picked up the discarded ring gag.
Obi-Wan made a mournful little noise. “K’uu, you’re okay, verd’ika. We’ll go find you a more comfortable gag, you don’t have to wear this one anymore.” As much as he enjoyed seeing Obi-Wan drool and struggle with the ring gag, it really wasn’t meant for long-term use.
He helped the boy off his lap, drank the remainder of the broth himself, washed his hands, and took them to the hold. There was a specific piece he had in mind, very adjustable, paired with a remote control that handled the minor tech functions. By most definitions, it was more muzzle than gag, keeping the lower jaw immobile and pressed against the upper, unless the remote was used to relax the chinstrap and allow speech or chewing.
Something Obi-Wan could wear long-term, even in his sleep. There was also an offset expanding grate to cover the wearer’s mouth, since Jango didn’t feel like risking his fingers to let Obi-Wan drink liquid sustenance.
Which...gave him an idea, actually, but he’d need to be subtle about employing it.
He made a show of going through the other gags, having Obi-Wan try on a few that would stretch his jaw or require him to contort uncomfortably, especially when paired with the collar. He enjoyed the look of the bit digging into Obi-Wan’s cheeks but could understand why Obi-Wan didn’t like the feel of it. “Hm...I suppose there’s this one,” Jango said dismissively when the boy was almost crying with fear that he’d have to go back to the ring gag. He had to help Obi-Wan figure out the straps, but the boy’s relief was palpable when he was secured in it at last. “Is that better, sweetheart?” he asked, and got a tearful nod in reply. He pressed the button to loosen the chinstrap and Obi-Wan licked his lips.
“Thank you, Alor, this one is perfect,” he said.
Jango smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear it. Let’s put up this mess and see what your educational needs are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whatever schooling you got stopped at thirteen, I assume,” Jango said, sorting the gags and muzzles to their proper places in his cabinet.
“Yes, Alor.”
“If you’re gonna be learning Mando’a there’s no reason you shouldn’t learn other things as well. Some of it’s Mandalorian stuff I’d teach anyone joining my clan, which you’re welcome to do, of course, but there’s also things like piloting, astronav, the laws and organizations that regulate bounty hunting...a surprising amount of the profession is regulated and knowing those rules saves you a lot of headaches - and potentially jail time - later on.”
“Oh. Can...can I learn other things, too?” Obi-Wan asked.
“What are you interested in?” Jango returned, locking up the cabinet once everything was back where it belonged.
“Um. Xenobiology…”
“That’s good - should come in handy.”
“...and galactic cultures.”
Jango paused. “I can still see some applications, so we’ll look into educational modules and discuss that one.”
Obi-Wan smiled tentatively behind the grate of the muzzle. Jango kissed his forehead, and Obi-Wan smiled a little wider. “You really...want me to join? Your clan, I mean?”
“I mean, I didn’t figure right away. But if you stick around for a while, and you want to...I’d make you a Mereel,” he said thoughtfully. “My adoptive father’s clan. He would have liked you.” He would have adopted Obi-Wan in a heartbeat, and would have made sure Jango treated him more kindly than he was planning, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe, had Jaster lived longer, Jango would have wanted to be kinder to Obi-Wan, but he’d never know that for sure.
Obi-Wan looked up at him in something like awe. “You can do that?”
Jango shrugged. “Mandalorian family units are pretty flexible. But yes, I’m technically the last surviving Fett and the last surviving Mereel. I can decide what names to share.” He hesitated. “I would share Fett with an ad or riduur - a child or a spouse. I wouldn’t want to ‘replace’ my sister with another Fett sibling. But I can adopt a ‘cousin’ as a Mereel easily enough.”
“Nobody...nobody ever wanted me. Even the slavers thought I was barely worth feeding. The overseers at the mines practically got me for free,” Obi-Wan admitted, his eyes dark with remembered horrors.
Jango stroked his hair and pulled him into an embrace. “I want you, baby,” he murmured. “I want to make you as deadly as you are beautiful. No one will ever dismiss you or disregard you again.”
Obi-Wan clung to him, and Jango picked him up without much trouble, taking him to the small couch in his galley and settling down on it with a boy in his lap and a datapad at hand.
They spent a lovely hour or so looking through Jango’s small data library and making note of what they wanted to add to it, cuddling the whole time. Once they left hyperspace they could look at educational catalogs on the holonet, though Jango would likely need an information broker to download the larger modules on datasticks.
Jango glanced at a chrono and grumbled softly. Obi-Wan was being such a sweet little lapful, but he kept to a pretty rigid schedule of workouts these days and...actually, this might be a good excuse to get his hands all over his new pet: teaching him stances and katas.
“You want to do some training, baby?” he asked, rubbing Obi-Wan’s leg. “This is when I usually work out.”
Obi-Wan hummed drowsily. “‘Kay, Alor.” He didn’t move, which made Jango chuckle.
“You have to get off my lap for us to get anywhere,” he said teasingly. “Carrying you around some more isn’t the kind of workout I was looking for.”
Obi-Wan opened his eyes at that. “Oh. Right.” He was faintly pink, but he stood up and stretched, looking at Jango again. “Where are we going?”
“Well, normally I put up the bed and work out in my quarters, but since there’s two of us and no bounties at the moment, the hold seems more practical. We’ll make sure to go slow - don’t want you to stub any toes or slip on the flooring. I’ll buy you some shoes at Nal Hutta, then we can start to spar a bit at that point. For now I’ll teach you some forms - stances and basic moves.”
That got a shallow nod.
Obi-Wan had a surprisingly thorough grounding in hand-to-hand, considering he likely hadn’t been able to train for the past three years. His stamina was not great and his muscle memory had faded somewhat, but his stances were still solid.
After an hour of light exercise, which included more than a little of Jango repositioning, touching, and outright groping his pet, Jango called a halt. Obi-Wan looked ready to protest until his stomach growled.
“I could go longer,” Obi-Wan grumbled, though he followed Jango to the galley nonetheless.
“I’m sure you can, baby, but I want to feed you up.” Jango patted Obi-Wan’s cheek, thumbing one of the muzzle’s straps. “Let’s see how we can work around this,” he hummed. “I don’t want you getting any ideas at mealtimes.”
Obi-Wan huffed. “Jango, I won’t bite when you feed me, promise.”
Jango sighed and clicked the remote, effectively shutting Obi-Wan up as the muzzle tightened. “Baby, I’m just trying to help you,” he said reasonably. “And if I could trust you we wouldn’t be in this situation. Some of that’s on me - I don’t trust easily. But listening to me, doing what I tell you without argument, that’s how you’ll gain my trust. Now, we’re going to see how well you can get some water down through that grate and then we’ll get some broth in you. Understood?”
Obi-Wan nodded with a little whimper and, when prompted, turned to let Jango bind his hands behind his back once more.
Jango used the remote to let the chinstrap go slack again, and poured a bowl of water, setting it on the table, then sitting and helping Obi-Wan into his lap. Obi-Wan stared at the bowl miserably for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t think I can do this without help, Alor,” he conceded.
“Good boy,” Jango said.
They tried a few solutions - Jango tipping a bowl or cup at various angles against the grate, Obi-Wan going face-first into the bowl, and a few other pouring methods. All were messier than either of them would like, and Obi-Wan disliked being helpless to set the pace of intake. It felt too much like drowning.
Jango pretended to inspect the grate once more with a huff, taking advantage of the moment to admire Obi-Wan's mouth. "There's one last option, but I'm not sure you'd go for it. Since the muzzle is ultimately a short term solution...though, I do want it to be comfortable."
"At least let me hear it," Obi-Wan muttered.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got a baby bottle somewhere,” Jango said, watching Obi-Wan carefully. If he balked too much, Jango might have to relent on the muzzle staying on for meals.
Obi-Wan turned a fascinating shade of red, his mouth clicked shut, and he shook his head as much as he could with the collar on, squeaking a little in distress. Which...shouldn’t be so damn cute.
“K’uu, ad’ika, it’s just until the muzzle comes off. I’ve got a few protein mixes you can have instead of broth. Won’t that be nice?”
“‘M not a baby ,” Obi-Wan said ultimately, sniffling.
“And I don’t fuck children,” Jango said, patting Obi-Wan on the head. “Let me see if I can find it, before you get all fussy. Stay here and don’t make any more of a mess.”
“‘Lek, Alor,” Obi-Wan grumbled, squirming in the damp tunic.
Jango remembered exactly where he’d left the bottle a few months ago, because he’d been thinking about it ever since he put the muzzle on Obi-Wan. Still, he dawdled a bit, reorganizing some things in the hold. He wanted Obi-Wan hungry for this. He did have a small stroke of luck in his fake search: he found a packet of chocolate powder he could use to flavor the protein mixes.
“Good news, baby,” Jango said as he reentered the galley. Obi-Wan was still sitting in the chair he’d left him in, though his face was wet again, and not from tears. He’d tried to drink again, then. The bowl had slopped water on the table and floor, but there hadn’t been much left in it to begin with.
He sighed in disappointment nonetheless. “Stubborn bunny,” he said with a measure of fondness that startled him. Obi-Wan was growing on him despite his misbehavior, it seemed. “I was going to let you try some of this with your protein but now I think you’ll have to earn the privilege.” He waggled the packet of chocolate at Obi-Wan, relishing the way the boy’s eyes went wide and pleading.
“Sorry, Alor,” was all he said, though, shoulders drooping.
Jango kissed his forehead and started heating water for the protein powder, stowing the chocolate in his spice rack. A small serving only took a few minutes to reduce to something vaguely edible. He ran the bottle through a sterilization cycle and poured the mix in carefully.
“Here you go sweetheart,” Jango said, settling in the chair beside Obi-Wan and pulling the boy into his lap with one arm. He was probably riding the edge of being dangerously thin, but once they made Nal Hutta, Jango could see about fixing that. More high-calorie rations, more protein mixes, careful monitoring of his weight. In the meantime he’d just make sure the boy had food as often as possible given their limited inventory.
He held the bottle just far enough from Obi-Wan that the teen had to lean in and stretch his neck a little to get the nipple past the grate of the muzzle. He lapped at the dripping tip delicately before latching, red faced.
“Good baby,” Jango hummed, rubbing Obi-Wan’s belly. There was a faint growl, but when Jango pulled the bottle away to reprimand him, it turned to a whimper as Obi-Wan chased the teat. “Behave,” was all he ended up saying, earning another wordless whine from his pet until he brought the bottle back in range. “You were thirsty, huh? I’ll need to make sure you drink more when we exercise.” From the bottle, of course.
Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgment as he suckled eagerly.
“Fuck, baby,” Jango muttered, nuzzling Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I haven’t wanted to fuck this much in years. You’re so pretty.” He kissed Obi-Wan’s cheek between the straps of the muzzle. “Such a shame I can’t trust your hot little mouth.”
Obi-Wan squirmed in Jango’s lap, rubbing against his crotch. Jango exhaled harshly against Obi-Wan’s ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth. That got Obi-Wan’s attention, making him let go of the nipple in his mouth and whine pleadingly.
“You want more, baby? You’ve gotta ask for it.”
“Yes, please Alor please, I’m sorry I’m so - n-needy I just. I just can’t stop.”
“it’s okay, baby, I like you all sweet and desperate for my cock. What do you want?”
“I...will you...what you did earlier…”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific, baby boy. Lots of earlier to choose from.”
“Um. W-with your finger. Inside me.” Obi-Wan was bright red now, so Jango took pity.
“You want me to play with your prostate some more, baby?” he asked, rubbing up against Obi-Wan’s ass. “I could try something a little bigger than a finger…”
Obi-Wan squeaked, “L-like what?”
Jango chuckled. “Are you being hopelessly obtuse on purpose?” he asked, nibbling the curve of Obi-Wan’s ear. “I’d start with just one finger, work up to three, maybe four, stretch you out really well, and then I’d give you my cock, ever so slowly. Does that sound good?”
“Yes, fuck yes, please Jango,” Obi-Wan whined.
“Do you want me to feed you the whole time or should I make you finish your meal first?” Jango asked. “You’ve got to eat, baby.”
Obi-Wan pouted, clearly not interested in waiting. Jango rubbed the teen’s lower belly, kissing at his ear and his neck. It didn’t help, but then, he wasn’t expecting it to. Obi-Wan stammered and squirmed for a moment before Jango pressed the bottle back to the grate until he took the nipple in his mouth again.
“Good baby,” Jango crooned. “We’ll let you finish your food first, since you’re so indecisive.” Obi-Wan made an indignant noise and spilled a little fluid down his chin. Jango tsked and grabbed a kitchen cloth to wipe it away. “Such a messy, messy baby,” he huffed, his eyes dark.
Fortunately for both of them, Obi-Wan was almost finished with the bottle.
“That’s it, baby, drink it down,” Jango said, stroking Obi-Wan’s belly again.
“Please,” Obi-Wan begged after he drained the last of the mixture. “ Please .”
Jango pushed the bowl and bottle away and helped Obi-Wan lean over the table before freeing his hands and setting the knife down, not caring a whit that Obi-Wan’s borrowed tunic was soaking up the water from earlier. A problem for later, maybe, but not enough of an issue to deter him. He shoved up the hem of the tunic and squeezed Obi-Wan’s ass. A skinny little thing, for now at least, but he’d make inroads on that soon with consistent meals.
He dug a tube of lubricant from one of his pockets and slicked his hand. “Pretty baby,” he hummed, stroking the boy’s inner thigh. “Spread your legs for me?”
Obi-Wan did so, gripping the knife hilt with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. He whined a little at the first finger but once it was rubbing against his prostate he was all quivers and moans. Jango took his time, planning to drive Obi-Wan absolutely mad before he had him, with a long-term goal of getting him so accustomed to and keen on anal pleasure that he forgot he even had a cock.
“Sweet baby,” he said, crooking his finger to make Obi-Wan sob. “You want more?”
“Yes, yes, Jango please, Alor, please.”
“Of course, baby. Anything you want.” He turned his wrist a little and retracted the first finger slightly to begin dipping a second into Obi-Wan’s hole.
“Ohh,” Obi-Wan gasped, lifting his hips as he rose up on tiptoe. “Yes, please.” Thus encouraged, Jango pushed gently until he was buried up to his knuckles.
“Sweet, slutty baby,” Jango teased, using his free hand to tweak one of Obi-Wan’s nipples through the damp cloth, eliciting a sharp gasp. Then he spread his fingers inside Obi-Wan, drawing out a groan. “So responsive, Ob’ika. Look at you, my sweet little whore.”
“Alor,” Obi-Wan whined. “Alor please…”
“Hmm...I should teach you to beg in Mando’a,” Jango smiled. “Would you like that?”
“Yes! Tell me how to - how to please you, Alor, what do you want me to say, please?”
“‘Gedetir’ is to plead or beg. ‘Gedet’ye’ is ‘please.’ Oh, and while we’re at it…to strongly apologize, you can say ‘ni ceta.’ Literally it means ‘I kneel’ but it’s used figuratively as well. A less... serious apology is ‘N’eparavu takisit,’ typically used to apologize for insults or misspeaking.”
Obi-Wan was going to be the politest little Mandalorian ever if Jango had his way. Well, he’d be polite to his Alor, at least.
“Gedet’ye, ni ceta...n’epara...vu...takasit?”
“Takisit, but very good. Jate. You have a good ear for languages, don’t you, baby?”
“Elek, Alor.”
“Now...what are you begging for at the moment, baby? More fingers? You want it that bad?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan sobbed. “Feels so good inside me, please, gedet’ye, please more .”
Jango gave him a third finger, gentle and slow and not at all what Obi-Wan wanted, to judge by the frustrated whimper. Jango smirked. “What’s the matter, little baby?”
“Gedet’ye, harder Jango, please?”
Fucking his hand into Obi-Wan roughly earned him punched-out little moans of pleasure until Jango abruptly stopped. Obi-Wan sobbed.
“What is it? Too rough?” Jango asked, faux-concerned.
“Please, more, just like that, gedet’ye, gedet’ye!”
Jango switched to four fingers, working them in carefully. Obi-Wan gasped, leaning forward and panting. Jango curled a fingertip to brush against his prostate as he pet the boy’s flank and asked, “You sure, baby? You’re okay?” He worked the pad of his finger against the bundle of nerves, moving in the tiniest of circles.
“Nnngh, Jango, Alor, please don’t stop,” Obi-Wan begged.
Appeased, Jango picked up right where he’d left off, his pace harsh and demanding.
Obi-Wan’s pleased gasps turned slowly into high-pitched whines as Jango drilled into his prostate with the tips of his fingers. The boy came with a strangled scream, without a single touch to his cock.
“Good boy, Ob’ika, you did beautifully,” Jango purred, stroking Obi-Wan’s back with his free hand. He left the other buried in Obi-Wan’s ass for the moment. When Obi-Wan shifted his weight back towards his feet and off the table, he took Jango’s fingers just a fraction deeper, and squealed at the stimulation to his prostate.
“J-Jango, please, ni ceta, please let go?” he begged, throwing himself forward on the table. Jango removed his hand slowly, petting Obi-Wan’s stretched rim before he drew back further.
“You still gonna take my cock, pretty baby?” Jango asked, thumbing Obi-Wan’s hole. The boy whimpered.
“Ni ceta, ni ceta, I don’t think I can,” Obi-Wan groveled.
“Poor baby,” Jango teased, still playing with Obi-Wan’s entrance. He spat a wad of saliva onto it and rubbed it in as Obi-Wan keened and his little hole twitched. “Sure about that? I think you want to try~.”
“Hnn, please, gedet’ye Alor, I - I do want to.”
“Then let’s try, baby. Be brave, hm? You can say 'udesii' to slow down, 'gev' to stop.”
“Udesii or gev,” Obi-Wan repeated, nodding shallowly in the posture collar.
“Good boy. First, though, let’s get you into bed.” He tossed Obi-Wan over his shoulder easily, hauling him to the cabin. Obi-Wan grunted at the abrupt shift in position, but didn’t struggle, just clung to his sheathed knife and to Jango.
Tossing him onto the mattress earned Jango a little squeak from Obi-Wan, then the boy rolled onto his back.
“It’ll be easier on your hands and knees, pretty baby,” Jango told him. “We’ll have plenty of chances to try other positions once you’re used to getting fucked.” Obi-Wan clutched his knife to his chest for another moment before nodding. He set the blade aside and stripped off the loose, damp tunic before settling on his elbows and knees, keeping the knife in hand.
Jango lubed his cock hastily, but made sure to enter with all the patience he could muster. Obi-Wan’s legs trembled and he moaned the whole way, but his ragged gasp when Jango was fully sheathed inside him was more pleasure than pain.
He hadn’t said a word yet, and Jango waited, content to hold Obi-Wan on his cock and nuzzle his shoulder, cling to his hips and revel in that virginal heat. After several long moments, Obi-Wan started to squirm. “Gedet’ye, Jango, please move?”
“So needy,” Jango chuckled. “Tell me how you want it.”
“Please, I don’t know, just. Give me more?”
“For you, baby? Of course,” Jango purred, drawing back slowly. He rolled his hips in gentle circles, just warming up. His hands stroked Obi-Wan’s chest, tweaking his nipples and skating along his regrettably prominent ribs. “Such a sweet little hole for me, baby,” he hummed, draping himself over Obi-Wan’s back again to nibble and suck at his ear. “You like my cock in you, don’t you, pretty boy?”
“Elek, Jango, Alor, please, gedet’ye,” Obi-Wan rambled breathlessly, pressing back into each thrust as best he could with his limited leverage.
Jango maintained his slow, rhythmic pace until Obi-Wan was whimpering in arousal rather than overstimulation. “That’s it, gorgeous, just relax,” Jango hummed, petting Obi-Wan’s sides before letting his hands rest on Obi-Wan’s hips, squeezing briefly. Most of Obi-Wan obeyed the implied order, though his arm was still tense, gripping the knife in its sheath.
“Good baby,” Jango assured him, stroking his skin wherever he could reach now, exploring the scars and blemishes, memorizing them with his hands. “So good for me. You ready to come again?”
Obi-Wan whimpered, shaking his head.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
“It’s too soon, I can’t,” he fussed.
“I think you can, sweetheart. But I’ll go slow.” He shifted his hips so his cock scraped along Obi-Wan’s prostate and the boy moaned desperately. “Or maybe it’s faster that you want?” He prompted.
“Nnngh, slow, g-gedet’ye.”
“Hmm.” Jango ground his cock in deep, thrusting leisurely for a few moments just to enjoy the flutter and clench of Obi-Wan’s stretched hole. “So good for me,” he hummed, then hooked his fingers in the posture collar, cutting off a little of Obi-Wan’s air. The boy arched his back and Jango’s cock sank a fraction deeper. He released the collar to grab the straps at the back of Obi-Wan’s muzzle and haul the kid up, back to Jango’s chest. The tight hole was gripping him so well.
“Such a good boy. You like this, baby? You like my cock in you, don’t you?”
“Elek, Alor.” Obi-Wan gripped the knife in one hand and reached down to cup himself with the other.
“Did I tell you that you could touch that?” Jango asked, voice low and dangerous.
Obi-Wan paused, then let go, grabbing at the knife with both hands now.
“Don’t want you to shoot off again without warning, baby,” Jango continued reasonably. “You’ll want to come just before I do, or not long after.” He licked Obi-Wan’s ear. “Easier to do that if it’s just my cock doing the work.”
“Elek, Alor,” Obi-Wan repeated.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty, speared open on my dick,” Jango murmured. “Such a good little whore for me.” He slapped Obi-Wan’s ass, nipping the boy’s neck when he clenched up involuntarily. “Fuck yeah, that’s right baby,” he breathed against pale skin, thrusting in a few more times before landing another slap. This time when Obi-Wan tightened up, Jango spilled inside him with a grunt, working his cock a little to scrape along Obi-Wan’s prostate again. The boy finished in a gasp of pleasure, squirming a little as he felt Jango’s cum leak from him when the bounty hunter pulled out.
“So good,” Jango purred.