Chapter Text
Coruscant was a bustling city as ever, huge and imposing and filled with mostly poor folk who couldn’t reliably get enough Vitamin D (or their nearest pan-galactic species equivalent) to stop themselves from breaking their bones at the drop of a cloak. There were a few rich senators, but who cared about those? Much more interesting were the warrior-scholar Jedi and the warrior-politician Sith.
Two peoples, entirely unalike in dignity,
In dark Coruscant where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge—yada yada yada.
Every schoolchild knew about the Jedi and the Sith. Mostly, they knew to stay far, far away if they cared for bodily autonomy, retaining their limbs, and keeping their favorite local businesses standing. Dex’s Diner had been a casualty of the last little spat. It had been targeted for being a favorite of the Jedi’s Grandmaster’s lineage, and many people still mourned the loss of their Rodian Flatbreads. No one blamed them though, there were just some things you didn’t come back from.
That being said, when a few cute little Jedi knights were walking one way, and a few menacing little Sith apprentices were coming the other, everyone knew to scram.
“Do you wave your lightsaber at me?” One Jedi human yelled.
“You’re just jealous you don’t as good a lightsaber as mine!” A Sith nautolan yelled back.
A few yards away, another human was waving what looked like an unlit lightsaber backwards, but surely wasn’t, and a togruta was adjusting their pants.
“I’ll wave my lightsaber at you!” A twi’leki Sith woman joined the fray, lifting her miniskirt to reveal a rather imposing strap on. With the metal base lighting up in fun disco ball colors, it was likely imbued with kyber. Everyone stopped and looked at it, suitably impressed.
It didn’t take long from there for the whole thing to devolve into a rather passionate little sixsome, right in the middle of the park. Then a tensome, as a pair of Jedi Masters and a pair of Sith Lords both attempted to intervene, and ended up intervening with each other. And then more, as laypeople were waylaid by the emotional aura in the Force and either became angry and tried to stop them, or became amorous and tried to get in on the action.
There was quite a bit of evidence of their activities by the time anyone with authority arrived. The unlit lightsaber turned out to be some kind of sex toy, and that one park bench it had been welded to was probably going to have to be burned. Despite the protestations of both sides, the only person who was definitely winning was that twi’lek Sith, whose rig worked well enough that a newbie CT on the Coruscant Guard gave it a second look, and a third before being slapped over the head by their CC.
Needless to say, when they had to be physically separated, it became something requiring intervention. When one of the hapless twenty-somethings got off from the restraints all over the senior officers on the scene, the thing got upgraded to a higher severity offense.
Technically, it was because of the biohazard. Realistically, Ponds had them standing in front of Mace Windu, pointing at the troublemakers and incoherent with some mix of acute anger and embarrassment. He hadn’t even cleaned up the spend that had spattered his visor. Mace ended up being the one to give Ponds a handkerchief to wipe it off with while he stared at the groups of young adults in front of him.
“I’m going to be talking to Jedi Grandmaster Yoda and Sith Lord Sidious about this. The next person, Jedi or Sith, who makes my life harder is going to see the wrong side of my lightsaber,” Mace Windu growled at them. “And I swear they will not enjoy it. Am I understood?”
Hapless Knight made a high pitched noise that sounded like he was already getting aroused again, but thankfully one of his peers stopped him from making a mess of Mace’s good rug with his face.
They all filed out after that, professing their understanding. Mace sighed, and called for a page. The Jedi and the Sith were both the worst.
“So, tell me why Yoda is going on about High Chancellor Windu again?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
Ahsoka sighed. “Orgy in the park. The one by the Senate building, no less. I swear. The Guard shut it down before Yoda and Sidious could bring out the fuzzy handcuffs and have a ‘lightsaber battle’ of their own, thank the Force.”
“You never know, there is probably someone who actually wants to see that.”
“You have hidden depths, Kenobi.” Ahsoka teased back. “Too bad you’re keeping your—battle choices to the Jedi for a while. Chancellor’s orders.”
“And since when do we care about orders, my dear?”
“If you get Mace Windu coming after your arse personally for your crazy plans, I’m going to laugh and ask him for pointers. Wouldn’t that be a practical demonstration!” She grinned in a way that showed off how sharp her teeth were. “Besides, you’re acting like how it was with Satine. Who’s scuffed your glass heart this time?”
“Attachments are forbidden, of course.”
“And so are orgies in the park. Besides, unless you haven’t told me something, nothing’s happened. So. Who is it?”
Obi-Wan sighed, a true sign that he’d been taken by someone he shouldn’t be, yet again. “My lady Ventress,, though there has never been someone like that. She’s so confident and skilled, it’s really quite attractive.”
Ahsoka wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t she a Sith? And here I thought you had taste. You should get over her, move on to someone better.”
“Someone Mace Windu won’t discipline me for?” Obi-Wan laughed, clear and long. “My dear, I didn’t realize you cared so much about the rules.”
“Maybe I should invite him to your backside now, if it’d get you to take this seriously,” she grumbled. “A Sith? Really? You know you can do better. You’re from Yoda’s line, there are plenty of people you can choose. Kriff, but even a Mando would be better. Weren’t you carrying on about that CC for a while? Kote? He was a much better influence on getting you to follow the rules.”
“Have you ever seen Ventress with all of her lightsabers though? She’s quite good at Makashi.”
“So she trounced you in a match. Of course she did. ” Ahsoka muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t want to know what the forfeit was. Well, fine. I hope you got it out of your system, because as I heard it you’re not the only one who’s had an eye on her.”
“Oh? You really do bring me the best gifts, my dear.” But Obi-Wan sat up too fast, giving himself away.
“I shouldn’t tell you, you’ll just get yourself killed, or worse, exiled.”
He pouted at her like his face was a weapon. She ignored it, and growled when he tugged at her silka beads. “You aren’t my only source, darling. I will figure it out if you don’t tell me.”
“Gross. Stop flirting at me like I’m a Sith, and I’ll consider it.” Ahsoka stepped backwards, out of tugging range, and set herself to rights. Obi-Wan rearranged his face again, and she sighed. “Fine. I heard that the Sith were hosting a proper party, something about celebrating a marriage to prevent a schism. I didn’t hear the whole thing, but Asajj Ventress would probably be at something as important as that.” She smirked in a way she had definitely not learned from her teacher Plo Koon. Hopefully he wouldn’t be blamed for that.. “She is sort of your aunt, after all.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Has she thrown that in your face yet? That’s pretty kinky, Kenobi. I didn’t know you had it in you—”
Obi-Wan interrupted. “I’m pretty sure you did, actually. And you know she’s two years younger than me—” Then he was tucking and rolling as Ahsoka force-pushed him away. He laughed a bit as Ahsoka went for a second blow.
“You know, you could be in for a really good night! I know you’ve been sulking up here, but they really went all out for this!” Anakin babbled cheerfully as he pulled out the horn jewelry Maul was going to be expected to wear. “Weddings are the best, aren’t they?”
“No.” Maul replied shortly. He was sitting cross legged on the other side of the room, doing his level best to ignore Anakin and meditate. His level best was admittedly, not very good. That might be why Sidious had decided that he wasn’t useful anymore, he decided.
“No? Why not? I remember getting married to my Padmé like it was yesterday. She was so beautiful, you know. The only thing more beautiful than her then is her now, when she’s smiling at Leia or laughing with Luke. Even if it doesn’t start out that way, that’s how you’ll feel too.”
“I won’t,” Maul glared back, before attempting to shut his eyes again. Had Sidious found him such a person to purposefully anger him, or had it just been poor luck?
“Tell me that again a few months after the wedding,” Anakin laughed.
Just then, the door opened. Maul shut his eyes, pretending to be deeper in meditation than he was. He didn’t need to look to know that that was Sidious’s tread, and that his calm night was swiftly coming to a close.
“Skywalker, give us a minute.” Sidious cautioned. There were a few footsteps that must have been Anakin leaving, and then a long moment where Sidious just looked at him. His gaze burned holes in Maul’s closed eyelids. “No, that won’t do,” Sidious muttered, walking around him in a circle. “Get up,” he ordered.
Maul opened his eyes and stood. He bared his teeth back at Sidious, but didn’t speak.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m only doing what’s best for you, my child.” Then Sidious called back out the door. “Skywalker, attend us!”
It was the work of a breath for Skywalker to return, and Maul wondered how far the man had really gone. “Yes, my lord?”
“You know Maul as well as I do.”
“Yes, I remember meeting him when he was young, when he got into Plagueis’s stash when he was looking for teething toys and the old Lord was so apoplectic that he nearly died right there!”
“Yes—”
“And when he had baby lightsaber lessons, and he kept falling out of his flips and crying when he was bruised, until and I told him that he needed to learn how to fall first, so he could fly! And then he did, because he’s such a good boy! Yes he is! Yes, I know Maul very well.”
“Skywalker!” Sidious glared at him. “To your mind, is he ready to be married?”
“I don’t wish to be married,” Maul hissed, and was roundly ignored.
“He’s a little young, but one is never too young for love. I was married at his age and younger, and Padmé is the best thing that ever happened to me. ” Skywalker shrugged.
“Sith marry young, if they are to at all. I’ve arranged it with that concubine, Dooku. Of his apprentices, Ventress has agreed to marry you.”
“Ventress!” Maul muttered.
“Ah, she’s quite something, isn’t she? I heard tales of her skills from my Padmé. She works with Dooku, you know? In the government. There are only good things to be said about her. It will be a good marriage!”
“Yes, she’s rather competent, there are no brighter Sith apprentices than her,” Sidious agreed, not sparing a look at Maul, who he just insulted.
Maul only muttered again, more loudly, “Ventress!”.
Sidious smiled. Thin, but genuine, or pretending to be. “I will consider the matter settled then. Please enjoy the party with her. I’m given to understand that she prefers to wait for the ropes until after she’s given her partner a chance to disobey.”
And with that, Sidious swept from the room.
“He’s not wrong you know,” Anakin pressed the useless jewelry on him. “He might need a break, but you’ll be fine, married to Ventress. She’s not going to cut you in half or anything. Chin up, Maul.”
It was easier to let Anakin do what he was going to do as quickly as possible, so Maul didn’t run away. Anakin would just catch him, and he was going to be spared the embarrassment of being treated like an unruly child. He let his anger build at Sidious, and at Anakin, because that’s what he was supposed to do, right? That’s what a Sith did?
Anakin left eventually, stealing off in the same direction Sidious had gone in, and Maul finished preparing himself. The jewelry he’d left was gaudy and heavy, showpieces rather than anything he could wear on a regular basis. The pulled at his skull uncomfortably. They weren’t even from his intended, or for her. Anakin had told him before he left that he wouldn’t even notice them once Maul was out there having fun, but Maul wasn’t there for fun. Maul was there because he was a Sith. He was going to be married. He had to do what he had to do, until he was strong enough to depose Sidious.
A short while later, Maul stepped into the rooms where the engagement party was being held. He caught sight of Ventress immediately. Unlike the fancy jewelry and formal clothes he’d been stuffed into, Dooku had apparently let her wear whatever she wanted. She looked comfortable in clothing that, in parts of the city, would be considered indecent. He let his rage build at her too.
And then he looked past her and saw—Oh.
Okay, so maybe going to the Sith party hadn’t been the best idea Obi-Wan had ever had. He’d gotten Quinlan to join them, by virtue of literally running into him on the way there. It meant his friend wasn’t exactly dressed properly, and was already tipsy enough to go on and on during the walk there, but Ahsoka was still disapproving and it was nice to have some backup for once.
She hadn’t been enough against it to not sneak past the acolyte door guard with the pair of them, so at least half of the grumpiness was for show. She had slipped away to get some drinks as soon as they got in though, and he quickly lost track of her in the crowd.
That left Quinlan, who was failing to even pretend to be sober. Obi-Wan had to pull him out on the dance floor to prevent him from following through on a proposition to one of the Sith knights. A Gungan, though not one Obi-Wan made a point of recognizing. Besides, based on his reaction he wouldn’t have been very fun anyway, and he didn’t want to listen to Quinlan complain about it later.
The first dance was quite slow, and Obi-Wan used the opportunity to case the place. Exists aplenty, but who knew where they went? Or how many Sith would be on the other end? Droid servers carrying platters of food emerged from some of them, and he noted which ones.
He also caught sight of Ahsoka, though only for a moment. His togruta friend had hidden the long silka strand of a senior padawan and didn’t look especially Jedi. She was clearly talking to someone while holding a drink, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to look past the risqué get up and identify them. Was that Ventress?
He was about to go in for a closer look when the song changed to an upbeat one. Quinlan stumbled into him as he tried to mimic the movements, but was swept away moments later with the rhythm of the song. Obi-Wan tried to focus solely on the dance, but it didn’t seem fun anymore. It seemed risky. Obi-Wan peeled away and tried to make for the corner where Ahsoka had been.
Only he never got there. There were drinks, and he picked up a Coruscant Cosmos just close enough to overhear their conversation.
“—don’t know about them, but your markings are important. And beautiful.” Ventress was saying with the deliberate intonation of the somewhat intoxicated.
And Ahsoka giggled. Obi-Wan almost didn’t realize what he was seeing, watching Ventress scratch gently down Ahsoka’s montral.
That was—what a lucky hypocrite! He down the drink, set down the transpariglass, and readied himself to go and do—something. He couldn’t do anything without revealing that Jedi had gatecrashed the Sith party, couldn’t he? He was just going to have to stick around and make sure that no one got in too far over their heads, and come up with some way to stick it to his line-cousin later. So much for ‘someone better’.
Revenge was not the Jedi way. Somebody needed to be the responsible one.
Somewhere off to his right, a yellow-skinned zabrak was exploding with rage. Sith, who could live with them? Obi-Wan shut out his sense of the man, though he did take note of which hor d’oeuvres were on his plate. That must be a spectacular case of indigestion. He did, however, get another drink. Something appropriately gory for the occasion, that Obi-Wan had a kyber’s chance on Morabund of identifying. It wasn’t bad, mostly alcoholic.
He set down this glass too, and picked up a third. Ahsoka and Ventress were dancing now, bully for them, but he’d lost sight of Quinlan. He sighed, and decided to look around. He couldn’t have gone too far?
He circled around to the back of the room, looking for a better vantage, when he bumped into something. No, someone. An absolutely stunning red-skinned zabrak with uncharacteristic golden eyes, horns dripping with golden mating jewelry.
“You—” the Sith breathed.
Obi-Wan considered his options, and tried to take a step back. He couldn’t go far, not with how the Sith had grabbed hold of his other hand. But he needed a moment before he was going to be able to process—all of that.
And then lips crashed onto his with the skill of a baby bird’s first fall from the nest, and the enthusiasm of tooka at suppertime.
Obi-Wan winced, gentling it with his own well-practiced lips, and the enthusiasm of Mace Windu faced with the Senate’s budgetary committee.
If only the mental image killed more of his enthusiasm. He was blaming the alcohol.
“I do apologize if I’ve offended you with my lips, good sir,” Obi-Wan teased. His mind was racing, and he only resisted wiping his lips by virtue of his hands being full. Who was this Sith, and how had they made it this long in this city without learning how to kiss?
“Not offended—but, you, you’re—” the Sith shook his head, and leaned in for a shorter peck.
“I am good with my lips, quite, yes,” Obi-Wan pasted on a hasty come hither look. Sue him, but the zabrak was kind of cute. Still, had he been found out? “I—”
And then a blue astromech bumped into him and Obi-Wan tripped forward. He could feel it all fall apart as he did, taking just a moment too long to decide whether or not he could risk using the Force, and ended up stumbling into the Sith’s legs, tangling both sets together as they fell against the wall, and simultaneously throwing the rest of his drink in the poor man’s face.
Obi-Wan stumbled away while he was still blinking. There was no coming back from that.
His only stroke of luck was that it didn’t seem like anyone was looking at them, as the dancefloor was full of writhing couples, and throuples, and quads…all varieties, honestly. That poor astromech.
He didn’t see Ahsoka or Ventress, but Quinlan was drinking something purple and bubbly on the edge of the room, and offered Obi-Wan a cup when he turned up at his side.
“That’s the face of someone who’s had some fun,” Quinlan laughed at him. “Too much fun?”
“Neither of us knows what that is.”
“Too true!” Quinlan saluted him with his drink. “That why that zabrak guy looks like he wants to tear you in half?”
“The fun way?” Obi-Wan obediently sipped his drink when Quinlan gestured. He might be immune to the mind-altering effects of alcohol with a little help from the Force, but if he didn’t stop drinking soon he’d still have a hell of a hangover in the morning.
Quinlan seesawed his hand. “60-40 shot of that, maybe. If you don’t want to test it, then we should probably grab Ahsoka and go while the party’s still hot. Don’t want anyone realizing we weren’t supposed to be here.”
“Hmm.” Obi-Wan looked back at that zabrak. He wouldn’t have given himself better than 50-50 odds, which wasn’t bad considering the alcohol. He bolted down the cup in his hand and set it on the table. “In that case, after you.”
They didn’t find Ahsoka on their way out, but she was a big girl and she’d manage. Behind them that yellow zabrak let out another inarticulate screech. Maybe zabraki Sith just didn’t get out much?
Okay, so maybe they hadn’t planned this out well. The Coruscant Guard was out in full force in the area around the Sith compound, and the plastoid armor had the pink paint of the 104th which meant that they especially didn’t want to tangle with them. Even if current company possessed a biting kink, the Wolfpack was vicious. Better to take chances around the Sith.
While they pretended to be where they were supposed to be, Quinlan began lamenting the way that Jedi and Sith couldn’t keep it in their pants around each other. Obi-Wan tried to plan an alternative, before eventually slipping away. Quinlan wasn’t drunk, and especially not drunk enough to follow Obi-Wan deeper into the compound when he wanted to be alone. Especially when there was the free show of Ahsoka maybe having dragged Ventress into some forsaken corner.
Obi-Wan had had multiple people to talk about Ventress to, after all. With his luck, Ventress would let Quinlan join in.
In truth, Obi-Wan couldn’t have said what he was looking for. Sith artefacts? Sensitive information? Somewhere to hide? All three, maybe. He was, after all, walking away from where he knew his friends were, with no destination, in the middle of a place he really didn’t want to get caught in.
Of course, that’s how he ended up right in the middle of it all.
“Kriffing idiot, that’s what I am,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself as he dove into a convenient love bush to avoid a droid patrol. Once he was reasonably assured it had passed, he dusted himself off and kept up a steadily litany of self-denigration and, when he was feeling more creative, force-centric swears. “Force of kriffing—it all up!” His teeth clacked uncomfortably as he tripped over some kind of demon root and went sprawling.
Movement came from somewhere above him, and Obi-Wan hid again, contorting himself into a corner thin enough he had to suck in his lungs. A door crashed open, and Obi-Wan used the sound to cover his movements as he sought to get a look at what was going on.
“This is uncivilized,” someone grumbled from above. “Karking party, karking arrangements, I will get my revenge—" Obi-Wan chanced a look up, and yes—that absolutely was the beautiful Sith who kissed like a goose. He tried to get a better look. That face wasn’t much less adorned despite the fluffy porg-printed towel that was wrapped around his skull, so it had to be either natural or tattoos. And that was it, aside from what might be a matching towel around his hips. “Karking Jedi, coming in undercover and screwing everything over. And everyone. Kark.”
He couldn’t help it—Obi-Wan blushed. These kinds of intimate displays were worse than Sith lightning for his nerves, it was just so adorable. He pulled his head back down into his hiding place, but on the way there he bumped it against a metal drainage pipe. It clanged, and the Sith looked around with sudden intent.
“Who’s there?” He called out sharply. When Obi-Wan risked looking back up, he saw the telltale red light of a Sith lightsaber and considered his options. He could try to sneak away, or he could test his diplomacy mettle and if he was lucky come away unscathed. His decision was made when the Sith jumped down from his balcony, bare feet barely stirring the dirt.
There was a moment of double-vision, the oh, the disconnect that came when you saw something through the Force that didn’t quite match with what your eyes were showing you. For a flash, Obi-Wan knew the person in front of him was his. There was mating jewelry with the weird angles of being melted with a lightsaber, homemade, in his specific blues. There was a possessiveness there too, but not one that he feared. In that moment, he knew that meeting him like this was right, that he should hold onto him with both hands lest he lose them.
And then the moment passed, and porg-pattern reasserted itself.
“What, are you planning to fight me with one hand holding up that towel, or should I prepare myself for the full view?” Of course he immediately fell back on old habits. He held one lightsaber at the ready, and parried the blade that flashed instinctively at him, fast as flame. “You can hit harder than that, sweetheart.” A smirk took over the lower half of his face, even as he despaired of what would happen when guards were eventually called. Locking blades with the red lightsaber, Obi-Wan could not stop his mouth from moving. Why couldn’t he stop his mouth from moving? “Thank you, lovely, may I have another?”
Astoundingly, that made Maul drop the tip of his lightsaber. “Oh, it’s you. I thought the party was breaking up, why are you still here? How did you find my room?”
“Why, who else but the Force itself could lead me straight to the belle of the ball on a night like this? I don’t think you’ve—pardon, found a Jedi properly yet?”
Impossibly, a darker purple shone on his cheeks, though it disappeared as the lightsaber clicked off and they were left under the dimness of the moons and the occasional street light. “What makes the Jedi so special?”
“Would you like me to show you?” Obi-Wan approached, daring to put a hand on Maul’s bare chest and smoothing the skin there and rubbing his hip with the other.
“If my Master sees you, he’ll murder you,” Maul murmured, leaning into the magnetic hands. “And not only for ruining my best robes.
“Oh, but what a way to go.” Obi-Wan backed Maul into the wall, pushing a leg over Maul’s towel, between his own. “After I’ve redeemed my first impression of course. And I do have a reputation to redeem, for the sake of the Jedi.”
That was, of course, when Maul bit him. He’d been on his toes, kissing Obi-Wan’s neck. There was at least a 50% shot that it would be impossible to hide the mark without being completely obvious about it. Such was his lot in life. Obi-Wan tweaked a nipple in reproof, and Maul gasped.
“You—want me? Just like that?”
“Oh, darling, I’m already halfway to loving you,” Obi-Wan confessed helplessly. He’d always fallen in love too fast. To keep Maul from thinking too much about it, that’s when Obi-Wan daintily stuffed a hand down his pants.
“Already?”
“Weren’t you about ready to stab me for it just a few minutes ago?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a Jedi? Is this the Force’s revenge?” Maul groaned into Obi-Wan’s collarbone, pushing away his loose robe with his nose. “No stabbing until after the wedding. I’ve sworn it, and I’ll abide.”
“And this isn’t stabbing?” Obi-Wan pressed his fingers against the bony ridges of his cock, and Maul shuddered.
“I don’t care. I want you. I’m halfway to—”
“Maul!” Anakin’s voice rang out from inside the room. Maul froze midsentence, and then let out a bitten off noise when Obi-Wan didn’t stop.
“I need to go.”
“This first,” Obi-Wan insisted. Maul was close, and potential exhibitionism must have been a turn on because from there it was a simple thing to pull Maul off. There was even a handy towel, though against the cutesy print their evidence looked all the more obscene.
“I trust that was a much improved second impression?”
“I hate you,” the Sith replied, without rancor. It was a true confession! Obi-Wan grinned madly back at him and pointedly licked the last of the evidence of that truth off of his finger.
“Maul, where are you? The kitties are here!”
“Little monsters,” Maul growled. Then he looked at Obi-Wan and sighed. “Now what the hell am I supposed to wear?
Obi-Wan unclipped his cloak. “Until we see each other again.”
“Yeah, yeah, asshole.” A pause, and a smirk, more suave than anything Maul had managed so far. It was quite the impressive change, even if it was clearly just him putting up a face. “I want you. I’m going to take you. That’s what a Sith does, even to a Jedi. Watch for my—person, tomorrow. If you want to meet again.” The last was added as an afterthought, like of course Obi-Wan was going to go along with him.
How incredibly sweet. “Of course, my dear.”
Maul jumped back onto the balcony, and Obi-Wan watched his back flex as he did. The zabrak really was cute, if inexperienced, and probably enough of an asshole to keep up with him to boot. “Karking hells, I’m more than halfway in love with him,” Obi-Wan thought, looking back up at the now-shut balcony door. There was no way this was going to end well for him.
And that was before he contemplated asking Quartermaster Hemmingroad for yet another cloak. The life of a Jedi.
And then he had a thought. Looking up at Maul’s window, he suddenly knew how he could avoid ever needing to bully or beg for another cloak ever again. Maybe. No, that was a terrible idea. He just needed to get home, get a good night’s rest, and everything would be fine.
