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Jango met Duke-Consort Obi-Wan Kenobi not long after his 15th birthday.

Just like most Mandalorian children, Jango had begun training at age 10 and then he’d had his verd’goten at 13. He had been trained for his verd’goten alongside his buir’s verde in preparation for his rite of passage. And he’d enjoyed training with the Mand’alor’s squad, and being the little verd’ika of the Mand’alor’s battalion. But he hadn’t cared much about the fate of Mandalore beyond that. For the most part he just cared little for his buir’s work with the army and his buir’s responsibilities in running Mandalore space alongside each of the Duchies of the Mandalorian worlds.

That was until around his seventh year with Jaster, not long after his 15th birthday. During school they had been learning a lot about politics and how their sector differed so greatly from most other functional sectors in the galaxy. It was during those lessons that Jango first began to wonder, to feel curious about all of the responsibilities his buir’s took on as Mand’alor.

“Buir?” Jango asked as he wandered into his buir’s study one night, when his adoptive father was home.

Jaster hummed and looked up at him through the spectacles perched on the end of his nose, making his brown eyes look giant, through the thick lenses. “Me'vaar ti gar?” His adoptive father asked: What is it?

“We’ve been talking a lot at school about how the government of Mandalore is structured. And I…” Jango trailed off, not sure how to ask for what he wanted.

Jaster nodded, “And what, Jan’ika?” Jaster verbally nudged him, gently.

Jango sank down into one of the wide, sturdy chairs made to hold the weight of a full-grown, armoured verd. “I guess I was curious what it was like from your perspective,” he said, crossing his arms and looking away.

He could see Jaster’s gentle smile from the corner of his eye and relaxed a bit.

“What about if you come with me next week to visit all of the planets as I make my biannual tour of the sector?”

Jango’s head jerked to look at his buir, wide-eyed. “Wait, really?”

“Of course Jan’ika,” Jaster grinned. “I’ve been hoping you would start to become interested in my work the last year or two. I’d be honoured to show you what being the Mand’alor is like.”

Their trip at times was tedious, full of a lot of waiting to see dignitaries, long stately meals with officials and council meetings with local clan leaders that made Jango yawn.

Despite the drier moments, Jango did genuinely enjoy himself. He always enjoyed spending time with his buir, and the two of them had a lot of time to talk, spar and bond on the jumps between planets.

Jango couldn’t remember a time when he’d had so much of Jaster’s entire focus as he did now, and it delighted him. Maybe back when he’d first become Jaster’s foundling he’d also had Jaster focus, but everything had been too new at the time, and Jaster’s attention had been nerve wracking then. This time, with Jaster’s attention and encouragement, Jango felt like he was important and that he mattered in a way he’d never felt before. Jaster even encouraged him to share his opinions with him over some of the problems brought up by the councils and Duchies they’d met and talked with. Once, Jaster had even had one of Jango’s ideas implemented by a clan council.

Jango had never felt prouder, more excited to be Jaster’s son than in that moment.

Their last stop on the trip was Kalevala. Since Kalevala was the closest planet to Mandalore, where they mainly lived in the Mand’alor’s compound outside of Keldabe, Jaster had saved it for their last stop.

“I’ve been thinking about developing some land on Kalevala as a vacation property, so I’d love to see what you think of it while we’re there.” Jaster had told Jango as they prepared to land in Kalevala’s capital dome.

Jango wrinkled his nose. “You want to vacation here instead of somewhere nice like Concord Dawn or Krownest? Isn’t this planet mostly toxic desert?”

“Well, the Protectors and I still don’t get on, even after all these years,” Jaster said awkwardly, smoothing down his right eyebrow. Jango had never noticed his buir having a nervous tick before, but knowing his buir’s history with the Journeymen Protectors, Jango could understand how thoughts of his partial banishment could bring it out. “So I don’t think I could live there for an extended period of time. And as for Krownest, you know how I feel about the cold,” Jaster finished with a hint of exasperation.

Jango grinned, Jaster hated the cold. During winter on Mandalore, he would complain all the time about his left knee, whenever it got cold. Jango hummed, trying not to grin, “I have heard that old people don’t like the cold.” Krownest was quite cold. Some areas had snow year-round. It was incredibly beautiful though.

Jaster glared at him. “Just wait until you are in your fifties my ad'ika, you won’t think it’s so old then.”

Jango rolled his eyes. He couldn’t imagine being that old.

“Anyways, the Duchess, her Consort and their council have been working on healing the land in certain, receptive areas on the planet, over the last ten years. They’ve had some amazing successes. They had their first vineyard outside a dome start up three years ago and it’s doing tremendously well. Some of the land I own is around a lake they have been healing and restoring. They are planning on putting a semi-open dome, only to help protect the newly healing land from toxic rain. But the work they’ve done is beautiful.”

Jango hummed. “Maybe we can see it before we go home?”

“Great idea Jan’ika.” Jaster reached over and ruffled his hair.

Jango scowled at his laughing buir, trying to flatten his loose curls back down.

Their meeting with the Duchess and her council was just as boring as the other planets. Although Jango did hear some interesting ideas about how the Duchess was ruling this planet differently, as opposed to the other systems.

Jango met all sorts of people during his and his buir’s trip, and the Duchess and her council were no exceptions.

While on most of the systems he’d been introduced to the Duchies’ families, but on Kalevala they had been suspiciously absent.

Jaster had mentioned the Consort-Duke and their son specifically to Jango earlier, thinking they would meet. Yet neither the Duchess’ husband or son was anywhere to be seen.

Once the meeting was over and many of the politicians were chatting idly, Jaster approached the Duchess with Jango in tow. Jango did not want to be chatted up by one of these New Mandalorians. Jango made a face just thinking about them. Many of the people living on Kalevala were New Mandalorian, and Jango found he did not like how they dressed, how they spoke, or even how they greeted him and his buir.

“Where is your charming husband and son today, Duchess?” Jaster smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, they’re down at the South Lake Restoration Site. Some of the final work is being done on the lake this week, before the protective dome will be constructed. My husband has been working very hard on the project. It seems like he just couldn’t pull himself away today, for even a minute.” Her voice sounded rather shrill considering how elegant and smooth she’d spoken during the council meeting.

“Well that is good luck for me and Jan’ika then,” Jaster smiled politically. “We wanted to see the work being done there today.”

“I can arrange transportation for you and your honour guard,” she waved her hand, calling over her assistant.

“Thank-you,” Jaster smiled and tilted his head to the side slightly in thanks. The Mand’alor didn’t bow his head. But neither it seemed, was the Duchess willing to.

Kryze nodded in return, instead stiffly putting her hand over her heart as a sign of respect for the Mand’alor.

“Never liked that woman,” Jaster hissed as they got into the transport, twenty minutes later.

“Really?” Jango asked, intrigued. He didn’t think his buir was allowed to dislike the Duchies. They kept the systems running, solving problems the Mand’alor just didn’t have the time to handle on his own.

“She is much worse than her father,” Jaster sighed. “And every year she seems stiffer and more insistent distancing her people from Our Ways, more insistent on forced pacifism.”

“How can she call herself Mandalorian and be a pacifist?” Jango thought aloud.

Jaster clasped his hand on Jango’s shoulder. “We all have to find a way of life that we can live with. But we all need to be cautious of letting our views, our thoughts or our feelings intrise on other people’s way of life.” The skin around Jaster’s eyes was tight with discomfort. “If she continues to fall further into her own idealism, I worry there will be a point when I may have to stop her or take power away from the Duchy on Kalevala.”

Jango stared out at the desert passing them by, wondering how his buir would go about forcing a pacifist out of power.

They arrived at the Restoration Site, just as Mandalore’s sun had passed the zenith at this latitude.

Kalevala was closer to the Mandalore system’s sun than the planet Mandalore, and the heat of the day felt sweltering.

“I can see why you’d prefer this to Krownest,” Jango said sarcastically to his buir, as they disembarked the transport and began to walk.

Jaster closed his eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath through his nose, choosing not to react to his son’s prodding. “It’s nice isn’t it? And beautiful,” he opened his eyes and grinned as the lake came into view.

The water sparkled in the sun, the lake was a rich turquoise that looked incredibly appealing. Jango wanted to run up to the edge and jump right in.

They approached what was clearly a command tent for the operation. There were also people ambling around, some taking samples from the area, some working with plants that were growing in the revitalised desert soil. There were a few large machines down on the lakeshore, pumping water in and spewing clearer water back out.

Most of the people looked Mandalorian, judging from their manner of dress and occasional armour pieces. Most were not in full armour to aid ease of movement. Jango also wouldn’t be surprised if the heat made a full set of armour unbearable to wear.

There were a scattering of people amongst them that didn’t look Mandalorian however. They were mostly dressed in simple wrap tunics and leggings of various dull, neutral shades, and they seemed to be supervising or guiding some of the Mandalorian workers through their jobs.

Jaster, Jango and two of their honour guards entered the tent, which seemed to be the only bit of shade in the vicinity.

Two men stood at a portable holotable in deep discussion over a list of numbers. There was another table along the side of the tent that held microscopes and lab equipment. A Mandalorian human without armour, dressed in the manner of the New Mandalorians, and a Nautolan in a wrap tunic stood at the equipment running tests on samples workers were bringing to them.

One of the men at the holotable turned as they approached and Jango’s breath caught in his throat.

The man had short, red hair that seemed to glow in the low lighting of the tent, along with the scattering of freckles across his pale cheeks. Jango couldn’t tell the colour of his eyes, but the corners of his eyes wrinkled happily in greeting, even as his fist went up over his chest in the traditional salute of the Mand’alor.

Jango wouldn’t have said he was specifically attracted to redheads before this, but there was something about this man’s presence that drew Jango in.

“Mand’alor, I didn’t realise you’d be here today! I thought it would be a couple of days until you arrived. Apologies, no one was at the arrival zone to meet you.” The man paused and glanced down at the holotable. He briefly waved off the other man he’d been talking to, who then turned away to talk to the two people testing samples.

“Oh,” the man said in realisation, turning back to them. “You must have landed in the capital today, didn’t you?” He grinned with good humour. “The Duchess must have been furious I wasn’t there. Ni ceta. I apologise for any slight from either of us that you may have experienced over the situation,” the man dipped his head in apology.

Jaster waved away the apology. “No harm, no foul. And both the walk here and your wife were lovely. How are you doing Kenobi?” Jango was surprised to see his buir hold out his hand. Jaster rarely clasped arms with other politicians: the verde from his squads and military officers, yes; politicians, no.

Kenobi let out a laugh at Jaster’s sarcastic comment on his wife and grasped the arm outstretched. “Yes. I can imagine.” Despite the fact that Jaster had dissed this man’s wife and her behaviour, the man’s face was full of warmth. He just seemed so affable and approachable. So very different from the Duchess and the council that Jango had met earlier.

“I’m well, thank-you ‘Alor. As you may have heard, we have had much success at this site,” Kenobi gestured to the space outside with his free arm. “We’re entering the final touches of restoration before construction begins. If you’ll allow me, I would love to show you around.”

Jaster nodded as they dropped arms. “That would be great.” Jaster turned to Jango, wrapping his arm around Jango’s shoulders. “Kenobi, this is my son Jango Fett. Jan’ika, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Duke-Consort of Kalevala.”

Jango felt himself blush at being called Jan’ika in front of this gorgeous man.

Jango had known about his own attraction to males for the last couple years. It had taken him a while to figure it out, but after he’d stared at Myles’ lips all afternoon one day at school, wondering what they would feel like against his, he’d figured it out. But he hadn’t expected to be hit by such a powerful attraction to someone that must have been double his age and married to a horrible woman to top it off.

“Hi,” Jango smiled shyly.

Kenobi’s eyes crinkled again. “Nice to meet you Jango. Now, shall we?” Kenobi gestured to the tent’s exit.

They emerged into the bright, waning light of the late afternoon, the brightness of the sun making Kenobi’s hair seem more golden than red.

“You’ve seen the inside of the administration tent,” Kenobi waved at the tent they’d exited. “We do all of our planning, long-term assessment and sample testing in there.”

He led them forward, towards the shore where the large machines were still pushing out gallons of water. “These are the purifiers we’re using to clean the water. The pollution levels of the lake are now minute and the water is safe for human exposure. We’re now using the purifiers to ready the lake for the fish and aquatic species we are going to introduce to it.”

“Really,” Jaster said, surprised. “ Kalevala has been toxic for so many generations. I didn’t expect to ever see fauna on Kalevala in my lifetime. What are you introducing?”

“There are ten species of symbiotic fish, amphibians and insects we have been breeding off-site and are about ready to introduce. They’re all from Draboon and are similar to species reported to have lived on Kalevala before war transformed its landscape. We compiled evidence from scholarly and fictional writing of descriptions of local fauna and flora to help rebuild this ecosystem. As you may have heard, our previous endeavours have all been to help the land begin to grow crops to sustain the population and the economy. This has been our first attempt to restore part of the land to a similar state to what it once was. Half of the area is owned by private investors, one of which you are, Mand’alor,” Kenobi smiled over his shoulder at them. “The other half is owned by the Kalevalean Duchy in trust for the people of this planet. That half will be a nature park for the citizens to enjoy.”

“I would love to see some of your research on this historical information you found,” Jaster said enthusiastically and Jango rolled his eyes.

Jaster Mereel was a fair Mand’alor that ruled with a firm military presence. A moral and skilled fighter, anyone who didn’t know him personally wouldn’t expect the man to be as much of a nerd as he was. Any moment he wasn’t attending to duties, Jaster had his nose in a book. Jango had teased him more than a time or two that the reason he needed glasses was because he read so much.

“I would be delighted to share our research and findings with you, ‘Alor,” Kenobi grinned, leading them away from the turquoise water and up over the crest of a hill, where their project spanned out over an adjacent valley.

Kenobi led them along, pointing out plants and mosses they had reintroduced to help regenerate the soil.

At one point, Jango almost tripped over a rock, listening as intently to Kenobi as he was. The man’s face was so beautifully animated as he talked so passionately about the reclamation project.

They neared an area around the opposite side of the lake from where they had started, Jango began to notice some of the plants were newer, and there was even a group of workers in the midst of planting saplings and sprouts.

“Korkie!” Kenobi called out. “We have guests, come meet them!” Kenobi turned to them and grinned. “Korkie has been helping out on the project when he’s not in school.”

A boy of seven or eight wandered up, knees and hands covered in sandy dirt. “Someone needs to look after your shebs dad,” the kid grinned up at Kenobi.

Looking between Kenobi’s son and Kenobi’s features in the bright light of the waning afternoon, Jango realised he was wrong in his estimation of the man. Kenobi must only be a decade older than Jango.

He felt a bit ashamed at how that excited him.

Kenobi introduced them all to his son and then suggested heading back to the administration tent.

“We should get you back if you want to eat and sleep in the capital tonight,” Kenobi explained.

Jango stared helplessly at Kenobi’s toned ass as he led them back around the lake the other way.

“Jan’ika and I wouldn’t mind eating and sleeping with all of you.” Jaster said, not put out at the thought of sleeping on the ground.

Jango flushed at the thought of sharing a tent with Kenobi, and hoped the heat of the day would make people think he was just turning red because he was warm.

“If you’re sure ‘Alor.” Kenobi replied hesitantly.

“I’m sure. I’ve roughed it in far worse conditions than this while on campaign.”

“Well then,” Kenobi grinned, “Let’s dig you up a tent to share.”

The rest of the late afternoon and evening went well.

Hours later, the four of them and the four honour guards that had accompanied Jaster and Jango, sat around a campfire chatting late into the night.

Jaster and Kenobi had gotten sucked into a deep discussion – earlier in the evening – on how the biology of different symbiotic species could affect or adapt to new environments, and it wasn’t long before their conversation sounded like it was more ridiculous jargon than actual words.

Meanwhile, Korkie seemed fascinated by some of the guards’ amour and was full of questions. Jango had his own set of armour, but had decided to only wear his vambraces when they had landed on Kalevala. A decision he was glad of because of the heat and winding walk from that afternoon.

“Doesn’t your buir have armour you can ask about?” Jango asked Korkie, during a lull in the boy’s questions.

“My dad does the best he can to answer any questions I have. But he’s not originally from Mandalore, and my mom is really anti-armour right now. We don’t talk much about Mandalorian traditions in our home.”

“But armour is part of the Resol'nare! A part of every Mandalorian’s soul,” Jango protested, upset. Not to mention it was a part of the code every Mandalorian swore to their Mand’alor.

Korkie looked away, uncomfortable. “I know. My dad does have his own vambraces though,” Korkie brightened considerably.

Jango tried not to let himself get lost in the daydream of swapping vambraces with Kenobi one day.

“And your mom is ok with that, if she is set against armour and the Resol'nare?” Jango asked curiously.

Korkie winced. “Not really. They love each other… I think. But they fight a lot,” Korkie confided in a whisper. “Sometimes it’s just easier to come out here to the desert with my dad and work. It really helped me understand why my dad is so keen on this project. He used to be on all my mom’s councils and advisory boards, but now he just prefers to work on this. They fought terribly when my dad invited the Jedi Corps to help with this project.”

Jango straightened from his relaxed seated-slump against a large rock, surprised. “There are jetii here?” Jango was surprised his buir would allow such a thing.

“Didn’t you see them working around the site earlier?” Korkie frowned at him. “Anyways, they’re not full Jedi. They’re more like… the technicians to the Jedi verde. They’re really nice though. I bet you’d like them if you met them. Some of them can do some really cool things with plants and seeds.”

Jango stared at Korkie, listening to the crackling pop of the fire as it burned into simmering coals. “What kinds of things?” Jango forced himself to relax.

Jango was a Mandalorian, he hated jetii on principle. But Korkie was Mandalorian too. And if Korkie thought they were nice, maybe they were? After all, he couldn’t imagine Kenobi would invite them here and work with them if he didn’t trust them.

Jango sat back and listened as Korkie described how the jetii helped the plants grow and how they could use their powers to infuse the depleted soil with nutrients.

Maybe, Jango thought to himself, If they could help heal this planet, they really weren’t so bad?

Korkie’s descriptions of the jetii’s powers finally wound to the end. The soft whisper of the wind through the sand filled the gap where the conversation had died, making a pause that could have felt awkward, soothing.

Korkie’s freckled face looked up at the starry sky. The low buzzing of the other conversations between the honour guards and Kenobi and his buir started back up. Jango hadn’t even realised they’d paused their conversation to listen to Korkie’s explanations about the jetii.

“I know my dad can do some of those things too,” Korkie said in a hushed tone so no one else would hear. “He likes working with plants. Sometimes he knows things before they happen and things move around him that shouldn’t.”

“Your dad is manda-touched?” Maybe that explained why Kenobi could work so easily with the jetii.

Korkie shrugged. “He used to be a Jedi before he left their Order to marry my mom.”

Jango blinked, surprised. That wasn’t how he’d been expecting Korkie to end that sentence.

Jango looked over at Kenobi, sitting close to his buir, their heads bent close as they murmured to each other. Maybe jetii weren’t so bad after all… if Kenobi had been one of them.

In the morning, after a simple, filling breakfast of field rations and locally grown grapes, Jaster volunteered the two of them to help out with some of the work.

“Mand’alor,” Kenobi had smiled jovely yet kindly, “You don’t have to help! We’ve hired lots of people to finish this project.”

“Sometimes there is nothing more satisfying than doing some hard, dirty labour. Besides, I know we took you away from your work yesterday afternoon. It’s the least we can do. Besides, some of this will be parkland for the people of Kalevala, correct?”

Kenobi nodded.

“Then as the Mand’alor, it is my duty to serve my people as they serve me.”

“I am honoured to have you as my Mand’alor,” Kenobi smiled softly and bowed his head. “And I only hope that Mandalore deserves the loyalty and diligence you give to it.”

Jango shouldn’t have felt as happy as he did that Jaster and Kenobi seemed to get on like a fuel tank on fire.

Kenobi sent Jango off with Korkie to the western region of the land to plant saplings. Meanwhile, he sent Jaster off to help the temporary lab process lake bed samples in preparation for the future fish and amphibians.

Jango had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the glimmer of excitement in his buir’s eye. As much as Jango was enjoying being here, he’d rather sleep in a bunk or bed tonight. And he could tell his buir was enjoying himself enough to prolong their stay here for days.

Korkie turned out to be good company. He seemed like a happy kid who enjoyed working with his own buir. He was shockingly knowledgeable about the project and how to plant the different varieties of saplings, just right.

Jango noticed that some of the jetii Korkie had pointed out would come along after they’d planted a few, and do something with their magic to help the sapling take root and grow at an accelerated rate.

“Your dad can do that?” Jango asked in awe as a sapling he’d planted stretched up towards the sun and began to grow dark-green leaves.

“Yeah,” Korkie smiled. “Cool, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jango said absently, looking off towards the Administration tent where Kenobi and his buir must be.

The two of them returned to the administration at lunch with some of the jetii workers, in hopes of snagging some food and filling their empty canteens.

Jaster had been right, there had been something very satisfying about doing some hard labour. Jango’d had many physical chores back on the farm, when his family had been alive. But since he’d come to live with Jaster, he’d really only had his physical training. This felt different somehow, almost freeing on his soul… he’d forgotten how good it felt to work.

When they got to the tent though, they were all surprised to see Duchess Kryze there, in all her Kalevaean finery, talking in a hushed, furious voice at Kenobi.

“Mom!” Korkie smiled and wandered closer.

Kryze gave her son a grimacing smile. “Go get something to eat love, then I will take you home with me when I go.”

Korkie frowned. “You said I could stay out here with Dad all week since I’m on summer solstice holiday.”

Kryze sighed wearily. “Don’t argue with me Korkie.”

Kenobi’s jaw was tense. “Satine, please. We said we wouldn’t do this infront of Korkie. Leave him with me. I will take care of him here.”

“Will you? You barely pay attention to him. What if he got hurt, Obi? You’re always too focused to see what is happening around you.”

“I see plenty,” Kenobi snipped and turned away, shuffling through some flimsies on the table. “You know I don’t have to have physical eyes on our son to know how he is.”

“If you weren’t so distracted trying to save the whole planet over your own family, you’d notice how things really aren’t right between us.”

Kenobi opened his mouth to rebuttal angrily, but then took a glance at his son and deflated. “If Korkie is fine going with you, then I won’t stop you.” His shoulders sank. “But ask him first. He should be able to stay if he wants to. It’s better for him to be with me than some nanny anyways.”

Kryze glared at her husband, turning on her heel and leaving the tent in a huff.

Kenobi closed his eyes, his expression pained. “I’m sorry Korkie.”

Korkie stood there, staring at the exit his mother had strode out of. Jango came up behind the kid and put his hand on Korkie’s shoulder, trying to be empathetic. He had never been very good at comforting others.

Jaster and Jango left a few hours after that.

Jango felt a bit bad about leaving Korkie, after he’d had to experience that. Despite their age differences, the kid had been easy to talk to. And working alongside Korkie had been enjoyable.

As their transport speeder began to start up, Jango could see Kenobi gently embracing his son from where they had stopped, waiting to see Jango and Jaster off. And from the way Korkie melted into his dad’s embrace, Jango knew the kid would be okay. He obviously had a father that cared deeply for him and would fight for him.

It didn’t hurt that seeing Kenobi fight for what his son wanted had been very attractive. Fighting to keep your family safe was a very Mando’ad trait, so Jango really couldn’t be blamed for how hot Kenobi made him.

Kenobi waved up at them as the speeder began to move.

Jango shyly waved back and then moved seats to press sideways into his buir’s side.

Jaster’s arm came up around Jango’s shoulders. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s this for?” Jango was not the most physically affectionate of sons.

“Just thanks,” Jango smiled crookedly at Jaster, “For being my buir.” He thought of how Kryze had treated her son, seeming to just want to use her kid as ammunition in a fight with her husband. Jango was grateful he’d been adopted by a man like Jaster.

Jaster smiled and used his free hand to muss Jango’s hair.

“Buir!” Jango squawked, mortified, suddenly very glad the Kenobis were fading into the distance.

Over the next few months Jango thought a lot about Kenobi and Korkie. He even looked up anything on the holonet he could find about them.

There was shockingly little information about the man. But what there was was pictures.

Apparently being the Duke-Consort of Kalevala meant you were very much in the public’s eye. Seeing all the holophotos of Kenobi, both in the form of press releases and tabloid shots, Jango was glad there were laws on Mandalore about taking pictures of minors without the parents consent. (Not that Kenobi didn’t look amazing in the holophotos, he did, it was just that some of the photos looked terribly intrusive into the man’s personal life.)

To Jango’s knowledge there were only two pictures of himself on the holonet. The first was from a press release when Jaster had first adopted Jango. Jango had been so tiny then, he looked almost nothing like he did now. Jango was pretty sure he’d even been missing a bottom-front tooth in that picture.

The second holophoto of Jango was from last year. His school Get'shuk team had made it to the Sector Championships for their age range. They’d come in second and a picture of them had appeared in the Manda’yaim Daily. He was listed solely under his name, with no hint of his connection to Jaster in the article. So someone would have to search his name specifically if they wanted to find it.

But some of the pictures of Kenobi. Damn.

Apparently during his honeymoon with Kryze, a paparazzi had managed to sneak a holophoto of the two of them beside a pool at the resort they’d stayed at on Malastare.

In the photo Kryze was barely wearing anything, and Kenobi was no better.

Fuck, Jango wondered if Kenobi still looked that solid underneath his clothing.

From what’d he’d seen, Kenobi had looked amazing in just his simple work clothes. But Jango obviously hadn’t been blessed by the manda; he hadn’t seen Kenobi like this.

For longer than he would care to admit, Jango stared at the pictures online, imagining a man like that in his bed.

And if Jango managed to get a flimsy-print of that 9 year old photo and hide it away under his bed, no one else had to know.

Jango was 17 before the Kenobi-Kryzes popped back into his life.

But even all through that two-year period, Kenobi hadn’t left his mind. Kenobi still made Jango feel things.

One of his fondest fantasies was Kenobi over top of him, pressing him down onto his bed.

He was a little ashamed that when he kissed his first boyfriend, he wasn’t paying attention to the other boy, but instead wondering how Kenobi would have kissed him.

And although Jango had been more interested in his buir’s work since then, and had even accompanied his buir on many of his biannual tours, he’d never had the opportunity to see Kenobi again. Or Korkie for that matter.

He’d met the Duchess three times since, but she always left a bad taste in his mouth. Jango could see why his buir was not all that fond of her.

But then, Kenobi came up again. It was a few months after Jango’s seventeenth birthday. He’d been at school. And during study period, two of his classmates were whispering to each other excitedly.

Jango, who had been trying to study for their upcoming final exams, had snapped at them. “What is so important that you need to disrupt my study time?”

“Jango, don’t you know?” One of the two had asked him, a disturbingly excited gleam in her eye. He knew she in particular loved to gossip. “I thought you would have known, since your dad is the Mand’alor and all.”

“Know what?” Jango asked shortly. He was not in the mood for gossip.

“Duchess Kryze is divorcing her jetii husband.” She murmured, smirking, clearly enjoying someone else’s misfortune.

“Not Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Jango asked, suddenly very interested in what they were talking about.

“Yeah, him.” She nodded and showed him her datapad, which was open to a tabloid holosite that was proclaiming just what she’d told him.

He stared at the article for a long moment before pulling away and shaking his head. “Why should I care?” He tried to affect disinterest, but his stomach was swooping at the thought of Kenobi free from that horrible marriage.

He struggled to concentrate for the rest of the day.

As he fell asleep that night, his thoughts were only of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Consort-Duke.

It wasn’t long after Jango’s graduation and his eighteenth birthday that the Kenobi-Kryzes came up again. Although Jango definitely wasn’t expecting something like this.

Jango had been out with Myles, Silas and the boy he was currently dating: Herum. They were celebrating their acceptances to the University of Mandalore.

Jango still wasn’t sure if he wanted to even do post-secondary schooling, but Jaster had suggested it.

”Live your life Jango. Enjoy yourself. You can start an apprenticeship under me after you get a degree. It gives you four years to figure out who you are and what you want from life before you have to take on the weighty responsibility of being Mand’alor.”

It had sort of become a well-kept secret in the Mand’alor’s fortress that Jango was being seriously considered to take Jaster’s place as Mand’alor, when his buir stepped down. Becoming Mand’alor had little to do with bloodline or parentage, but much of the army seemed to trust that Jango would take his buir’s place and they supported Jaster’s decision.

Jango wasn’t shocked. For the past three years, Jango had been groomed and trained to take Jaster’s place in the unlikely event that his buir passed away suddenly and someone needed to step in to the role. And with how much Jango helped Jaster with his duties, most of Jaster’s advisors and councils had found Jango competent and thought him able to handle his buir’s duties, in the future.

So Jango could see his buir’s point. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take some time to enjoy himself before he took on that responsibility. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take that break at University or even stay on the planet.

So Jango was sitting, sipping a meiloorun blue-milkshake morosely as his friends and boyfriend chattered excitedly about university, when he heard his name being called.

“Jango!” a croaky teen voice called and Jango turned towards it.

Korkie Kryze had just entered the restaurant Jango and his friends were hanging out in.

“Korkie, hey!” Jango called back, waving him over to their table.

Korkie had gotten a lot taller in the past three years since Jango had first met him. He looked even more like his mother than Jango would have ever expected, but his face was freckled and his red hair was bleached gold by the sun, it was now the same colour Kenobi’s had been back then.

“Come sit down at our table,” Jango pushed Herum further down the bench to make room for Korkie.

There was another preteen with Korkie, a girl that looked to be around Korkie’s age with blonde hair and wide blue eyes.

“This is my friend Lagos. She and I are transferring to the same school you all just graduated from.”

“Is that why you’re on Mandalore? I didn’t think our school was that good,” he joked. Jango and his friends had attended the prestigious Osland Academy that was supposedly designed to prepare their students to be future leaders in politics and business. But there were good schools on Kalevala too, not to mention the New Mandalorian financially supported Royal Academy in Sundari. So Jango was surprised to see Korkie here. “Mandos,” he gestured to his friends, “This is Korkie Kryze. I met him on Kalevala a few years ago.”

Korkie and his friend squeezed into the space they’d made for them. “Kryze-Kenobi actually,” Korkie corrected him gently.

“Oh sorry,” Jango said. “I thought you’d taken your mother’s name because of the Duchy.”

“I originally did. But when my parents split, I took my dad’s name too,” Korkie shrugged.

Jango’s belly squirmed at the reminder that Kenobi was no longer married to that awful woman. “Right. So your parents wanted you to attend Osland?”

Korkie shrugged again. “My friend Lagos was coming here and I convinced my mom to send me as well. My dad has taken an apartment in Keldabe. This way I get to see him more often.”

Jango’s throat went dry. “You’re both staying here on Manda'yaim? But your restoration project…?” Jango cleared his throat. “Korkie’s father was working on a restoration project in the Kalevala wastes,” he explained to his friends as if his heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of his chest at the thought of Kenobi living in Jango’s city.

“The money the Kalevalean council was willing to set aside for the project dried up. Actually,” Korkie paused and furrowed his eyebrows at Jango, “The Mand’alor heard dad’s project was ending and invited him here to try a new project on some of the areas on Manda'yaim that are still uninhabitable and toxic.”

“I didn’t realise,” Jango said faintly, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

Silas and Jango’s boyfriend exchanged looks with each other, confused at his tension. Myles was the only one with any clue about Jango’s feelings for Kenobi.

Myles cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, Korkie, Lagos, what classes are you going to be taking at Osland?”

The noise of their answers faded away and Jango stared down at his blueshake.

Kenobi was so close now.

In the end, Jango could think of little else to do with himself until he started his apprenticeship under Jaster, and he decided to take classes at the University of Mandalore, Keldabe campus.

It wasn’t long after they started taking classes that Herum broke up with him. His boyfriend was frustrated that Jango didn’t want to be intimate with Herum. When he’d asked if Jango just didn’t like intimacy, Jango hadn’t known what to say.

He couldn’t very well tell his boyfriend that he was saving himself for the man he’d been in love with since he was fifteen.

It was for the best really. Herum had been a good distraction, but ever since Jango found out that Kenobi was living here on Keldabe, he struggled to focus on anything or anyone else.

Every once in a while when Jango came home to visit his buir, he saw Kenobi leaving or coming for appointments to talk to the Mand’alor about the revitalization project here on Manda’yaim.

There had been a few passing nods, smiles and “Su’cuy”s, but frustratingly, they’d never spoken more than that.

The year passed by with an aching sluggishness.

It wasn’t long after Jango’s nineteenth birthday and the start of his second year of university, that he came home to live in his buir’s house.

Myles, who was rooming with him on campus, was driving him up the wall and Jango just needed a little break.

Myles had been trying to get Jango to be more social. Which Jango couldn’t understand. Jango had a few study groups he’d joined on campus and he’d even joined the University’s junior Get'shuk team. But that hadn’t been enough for Myles.

“You need to get out more Jango.” Myles had insisted one evening when they’d been quietly working on assignments at their desks, in their shared room.

“I do get out! I go to classes. I hangout with my study groups. I hang out with you and Silas. And I go to my team practices. What more do you want from me, Myles?” Jango asked ferociously.

“I want you to stop pining for that old guy!” Myles blurted out. “He doesn’t even know you exist. On top of which, he is ancient. It would be weird if you got with him. You’ve only dated two people in all the time I’ve known you. It’s not healthy!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Jango roared, standing up so quickly that his chair fell over with a crash. “I can’t just force myself to fall out of love like that. I’m not you.”

Myles’ terra-cotta skin had gone grey. And Jango wasn’t sure if his friend’s shock was from hearing Jango saying he loved Kenobi or for how he’d insulted Myles’ cavalier way of loving.

So Jango had left in a huf with nothing more than his keys and ident cards.

The Mand’alor’s compound wasn’t actually that far from campus. Jango could easily take transit there or ask for a government speeder and driver to drop him off at campus in the mornings.

As luck would have it, Jaster had left the day before for his biannual tour of the Sector’s planets. Apparently there was some big celebration on Krownest next week, which would make Jaster’s trip extra long this time.

If Jaster had been in, he would have no doubt poked at Jango over why he was so moody and why he was so keen on avoiding Myles, his best friend. And Jango wasn’t really ready to tell his buir about his feelings. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready.

Except for the one slip when he’d told Myles when they were sixteen, Jango had never told anyone how he felt about Kenobi. He knew if he’d told people, it would have made the delusion of his feelings a reality.

Jango was fairly aware that nothing would ever happen between him and Kenobi. That didn’t mean his feelings weren’t real to him.

And that didn’t mean he had to let them go.

He loved the man, there was nothing wrong with that.

During the second week of his quiet stay in his buir’s house, there was a knock on the door not long after lastmeal, one evening. Since there were no security alerts, whoever was at the door had security clearance to be in the Mand’alor’s compound.

Jango groaned, sure it was Myles at the door, trying to drag him back to campus. Then Myles would act like nothing happened between them, which was typical Myles. Instead his best friend would apologise in the most bizarre way possible, without ever having to say sorry. Like he’d make hotcakes for Jango one morning or do his laundry for an entire week.

And maybe it was time to go back. Jango knew he was being foolish. His friend was right, he needed to move on.

Jango smiled to himself and shook his head, heading towards the front door. Since he was sure it was Myles, he didn’t bother to grab a weapon or his over-tunic. Myles had seen him in smallclothes and a sleeveless undertunic plenty of times.

Except it wasn’t Myles at the door.

“Jango,” Obi-Wan Kenobi stood in the doorway, looking perfect and put together, while Jango was standing in front of him in little more than his underthings. What a hot mess.

“Ke-Kenobi,” Jango stuttered, surprised. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just here for my standing appointment with your buir,” Kenobi said, lifting his datapad and wiggling it. “Like we do, every-other Taungsday night.”

“Oh. My buir’s on his biannual tour this week.”

“Oh.” Kenobi’s expression fell. “We must have gotten our wires crossed. I thought that was next week. I have a few seed shipments I need him to approve.”

Jango made a helpless noise at the back of his throat. “Why don’t you come in,” Jango opened the door wider.

“I shouldn’t. And I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Kenobi’s eyes roamed over Jango’s form, lingering on Jango’s exposed muscular biceps and thighs, well-built from playing Get'shuk and regularly training with his father’s squadron.

“No, of course not,” Jango insisted eagerly. “Come in and I’ll check buir’s schedule for you. At least then we can figure out when you can meet up with him again.”

“Alright,” Kenobi followed him in, closing the front door behind him.

Jango knew he must be imagining it, but Kenobi’s gaze felt hungry and intense on his back.

Jango led Kenobi to his buir’s study, and grabbed the datapad that held Jaster’s schedule.

Heart pounding in his chest, Jango sat on the edge of the desk, spreading his legs and leaning back slightly to show off his body.

“It looks like he gets back in two Centaxdays, barring any complications. Should I put you in his schedule for the Taungsday after that?” Jango asked, looking up at Kenobi from under his lashes.

Kenobi stepped forward so his hips were being bracketed by Jango’s thighs. He took the datapad from Jango’s hands and put it down on the desk.

“Damn you’re beautiful,” Kenobi whispered. “You make it very hard to concentrate.”

Jango’s chest felt warm and full at the words. “Thank-you,” he said shyly. For years he’d been pining after this man. The irony that this would happen after telling himself that this would never happen, was not lost on Jango. And yet it felt like this actually was happening. He wasn't dreaming!

Kenobi rested his hands on the outer edges of Jango’s thighs, kneading the muscles there, teasingly. “Is this okay? I feel like I need to touch you. Like you need me to touch you as well.”

“Yes, I want it. Keep touching me,” Jango whispered, turning his head to the side, demurely.

“I’m not imagining this, am I? I feel like there is something between us. Something physical and intense. I hope I’m not reading this wrong, if I am, please tell me. But if you are interested, I would like to fuck you.” Kenobi breathed between them.

Jango’s lips parted in surprise, his heart racing in his chest. “I would like that as well.” His thighs felt like they were on fire underneath Kenobi’s hands.

“Excellent,” Kenobi breathed and ducked in for a deep kiss.

For a few long moments, Jango lost himself to the movement of Kenobi’s lips on his. He wanted to quantify exactly how Kenobi kissed, but his brain felt like it was full of static. He groaned into Kenobi’s mouth, his own hands grasping out for any part of Kenobi he could reach.

They parted, Kenobi sucked on Jango’s bottom lip for a brief moment before kissing his way along Jango’s jaw and down his neck.

“Kenobi,” Jango moaned as Kenobi nibbled on his neck, the man’s large hands sliding up Jango’s thighs and under his shirt, clasping Jango’s bare waist. He panted, feeling like his lungs couldn’t expand far enough in his chest. Almost as if he was gasping for air because Kenobi had stolen it all from his very lungs.

Kenobi lifted his head away from Jango’s neck. “Call me Obi-Wan,” he said firmly.

“I-I never thought…” Jango said quietly, averting his eyes. “I never thought I would ever be anything to you. I never let myself think of you as Obi-Wan. You were always Kenobi in my head.”

“You’ve thought of me?” Kenobi asked quietly, frowning thoughtfully. His hands tightened on Jango’s waist. “When we met all those years ago, I know you… had a crush on me. But I didn’t think it went beyond a youthful infatuation.”

“You knew?” Jango flushed, embarrassed. Were all the stories about jetii being mind-readers true?

“I’m force-sensitive,” Kenobi explained easily. “We’re natural empaths. We feel other people’s emotions. And you were a teenager, Jango. I figured those feelings would fade.”

“Well they didn’t,” Jango said boldly, lifting his chin. “Does that change how much you want me?”

“I don’t know what I did in my life, to deserve to have such a young and beautiful creature be so interested in me; but I am not complaining.” Kenobi smiled slowly, boldly. “I would still like to take you to bed, if you would like that.”

Jango took a deep, relieved breath. “Yes please, Obi-Wan.”