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Myles frowned when Jango froze in his steady path kissing down his skin.
“Something wrong, cyare?”
Jango pushed up and Myles immediately missed the warmth of Jango against him. “You have scars.”
Myles raised an eyebrow at that. “That’s not exactly new, Jan’ika.”
Jango scowled at him a little at the diminutive, but was too distracted to say anything about it. “You have lies on your skin, Myles. And I wasn’t the one who put them there.”
Myles froze. Lies.
He looked down at his body and it took a moment for his gaze to find the faint lines etched over his ribs, but it was difficult to read the faint scars, upside down as they were. “What do they say?”
“The first one says ‘Ben’.” Ben, Ben, there had been the New Mandalorian—Sundarian accent and weaponless—that had literally crashed head first into Myles this morning in the market. “The second one says. ‘I’m fine, I don’t need your help.’”
Ben who had looked like he was running for his life. Even if he had been a New Mandalorian hu’tuun, Myles didn’t make a habit of ignoring clearly distressed individuals. “I met him in the market this morning,” Myles said slowly. “Looked like he was in trouble.”
“You have another soulmate.” Jango rubbed a hand over his face, looking shocked and unsure. “You have another soulmate.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” Myles said quietly. “I love you, Jango.”
Jango’s lip quirked into a smile. “I know. I’m just…” He shook his head. “You know how rare that is?”
Myles had no idea, he had never been as interested in soulmates as Jango was. He found them useful, of course, he had one. Interesting. But he’d never studied them the way Jango had.
“I’m going to assume rare.”
“One in ten million,” Jango informed him. “Literally.”
Myles sat up, pulling a blanket up to cover him to avoid the chill. “So,” he said after a long moment of silence. “What do we want to do about it?”
“He’s your soulmate.”
“And your my riduur,” Myles said easily. “I’m not doing anything without talking it over with you.”
Jango looked indecisive for a moment but then nodded. “I want to meet them, whoever this not-Ben is. Anyone destined to match you has to be something special.”
“He looked New Mandalorian,” Myles warned.
Jango made a face at that. They were in a not-quite war with the New Mandalorians right now, though between kyr’tsad causing problems and the Duchess having gone missing after the death of her buire tensions had been brought to a temporary halt.
“That’s… not optimal,” Jango admitted. “But I can’t imagine someone who wouldn’t appreciate all parts of you could ever be your soulmate.”
Myles nodded, though he couldn’t help a twist of apprehension. He couldn’t imagine loving someone who thought it right to strip his armor and his culture away from him.
“So we try to find them,” Myles agreed. “Find out just what sort of person this not-Ben is.”
And wasn’t that interesting. Why lie about his name of all things. Perhaps he’d recognized Myles as riduur to the Mand’alor and had felt the need to be cautious, but that felt… off.
Jango nodded, but he was looking at Myles’ scars again, finger coming to trace them. “One in ten million,” he repeated. “Can’t be anything but special.”
Myles narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if this was going to be a problem. If they should not try to find his soulmate.
“I love you, cyare,” he said quietly. “You have to know that.”
Jango snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Never questioned that, Myl’ika.” He leaned forward, giving Myles one of the filthy, yet sweet kisses that Myles adored. Myles couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. “You’re lucky to have me.”
He’d have a scar from that, Myles knew, one that would fade quickly, but it would be there. Jango didn’t think he was really worthy of love, hadn’t since Galidraan had killed so many of their people and only Myles’ demands that Jango step back up to his position had kept Jango from self-destructing.
It had also been what had finally drawn them back to Mandalore. Their people had needed a stability that being a mercenary group couldn’t provide them. They’d needed roots.
It was also what had brought them into conflict with the New Mandalorians.
“I am,” Myles murmured once the kiss broke, taking satisfaction in the fact that he knew the words wouldn’t appear on Jango’s skin.
Jango pulled back, and he was clearly distracted again with what Myles recognized as Jango’s ‘plotting’ face on. “Where’d you run into your soulmate again?”
Myles sighed, pushing himself out of the bed to find his clothes. Jango was clearly going to be distracted from sex until they found his soulmate.
Keldabe was a busy place, but a New Mandalorian clearly in some sort of trouble couldn’t be that hard to find.
The New Mandalorian clearly in some sort of trouble was even easier to find than Myles had expected.
This was, in part, because there had been several kyr’tsad commandos that decided to make trouble and it required both Myles and Jango to put a halt on the search, only to find not-Ben acting in a way that was distinctly not very New Mandalorian-esque.
The vicious way he jumped, twisted his legs around the neck of a kyr’tsad commando and sent them crashing into the ground, quite possibly breaking the commando’s neck in the process, was the sort of violence that New Mandalorians rather distinctly frowned upon.
It was kriffin’ attractive though.
Beside him Jango lunged forward, throwing himself into the fight, radiating the vicious rage that was always present when kyr’tsad was involved. Myles threw himself in right after him.
It took several minutes to end the fight, whatever Ben had gotten himself into… well, a person didn’t have a full squad of commandos after them for no reason.
In the aftermath the three of them stood, surrounded by dead or soon-to-be dead commandos, breathing heavily.
Ben looked about ready to make a run for it, eyeing them both with the trepidation of someone who expected things to go wrong very quickly.
Myles stepped forward, trying to subtly place himself between Ben and the most convenient way out, though the way Ben’s eyes darted from him to the street made it clear he’d noticed. “Ben,” Myles kept his voice calm. “I was looking for you.”
Jango’s head whipped around, staring at Ben in shock. There hadn’t been time between stumbling on the fight and getting involved in the fight for Myles to explain just who it was they’d just found.
Ben’s gaze darted toward the street again. “Why’s that?” Ben asked, tone not-quite conversational. He sounded exhausted, Myles noted, even with only two words to judge and Myles could hear the strange slowness to the words that came when a person was struggling to string a sentence together.
Myles tapped at his ribs where thee two lies lay. “Found a few scars on my body that hadn’t been there before.”
Ben paled.
Myles felt his gut twist unpleasantly. Finding a soulmate was supposed to be a good thing, not something that would cause that reaction.
“What makes you think they’re from me,” Ben asked, voice taking on an edge.
Myles raised an eyebrow, though it lost it’s effect, hidden by his buy’ce as it was. “No one else has gone around introducing themselves as Ben lately,” he pointed out dryly. “Made it a pretty good indicator.”
Ben let out a quiet curse. “Look, it’s good to meet you,” he said, and it was clear he meant nothing of the sort, Myles had the feeling that he was going to end up with quite a few scars from Ben. “But I’m sort of caught up in something right now.”
Myles tilted his head to take in the squad of kyr’tsad around them. “You know, I rather gathered that.”
“Looks to me,” Jango cut in, “as though you could use some help.”
Ben frowned at that, but he kept his gaze fixed to Myles’ own when he answered. “I’ve got things under control, thank you.”
Myles snorted, turning his head to glance at Jango. “What are the chances that I end up with that scarred into my skin?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his words despite himself.
That earned him a scowl from Ben. “I do,” he snapped. He gestured to the squad of commandos on the ground. “I was handling myself just fine.”
That, Myles had to admit, was true. But it was a moment’s slip and that could change the course of a fight like that, and the odds hadn’t been in Ben’s favor. “If you want,” Myles suggested, reaching for the latch on his chest plate. “I can strip and we can check whether or not you actually have things under control,” he suggested.
He wasn’t entirely serious, but he didn’t think Ben would call his bluff.
Ben narrowed his eyes, clearly considering pushing the issue, but just as Myles had expected Ben just shook his head. “That’s not necessary,” he finally grit out, clearly displeased. His gaze darted to the street again. “Look, I have a friend that’s expecting me. As much of a pleasure as it is to meet you, now’s not exactly a good time for a soulmate.”
Jango snorted. “Seems like a particularly good time for a soulmate. You need help and who better to help you than someone soul bound to you.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at Jango. “I appreciate the offer. I don’t need help.”
Jango froze, and his next words came out slow and pointed. “Name’s Jaster by the way.”
Myles blinked, confused for a moment before it dawned him. Jango had always been far more sensitive to lies appearing on his skin than Myles was. Jango was already moving towards Ben, every step a prowl. Ben backed up, but all that did was pin him to the wall when Jango reached him, hands immediately going to Ben’s shirt and rucking it up to get a look at his skin.
Jango’s breath catching was loud enough that the mics in his helmet picked it up. “Ten million to one.” Jango whispered. “It’s all three of us.”
Ben looked stunned, eyes wide and staring up into Jango’s vizor as though completely blindsided.
“You’ve got to be joking.” Ben sounded almost desperate for Jango to be joking.
“Never been more serious in my life, Ben’ika.” Myles felt a moment of despair, because Jango didn’t do anything halfway and if he was already using small little endearments than they were both well and truly karked.
“Look, Ben, whatever your real name is,” Myles interrupted. “You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.” He glanced at Ben’s now exposed ribs. “Probably a decent meal or two. Just… come home with us. We’ll find your friend and bring them along so that they can get some sleep and food as well. We can figure out what to do from there.”
Ben looked torn, glancing down and at his own ribs as though trying to decide. Myles could see the exhaustion heavy in his eyes, a quiet want to be able to accept an offer of sleep and food and temporary safety. Whatever was going on Ben had been fighting and running for a while.
“You can’t hurt them,” Ben said finally. “My friend.”
Myles raised an eyebrow at that. That was… an interesting demand. But then, if Ben had really been on the run from kyr’tsad a little bit of healthy paranoia was probably warranted.
“On my life,” Myles promised. “We won’t hurt them unless in self-defense.”
Ben let out an exhausted huff. “Trust me, she’s not exactly the violent type.”
Ah, a real New Mandalorian then. “Then we shouldn’t have a problem,” Jango said, tone a little wry.
Ben’s lips twisted in not-quite amusement. “I’m not so sure about that.” He glanced between the two of them, and Myles noted that Jango still had Ben pinned to the wall and didn’t look inclined to be moving. Jango was a possessive, protective bastard when it came to things that were ‘his’. He always had been, but it’d gotten worse after Galidraan. Ben carried Jango’s own lie on his skin, he was mostly definitely theirs. “You never did give me your names, that feels like an important thing to know about my soulmates.”
“Jango,” Jango answered promptly, and then tilted his head to indicated Myles. “And that’d be my riduur, Myles.”
Ben froze. “Fett?”
“That’d be right,” Jango said easily. “Now, let’s go find your friend and get you home.”
“I… This isn’t a good idea,” Ben’s words came out almost strangled. “I… We should forget this whole thing.”
“Jango’s not exactly the type to just let his soulmate get hunted by kyr’tsad and do nothing about it,” Myles said, and he let his voice be almost gentle. “It’s a little too late to forget this whole thing.”
Ben’s gaze darted to the street again and Jango not so subtly, placed his hands on either side of Ben’s body. “Look, we’re not going to force anything, but let us make sure you’re actually safe before we let you go.”
Myles could hear the strain in Jango’s voice at the last words.
The last thing Jango wanted would be to let Ben go.
“You swear not to hurt her?” Ben repeated, voice almost desperate.
Myles was starting to think they were really not going to like whoever Ben’s companion was. “We won’t touch her,” Jango promised.
Ben bit his lip, but finally nodded.
Almost as though making the decision had stripped him of his remaining energy, Ben slumped back against the wall. “This is such a bad idea,” he muttered.
That, Myles found, he was starting to agree with when Ben’s companion ended up being Satine Kryze of all people.
His teeth hurt a little from how tightly he clenched his jaw. “A promise is a promise,” he said finally, noting how tense Ben was. “We won’t touch her.”
Ben’s shoulders lost some of their tension. Kryze’s didn’t. “Ben,” she hissed. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that I can only take down so many kyr’tsad without help,” Ben said back, voice quiet, though in no way quiet enough for Myles and Jango not to hear. “They promised not to hurt you.”
Kryze’s jaw clenched. “And you just believed them? Since when have you been naive?”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Since I discover that they’re my soulmates and I’d know if they were lying.”
“Look,” Jango interrupted. “How about you finish this argument at home and not here where kyr’tsad could just stumble over us.”
Kryze looked far from pleased, but she finally agreed, voice curt and displeased.
Myles sighed, turning on the helmet comms and the mics on his helmet off. “You know we don’t have to do this, Jango,” he said quietly.
“You know we do,” Jango countered quickly. “I’m not leaving our soulmate to be hunted by kyr’tsad, even if he is New Mandalorian.”
“You just liked watching him take down commandos twice his size,” Myles teased.
Jango snorted and Myles noted that Ben was watching them carefully, clearly picking up that they were communicating with each other. “You’d be lying if you said you didn’t.”
It was true, and since it was impossible to lie to Jango without Jango knowing he didn’t bother. “Attraction doesn’t mean taking someone into our home.”
Jango went silent and Myles wondered if Jango had actually turned off his comms, but then Jango finally responded.
“He’s ours, Myles. Ours.”
Myles was hit by another wave of concern. “He’s skittish as it is, Jan’ika,” he warned. “I don’t think he’s at the point where we can call him ours.”
He could almost picture the way Jango’s jaw was undoubtedly clenching at that. Jango was many things, stubborn just happened to be at the top of the list, right below possessive.
It didn’t take long to reach the compound and Myles was almost surprised that Ben and Kryze actually entered; both looked like they were about to make a run for it at any second.
“This is such a bad idea, Ben,” Kryze hissed.
“You haven’t had any better ones,” responded Ben, and that was clearly all he had to say on the matter because he didn’t respond to her next angry whisper.
Despite himself Myles smirked.
Jango led them through the compound, taking side hallways and roundabout paths to ensure that they weren’t spotted.
Jango was Jango, so it wasn’t like anyone would stop them, but there would definitely be questions if Kryze was spotted.
Myles didn’t want to imagine what sort of rumors that would start.
Though… It was, he had to admit, an interesting opportunity.
The Haat’ade didn’t want to be fighting with the New Mandalorians. It was a political war that, with the Republic involved, they couldn’t win.
There was more than one planet out there that recognized two different leaders. While it itched at Myles to consider it—Mand’alor was the sole ruler after all—if they could get the Republic to acknowledge Mandalore as having two legitimate sects, than half this war would be over. Kryze could lead her New Mandalorians, and Jango could lead the Haat’ade without having to worry about what policies Kryze would try to force on them.
Kyr’tsad would be a problem, of course they would. But even many of them, if they realized that there was an option that allowed them their armor and their weapons would follow Jango as well.
Then there would only be the most fanatic of kyr’tsad to deal with.
Perhaps that could be a bargaining chip. The Haat’ade would handle kyr’tsad if the New Mandalorians agreed to a split sovereignty.
He was disrupted from his half-formed plans by reaching their set of rooms and Jango ushering the two New Mandalorians in.
“Just… sit down, relax. Myles will find a medkit and check you both over, while I find some food. You can use the fresher, whatever you need just…” Jango waved with his hands to indicate that they could do whatever they wanted.
“Thank you,” Ben said quietly. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Have to?” Jango repeated. “No. Would do anything different?” Jango scoffed. “Not a chance.”
A complicated look crossed Ben’s face. Ben turned towards him the moment Jango disappeared out the door in search of food. “He… He knows this isn’t… He knows, right?”
Myles sighed, because that was a loaded question. “Let’s just get you and Kryze in better shape,” he said instead of answering the question.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Kryze announced, clearly having decided that if they were here she’d take full advantage of it.
“Go ahead,” Myles told her, though she was already headed towards the fresher as he said it.
Ben just stood there in the middle of the room looking nervous. Myles left him there, moving to the closet to find their medkit.
“Come on,” Myles said, sitting on the couch. “Let me check you over.”
“I’m fine.”
Myles just raised an eyebrow at that, pointedly pressing his hand against his ribs, though he had no idea where the lie had actually appeared.
Ben sighed, but came and sat down. “So, where are you injured?”
“I’m—“
“I willi strip off my armor so I can spot your every lie and then ask you one body part at a time to figure out where you’re injured if you make me,” Myles warned.
That earned him a scowl. “Minor concussion, two broken ribs, a blaster burn on my left arm, a few scrapes, and a possible infection on a leg wound.”
“Infection?” Myles pressed. It was a split between that and the broken ribs which was most urgent to take a look at.
Ben nodded. “It’s… it’s why we came into the city. I needed medicine and… I didn’t want to risk it getting worse. Satine can’t exactly protect herself.”
Myles narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t say anything. “Let me see it.”
Ben obediently rolled his pants up, struggling a little as he got to his thigh. There was a bandage tied around his leg and Myles quickly untied it. The wound was a long gash, like someone had gotten Ben with a vibroknife. It looked like it had been cleaned and tended, but there was clear signs of infection and the skin around the wound was warmer to the touch than was natural.
Some bacta and some antibiotics and Ben would undoubtedly be good to go.
“We’ll have you shower and then get some bacta on it,” Myles decided. “Let me see the rest of it.”
Ben obediently let Myles check the rest of his injuries. The gash on his leg and the broken ribs, which would need a bacta injection, were indeed the worst of it. That and the worryingly visible ribs.
“I’ve never been a good eater,” Ben said when he spotted Myles scowling. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Makes it sound like it’s worse than it looks, actually.”
Ben frowned. “I’m just saying, this isn’t abnormal.”
“I’m just saying,” Myles mimicked, “that’s not a good thing.”
Ben gave him an exasperated sigh. “You’re just like this aren’t you?”
“Stubborn and always right?” Myles asked. “Yes, yes I am.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Good to know for future reference.”
Myles felt his stomach twist at that. Future reference. He knew Ben didn’t mean it that way, but could Myles be blamed for hoping, for wishing, he did?
He wasn’t as possessive as Jango, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t possessive at all. He did want Ben. Ben was his soulmate; that had to mean something.
It had meant enough that they’d let Satine Kryze of all people into their home.
Myles sighed, sitting back. “Want to tell me your real name?” he asked.
“Maybe Ben’s a nickname,” Ben pointed out.
Myles rolled his eyes. “Nicknames wouldn’t count as a lie, you di’kut. You don’t consider Ben your name, that’s why it’s on my skin.”
Ben shifted, glancing towards the shower where Kryze still was. “Look, I don’t think you want to know who I am,” he said finally. “You’ll be better off with me disappearing.”
“You don’t know us very well,” Myles said, lip quirking up in a reluctant smile. “Jango’s willing to look past the past if that ensures him a future.”
Ben glanced to the door where Jango had disappeared, a strange expression crossing his face.
“He’s… intense.”
Myles snorted. “You’ve only seen the tip of it.”
Ben raised an eyebrow at that. “He often pin people to walls while looking at them as though he wants to dominate them?”
A laugh caught in Myles’ throat and he let out an undignified snort. “Admittedly, I tend to prefer pinning him to walls.” He let his gaze drift over Ben, considering him from Jango’s perspective. “But yes, that’s in character for him.”
“Great,” Ben muttered, and Myles couldn’t quite decide which emotion lurked behind the word.
His thoughts were derailed by Kryze exiting the fresher, dressed in cleaner—though still not entirely clean—clothes.
“Ben, I need—“
“Ben’s taking a shower,” Myles interrupted before Kryze could finish demanding anything. “Do you need medical treatment?”
“She’s got a few minor injuries,” Ben said quickly.
“Go shower, Ben,” Myles told him, reaching for the medkit again. “And get over here, Kryze.”
Kryze looked incredibly displeased to being bossed around, but Myles could care less.
Ben escaped into the fresher, grabbing his sack and taking it with him. “Jango will bring you clothes,” Myles called after him. “No point in dressing in dirty clothes.”
Kryze scowled at that, hands running over her shirt pointedly.
She wasn’t his soulmate. She wasn’t his problem.
“He looks good in your clothes,” Myles acknowledged, lounging in his chair in a way he knew Jango liked to think of as ‘invitation’.
Sure enough Jango prowled across the room, settling himself on Myles’ lap, hands on Myles’ shoulders. “He did, didn’t he?”
Ben and Kryze were settled down in the room across the hall that was kept for the times when Silas was visiting, and now Jango and he were alone to discuss things.
“You’re going to scare him off, though,” Myles said, a little pointedly. “If you keep on with the…” he waved a hand, encompassing Jango’s general behavior.
“He should know what he’s getting into,” Jango said, shrugging dismissively.
“Or,” Myles suggested, “we can help him slowly adjust to us, so he’s less likely to run away.”
Jango huffed at that, leaning down and kissing Myles in a way that told Myles that Jango realized he was right but was in no hurry to admit it.
Myles slowed the kiss, appreciating the way that Jango let him take control over it.
Jango pulled back eventually, and Myles could see some of the tension had left his frame. “Think we can get him to stay?”
Myles smiled, slow and sure as he pulled Jango back down for yet another kiss. “Jango, I think you’d be enough to make anyone stay.”
The sound Jango made into the kiss was pure want and need, and Jango’s fingers dug into his shoulder blades.
Myles smiled into the kiss, oh, there was nothing better than pressing Jango’s buttons, making him come undone with words and touch.
There was a shocked oh from the door and Myles pulled back, glancing over Jango’s shoulder to see Ben standing there with wide eyes, a datapad in hand.
“I’m sorry,” Ben blurted. “I just came to return this.” He waved the datapad in the air. “Jango let me get caught up with what was going on out there.”
Ben was inching backwards, face flushed with embarrassment, and Myles could admit that there was something rather endearing about it.
“Might as well come in,” Jango said, voice carefully neutral as he shifted so that he was positioned a little less provocatively on the armrest of the chair rather than on Myles. “We should probably talk, all three of us.”
“I, uh, don’t know about that. You seem busy.”
Jango snorted. “Myles and I can do that whenever we want, Ben’ika.”
“And we do,” Myles interrupted.
“You’re hardly interrupting,” Jango finished.
Ben stepped tentatively into the room, his gaze darting to everywhere but them. Kriff, Ben was young, Myles realized. Sure, he had to be almost 20, but that still put him over a decade younger than Myles and just under that for Jango.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“What else?” Myles asked dryly. “You, our bond, where we go from here.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed a little. “Why do we have to go anywhere from here?”
“Because going nowhere doesn’t do anyone any good,” Jango said reasonably.
Ben didn’t seem to have a retort for that, because he didn’t answer, instead slipping further into the room, still radiating awkwardness.
“Thank you,” he said finally. “For letting Satine and I stay here tonight. We can be out of here tomorrow.”
“That’s not necessary,” Jango said immediately, moving off the chair and towards Ben. Myles stayed where he was, deciding it would be best to not overwhelm Ben with both of them. Jango could handle this part for them both. “You’re safe here. Kyr’tsad certainly wouldn’t think to look for you here.”
Ben shifted uncomfortably. “Satine is looking for allies. We have to keep moving.”
“And she doesn’t think she can find some here?”
The look Ben gave them was… Myles frowned. It was almost sad.
“She thinks she might.”
“You don’t.”
Ben looked away and when he spoke Myles could only just hear him. “You don’t deserve that,” he said quietly.
It was not a condemnation, Myles realized after a moment, it was meant as a kindness.
“You don’t agree with her.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
Myles frowned, pushing himself to his feet and moving towards Ben.
Jango met his gaze, shifting in unison to circle around Ben as Myles moved forward.
Ben stepped back, looking alarmed, running right into Jango.
“Why are you helping her?” Myles asked quietly. “You don’t believe in her cause, do you?”
Ben licked his lips and Myles could see he was trying to consider what he could say that wouldn’t leave a scar on Myles’ skin.
“I believe in peace,” he said finally.
True, Myles decided. “But you don’t believe in her.”
Ben blanched. “No, that’s not true. She’s—“ he cut himself off. “She wants what’s best for Mandalore.”
Myles didn’t need to look to know the scar was forming as the words escaped his mouth.
“Try again.”
Ben swallowed, eyes darting away. “I love her.”
Behind Ben, Jango’s breath escaped in a hiss.
Myles narrowed his eyes. He’d need to check to see if that was true, but he worried that it just might be. He prayed to the Manda it wasn’t.
“And that’s why you support her?”
Ben didn’t answer this time.
“No,” Myles concluded.
“Stop,” Ben whispered. “You don’t want the answers you’ll find if you keep pushing.”
Myles met Jango’s eyes over Ben’s shoulder and was unsurprised to see the way Jango’s eyes narrowed. “Ben,” Jango murmured. “Do you need me to spell it out for you.” There was a shift of movement and Myles looked down to see that Jango’s hands were slipping under Ben’s shirt.
Ben let out a strange, garbled noise as Jango started drawing the shirt up.
“Jango,” Ben gasped. “What are you—“
“I’m proving my point,” Jango said easily.
Ben didn’t protest again, and Myles watched his face carefully, looking for further protest as Jango pulled the shirt up and over Ben’s head.
“There we go,” Jango murmured, fingers tracing over the one lie Jango had given, when he’d given Ben Jaster’s name instead of his own. “This is the only mark I ever want to leave on you, Ben.”
“You don’t mean that,” Ben whispered.
Myles stepped back a little, watching as Jango took complete control over the situation.
It was a very pretty picture, Myles had to admit, Ben pressed back against Jango, head tilted back against Jango’s shoulder in a movement that was both helpless and unconsciously attractive. Jango’s hands were pressed against Ben’s ribs, fingers still tracing the scar on Ben’s skin.
“Is it a scar?” Jango asked.
Ben let out a strange sound. “No.”
“Ben, I want you,” Jango whispered. “I want you in our bed, I want you in our life, I want you in any and every way we can get you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I want to,” Jango whispered. “I want to know every single thing about you, I want to dig into your heart and lay out your every dream, I want to crawl into your mind and unravel your every thought, I want to slip into your skin and know your every pleasure. Nothing will change that.”
It was such a dangerous promise, Myles couldn’t help but think, a reckless one.
But… Jango didn’t let go. Jango didn’t know how. He’d claimed Ben, and for Jango that was it.
Ben let out another whimper, eyes falling closed and mouth parting.
Myles had to take a careful breath, because pressed against Jango the way he was, it looked like Ben was in the midst of pleasure. But then, those promises from Jango’s lip was worth any pleasure Myles could think of.
Jango looked up, eyes shining brilliantly, as he met Myles’s gaze and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“I can’t promise all of those things,” Myles murmured. He knew how dangerous it would be now, to leave a scar on Ben’s skin. How it would undo everything Jango had done. “But I can tell you I want you. I can tell you that I want to know you. That if you choose it here, I’ll make space for you with Jango and I, I’ll build the rest of our lives with a place for you in it.”
Ben’s eyes flickered open, and he looked almost intoxicated, more so than Myles would have expected. As though their sincerity was a drug.
“Force,” he whispered. Myles raised an eyebrow at the expression. “You’re going to hate me.”
“Just tell us the truth, Ben,” Myles told him. “We’ll take care of you.”
Ben let out a snort. “You know, in certain situations those words are meant as a threat.”
“Not here.”
Ben swallowed, and Myles knew that whatever followed next would be the complete and utter truth.
Ben opened his mouth, and for a moment it was as though the world stopped turning. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. And I’m a Jedi.”