Chapter Text
On the battlefield, Obi-wan had the stamina to last for hours, but in the privacy of his bunk, he felt impatient and lightheaded so quickly. He was on his knees–his favourite position when playing with himself–with a hand between his legs, holding onto the base of his dildo, trying to keep a fast rhythm while maintaining the angle that hit all the right parts inside him.
His knees slipped in the damp sheets, and he was spread wider, making him sink further down on his toy. Kriff. His orgasm was so close, but he didn’t want to chase it just yet. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted the drawn-out, muscle-deep satisfaction of extended sex. He wanted the constant friction, the strain of pushing himself just that bit too far. Of finally satisfying his instincts.
There wasn’t time for it, these days. His men often worried over the dark circles under his eyes, assuming that flimsiwork or nightmares were keeping him up. That was part of it. But these urges were worsening, and more and more, he was up late trying to satisfy them. He had never hated being Stewjoni before, but it was starting to get to him.
He rolled his hips and ground down, feeling the fake head pushing against his g-spot. He was so close, if only he could–
His comm chimed.
Obi-Wan swore and fumbled for it. He made sure it was set to audio-only before answering. “General Kenobi speaking.”
“Sir.” It was Cody. He paused, before he continued. “Are you alright? You sound out of breath.”
“I’m fine, I was just doing some katas in my room.” He sat down, back against the wall. It shifted the toy deeper inside him, nudging against his g-spot again, and he bit back a gasp. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding down on the plastic cock as he spoke. The little bursts of pleasure were maddening. “Wh-what’s the situation, Commander?”
“The council wanted to meet with you about our latest mission.”
“Now?”
“Yes, sir. At your soonest convenience.”
Obi-Wan groaned in frustration, and then groaned again when his cunt spasmed and clenched around the toy inside him. This dildo was his favourite because it was the fattest and longest one in his collection, and it always felt so beautifully big inside him.
“Sir?” The concern was back in Cody’s voice.
“Ignore me, Commander. I’m not myself. I think these back-to-back missions are getting to me.”
“I’ve noticed. Is there anything I can do?”
“It’s kind of you to ask, but no. I’ll be alright.” There was nothing any of them could do about their tireless missions. And there was no way Obi-Wan was going to tell him about this part of his biology, about how much the lack of sex was getting to him. “Tell the Council I’ll be down soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Obi-Wan disconnected the call. He threw his comm to the other side of his bed, and selfishly put one hand on the mattress, bracing himself, and bounced on his dildo for a few blissful extra minutes. With his other hand, he fisted his cock. He didn’t have time to draw this out. The pleasure built rapidly, almost too fast for him to appreciate it, and then he was slamming the dildo all the way inside him and cumming hard.
“Fuck,” he mumbled. He was sweaty and trembling slightly, slick dribbling down his thighs, and he wanted nothing more than to roll onto his back and keep pumping the toy into his cunt. It felt like the orgasm barely took the edge off. His skin tingled all over, and his pussy throbbing between his legs, hungry for more.
He didn’t have time for more, though. The Council was waiting for him.
It took a lot of willpower to roll off the bed and hobble into his tiny fresher to clean himself and his toy. There would be time to satisfy himself, he told himself. Later.
Later never came.
Obi-Wan had thought the war keeping him from sex was hard but manageable. And then their latest mission saw the 212th stationed on a back-water planet with nothing but fabric tents to keep them from the elements--from each other.
He had to leave his toys on the ship. There was no door to separate him from the men, and the thought of one of them walking in on him with his leggings shucked down to his knees, dildo buried deep inside him, made him feel hot all over with embarrassment.
The troops were too close to risk it, even if Obi-Wan’s longing was growing worse by the day. A longing only made worse by the proximity of the men within the camp.
All over the camp, he could see troopers stripped down to their blacks, sweaty from the day's work. As the mission wore on and the sun grew hotter above them, more and more men began to discard their blacks. Seeing so much muscled skin on display… it was only making his hunger worse.
The proximity was getting to his men too.
"--is so flexible that you could put both ankles around his ears and he wouldn’t break a sweat.”
"I can think of a few different ways to get him sweaty.”
Obi-Wan was frozen near the entrance to his tent. He was about to head out, but stopped. He didn’t want to embarrass the men by interrupting what sounded like a private conversation.
"Don't," someone groaned. Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure who the voices belonged to without getting closer. "I can't stop thinking about yesterday's battle. All those flips and high kicks…I already spent last night stripping my cock to the memories.”
"Yeah, you and everyone else I'm bunking with."
There was a round of laughter and commiserating slaps on the back. "Can hardly blame us, can you? The Commander was on our ass about ogling him, but I saw him peaking too. The way he looks with half his robes falling off…"
"I'd like to see him without any robes."
If he had any doubt about who they were talking about, it was gone now. Some of his robes had been tattered in the fight yesterday and he'd been forced to shed them or risk letting the fabric get tangled in the thorny scrubland. He hadn't thought anyone noticed, let alone cared.
To think his men were admiring him, the same way he admired them… He imagined his men lying in rows in the dark, hands shoved into their pants, blankets barely muffling the slick noises of their wet cocks fucking into their fists, only to come all over their stomachs at fantasies of him...
Obi-Wan pressed his thighs together, and kept perfectly still until the men outside his tent had moved on. Their words lingered in his mind. Force, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get these fantasies out of his head.
That night, he got off to thoughts of his men. He clamped one hand over his mouth to muffle his cries, and hope that no one outside his tent could hear the squelch of his fingers fucking in and out of his pussy.
He imagined a stray trooper hearing and following those sounds to his tent. Imagined them climbing into his bunk and replacing his fingers with their cock. Imagined them groaning on top of him, sweat beading over dark muscles. Imagined them fucking him until he came and then not even pausing, fucking him right into a second spine-melting orgasm.
It was that thought--of a trooper holding him down and fucking him into oversensitivity--that made Obi-Wan come with a muffled shout.
He felt increasingly shaky and cotton-headed all the time, as well as deeply embarrassed by how much his urges were affecting him. What kind of Stewjonian couldn’t satisfy themselves? What person was so untethered by a lack of sex? It was maddening.
"Sir?" Cody asked.
Obi-Wan jumped, wrenching his eyes away from the camper bed squashed into the corner. They only used it to crash when one of them was up late working, but it conjured up thoughts of tumbling into bed together, yanking at each other's clothes and--
"Apologies," Obi-Wan said, straightening his tabards. Force, he had forgotten they were in the middle of a meeting. "Where were we?"
Half a dozen concerned eyes peered back at him. Obi-Wan swallowed. Being stared at so closely shouldn't make him feel so flushed, but it made him think of his men watching him in other situations. His gaze flicked back to that tempting little camp bed in the corner.
Tangled sheets. The rhythmic squeaking of the rusted springs. The eyes of a dozen men, watching him squirm and moan as Cody drove into him–
"You look red, sir," Gregor said. "You're not coming down with something, are you?"
Obi-Wan forcibly shoved down the unsavory thoughts. "I'm fine, really. I was just… distracted. Shall we continue?"
Obi-Wan only had enough time to force-push the closest squad of troopers behind a rocky outcropping before the bomb detonated.
He immediately regretted it. It wasn’t the standard grenade he had been expecting; it was a smoke bomb. Gas erupted in great green plumes around him, and he collapsed to his knees, hacking up coughs.
“General!” Cody’s cry on the comms dragged him back to reality. “Does anyone have a clear read on the General?”
“I can hear you, Commander,” Obi-Wan managed, taking careful, shallow breaths. “I’m—I’m okay.”
“Ghost, come in. I want a read on the gas.” Cody didn’t scold him for shoving the people with filtered helmets out of the way. Now was not the time for it.
“Don’t worry about the gas, Commander,” Obi-Wan said. “It won’t affect me.”
“Sir?” Cody’s voice was tight with worry.
“I’m Stewjoni. It gives me quite a few biological quirks, including a tough constitution.”
“Stewjoni?”
Obi-Wan froze at the new voice. Through the green smog glowed a red saber. Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, reaching for his belt—only to freeze when his hand came up empty.
A tall figure emerged from the smoke. The darksider was humanoid, wrapped in a long trench coat, and easily two heads taller than Obi-Wan.
“You’re not the first Stewjoni I’ve met,” he said, “though you are the first one not in chains.” He grinned, dark with promise. “I’ll change that soon enough.”
Obi-Wan slowly backed up. He didn’t want to move too quickly and provoke an attack, but he couldn’t stay there, unarmed against a sith.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Obi-Wan said with a winning smile. “May I trouble you for a name?”
“You can call me Master or Sir, Stewjoni.”
“Actually, I’m the Master in this situation. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
The darksider strode forward, saber swinging in wide arches by his side. It set Obi-Wan’s teeth on edge. He didn’t have his own lightsaber to defend with, and his men were within hearing range, close enough to be attacked by the darksider.
“I can’t wait to get you back to my ship and strip you out of those robes," the darksider said.
Obi-Wan stumbled on his next step. The darksider took the opportunity to lunge forward. Obi-Wan dodged to the left, but the saber skid against his shoulder, cutting through his tunic. The sleeve was severed. One pale shoulder and a dusty pink nipple were exposed.
"There we go," said the darksider, eyes on Obi-Wan’s chest. "Such a pretty pink. I'm gonna aim for your leggings next."
"You're disgusting."
"You're going to be changing your tune once I'm inside you. You're Stewjoni, after all. You were built to take cock."
“Shut your mouth,” Obi-Wan snapped.
“I thought you flirted with every enemy you came across? That’s what the holonet says. Are you going to open your legs for me too?”
“I’d rather you strike me dead,” Obi-Wan gritted out through his teeth
“Stewjonians require sex. It’s a biological need. There’s no alternative, no other remedy that your little pussy will accept.” The darksider’s gaze flicked to the side. “Oh, I get it. You’re giving yourself up to the clones.”
Obi-Wan glanced to the side and his blood ran cold. Half of Ghost Squad was advancing up the hill, making a beeline for them. Cody’s doing, no doubt.
Before he could yell at them to retreat, the darksider jumped down the hill in a single leap, landing beside Wooley. “How’s he taste, clone?”
Wooley jerked his gun up. The darksider used the force to bat it away and dragged Wooley forward. His saber buzzed at his throat.
The darksider asked again, “How does his pussy taste, clone?” His saber got a fraction closer, beginning to melt Wooley's pauldron. "What does it feel like? I bet he's tight."
“You motherfucker,” Wooley hissed, and elbowed the darksider in the nose. He pinwheeled backward with a grunt, saber flying out of his hand.
Ghost Squad fired at the darksider. He deflected their blastfire with the force, scrambling for his saber–but Obi-Wan snatched it up using the force before he could reach it. The blade buzzed in his hand. Before Obi-Wan could strike, the darkside fumbled for his trenchcoat and lobbed a grenade at Ghost Squad.
Obi-Wan hurled it back with the force, but it still detonated too close to his men, a blinding flash-bang that threw them all back.
Obi-Wan twisted and only just managed to land on his feet. When he looked back, the darksider was gone.
The man’s words lingered. Obi-Wan had heard filth like it before, but to hear it now, after weeks of torment, living in such close proximity to his men with lust like a burning itch beneath his skin…
Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if the darksider was right.
During the post-mission debrief, Ghost Squad gathered in the Command Tent. Their armor was still streaked with dirt and blood, but none of them left to go shower. They hovered around Obi-Wan, eyes wide and hands twitching near their holsters. Only Cody’s stern gaze kept them from breaching his personal bubble.
Boil broke the nervous silence. “What was he talking about, General?”
Obi-Wan grimaced. “How much did you hear?”
Silence answered him. Ah, Obi-Wan thought. All of it, then.
He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure what to tell them. He had never envisioned them knowing—not outside of his fantasies, anyway.
“Is it true?” Bones asked.
“You’re one of my medics, is my anatomy really so shocking?”
“Anatomy? No. But he said it was a biological need for Stewjoni. I’ve seen a lot of people get sick from lack of sun or touch. We have measures on board specifically to combat that, so every person gets their needs met. This isn’t any different.”
Obi-Wan smiled tightly. “I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need for it. I can take care of myself, so to speak.”
“He said that there was no alternative,” Bones said. “How much of that was banthashit, sir?”
Obi-Wan wet his lips. He felt pinned under the medic’s gaze. The man could catch any lie quicker than Obi-Wan could say it. “He was exaggerating in order to disrespect me. I won’t die or get sick from being abstinent.” He shifted his weight, and Bones’s eyes narrowed. “But there was some truth to what he said. There are… side-effects.”
The silence was back, thicker than ever.
“We’re gonna need to do something about that, sir,” Bones said after a pause. “If it’s affecting your health, we need to find a better solution.”
“It’s really not that bad. I can cope–”
“We don’t want you to have to cope, sir,” Waxer interrupted, yanking his bucket off. “This is clearly affecting you.”
“Perhaps, but it’s not too—“
“You’ve been miserable lately, sir,” Cody cut in. “I thought it was the usual stress of war. But now that I think about it, we’ve been fighting back-to-back campaigns, deep in the outer rim. Outside of a few natborn Navy officers, there hasn’t been any other jedi or natborns around. There’s been no one to help you with this.” Obi-Wan felt like Cody was looking right through him. “We’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry for that, sir.”
Obi-Wan startled. “Neglecting me? This isn’t anyone’s responsibility, Cody. It’s simply a product of my own biology. One that I need to deal with.”
“Except that you haven’t been dealing with it,” Bones cut in. “Not in a way that is actually working.”
“We’ll take care of you,” Cody said.
“Now hang on.” Obi-Wan held his hands up. The huddle of troopers seemed keyed up now, the way they only were right before missions. “What do you mean, ‘take care of me?’”
“You need sex, General,” Bones said flatly. “It’s a biological drive, and your body is suffering without it. We’ll take care of you and make sure you’re never neglected again.”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’m your superior officer. I can’t take advantage of–”
“Do you think I would let my men be taken advantage of?” Cody asked.
“No, of course not. But I can’t ask this of you.”
“You’re not asking. It’ll be volunteers only.”
Obi-Wan shook his head again, bewildered by this entire conversation. When he first saw the darksider on the battlefield, he had no idea it would lead to this conversation. “I suppose that if you could find someone who would be interested in assisting me with my, uh, situation, then we could talk about this. But until that happens, this is a moot point.” The tension was broken by sudden laughter from the troopers. Obi-Wan blinked. “Did I say something amusing?”
“Sir,” Gearshift said, cocking his head like he thought Obi-Wan was especially dense, “once word gets out that you’re open to knocking boots, there’s going to be a line outside your door that’s so long it wraps around the ship. Twice.”
Crys raised his hand. “Ghost gets to go first, right?” Trapper thumped him over the head. Crys yelped. “What? Only if the General agrees, of course!”
“You… truly want to?” Obi-Wan asked. “Even after hearing the vile things the darksider was saying about my body?”
“That darksider was a bastard,” Boil said with a scowl. His brothers nodded and murmured their agreement. “He should’ve died for his disrespect. But sir… you’re hotter than the force-damned sun, and hearing about your body in explicit detail was no hardship.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say.
“Unless this isn’t something you want to do," Waxer said. His brothers turned towards him, and he shrugged. “What? We need to make sure the General’s not being pressured into anything either. What if he’s not attracted to us?”
Obi-Wan coughed. “Ah, that certainly won’t be an issue.”
“What?”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “You’re all incredibly attractive, and my biology gives me urges that get stronger when I can’t satisfy them, and… and truthfully, I’ve seen your loyalty and your bravery and your strength, and I’ve come to care for you all.”
Waxer was staring at him, wide-eyed. “So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” Obi-Wan said, and laughed at the sudden enthusiastic cheer that echoed through the tent and out into the night.