Archive of Our Own

He wakes up with a weight on his tongue. Instinctively, he tries to spit it out, but it refuses to budge.

Panic suffuses his whole system, flooding him with adrenaline, before he realizes he can breathe through the obstruction.

A tiny bit calmer, he reaches into the Force even as he assesses himself. The Force itself is quiet, danger absent from his vicinity. He can also feel the Force, which means it’s not been suppressed.

There’s something over his eyes, which keeps him in the dark even when he blinks his eyes open. He’s warm and there’s something soft covering him, but he realizes he’s not wearing any clothes. There’s the weight on his tongue, and the feeling of straps at the edges of his lips. A gag then. One shaped like a…he sucks at it almost subconsciously, blushing when he realizes that it’s shaped like a cock. Holes interrupt the surface, letting him breathe and letting drool drizzle out to soak into the pillow his head is smashed against.

He's on his side on a large mattress (and with the seam in the center, possibly two pushed together?), his hands tucked up against his chest. They’re bound together at the wrists, but he knows instinctively that he could snap the chain free with just the right amount of pressure and leverage. There’s also the fact that the cuffs are soft, lined with some sort of smooth padding that glides over, rather than bites into, his skin.

His ankles are similarly bound, with his knees slightly bent. There’s a pillow between them, a comfort he’s allowed himself more and more as he’s gotten older.

But he knows he didn’t put it there himself. Knows that he had intended to spend his evening quietly working. He remembered getting a cup of tea, drinking it as he started in on his datapad, and then…nothing.

It’s frightening, but again, the Force offers no warning. No danger. Not even a sense of urgency.

Despite himself, he feels his body relax. He knows he’s on The Negotiator, even if he doesn’t recognize this room. He’s almost drifted off when a familiar sense of warmth floods the Force around him, like a sunrise.

“C-dy,” he garbles out, the man’s name muffled around the gag.

“Easy, Obi-Wan.” A hand wraps firmly around his shoulder over the blanket. “You’re okay. Close your eyes.”

“Wh-t?” But Obi-Wan closes his eyes anyway, and feels a tugging sensation as the blindfold is removed.

“Open.” He opens his eyes, and it’s Cody in front of him. He looks tired, but smug in a way Obi-Wan usually only sees after the man has done something truly reckless that worked flawlessly. He’s in just his blacks, although he’s still got one vambrace on, the one with his comm.

“Your tea wasn’t drugged by the way. Patches wanted to, but you passed out from exhaustion first. Slept twelve hours.”

Obi-Wan makes an agreeing noise, even if he’s annoyed. He moves his hands out from under the blanket, shaking his wrists and gesturing at his mouth. Absentmindedly, he notes the cuffs are blue synthleather, in the same shade of blue as his lightsaber. He assumes the rest of the pieces make up a matching set.

“Ah, I suppose we did choose to take advantage of the situation to enact one of our previously discussed arrangements.”

And then it comes rushing back to Obi-Wan. A late night where he and Cody and the rest of the 212th's command staff had sat around a firepit talking. The egregiously alcoholic contents of the still none of them “knew” about had been passed around, and lips had been loosened. Obi-Wan had admitted to fantasies he normally kept hidden. The vod had done the same, expanding on things Obi-Wan had shared, and offering their own thoughts on what it would mean to be together in all ways: carnal, platonic, and romantic.

Somewhere in there, Wooley had gotten the bright idea to write it all down on a piece of flimsi, one which they’d all signed. Obi-Wan had thought there’d been some sort of tacit agreement in there about ‘after the war,’ but it appeared opportunity beat any tenets of propriety.

And in wartime, Obi-Wan couldn’t say he disagreed. They weren’t guaranteed tomorrow, much less a nebulous ‘after the war.’

“I can take the gag out. We can talk about this. I can take the cuffs and gag off and we can forget this ever happened. Or we can put what we all talked about into action right now; no further words needed.”

Cody sounds calm, but Obi-Wan can hear the tremor in his voice.

“Cuffs and gag off?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“Gag out?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. He does want this, but he’s not used to getting what he wants. He wants to talk about it, make sure Cody and the others are truly into this. But then he realizes they already have and that they already are. He’s gagged and bound exactly because they all want this.

Again, he shakes his head.

“Do you want this?”

Obi-Wan nods, and Cody sighs in relief.

“Your signal is three taps, or destroying anything with the Force. Does that still work?”

Obi-Wan nods again.

“Great, we have a couple of mugs on the table just for that purpose. They’re already chipped, so no worries about smashing them if you need to. Now, just me, or do you want all of us?”

Obi-Wan stares at him, one eyebrow raised, until Cody realizes his mistake.

“Ah, right.” He colors slightly, scrubbing at the back of his head with his hand. “Uh, all of us?”

Obi-Wan hesitates once more, but again nods. He loves Cody. He loves his men. And he wants.

Cody’s smile is tinged with relief.

“That’s good. I think the others would kill me if they got left out.”

Obi-Wan snorts, nodding in agreement.

“Water?”

Obi-Wan nods again, and Cody produces a very odd-looking bottle. Obi-Wan realizes why it’s shaped the way it is when Cody clicks it into place on the rim of his gag.

“Suck,” Cody says. Obi-Wan can’t help but moan at the command, his situation suddenly making itself much clearer than before. He’s bound, gagged, and at the mercy of his men. He’s going to be fucked clear up to his limits, and maybe beyond that. And through it all, all he’ll be able to do is moan and scream and drool and whine.

He shudders as he starts sucking, water flooding into the gag’s holes. He swallows deeply, tongue working against the cock in a mimicry of his usual blowjob technique.

“That’s it,” Cody croons, petting his hair gently. “Sucking it so well. So good for me, Gen…Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan moans at that, can’t help it. He never wanted to be a general. Never wanted to lead people to war again. But to be called his name is a kindness he can’t help but feel deeply.

“Shall I call the others?” Cody asks as he unhooks the bottle once Obi-Wan has drank half of it down and signaled he’s done.

Obi-Wan nods once again, then taps his ear.

Cody gives him a look of surprise, then his grin turns lascivious. “So you’d like me to talk for once? Okay then.”

He taps at his vambrace, some prearranged signal going out. He pulls it off then, setting it off to the side somewhere.

Then he taps at the gag, slipping his fingers inside the hollow space and wiggling the dildo around in Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan whines around it, wanting to tell Cody to stop teasing him, to fuck him, but he can’t.

“The famed Negotiator. Hard to speak when that silver tongue is wrapped around a cock, isn’t it?” Cody murmurs. “It’s what it should be doing at all times. You shouldn’t be making big speeches or honeying your words for some politician who doesn’t give two shits. Instead, you should be sucking our cocks, letting that sweet tongue pull every bit of cum out of us. This is where you do your best work, Obi-Wan. Vos let us know what your tongue is really good for. And while we’d definitely like to test that out for ourselves, I think a little training is a good place to start. After all, we’ve got to work you up to taking us. Don’t want you to choke.”

Obi-Wan briefly wonders whether he’ll have to kill Quinlan when they next see one another, or whether he’ll have to buy his drinks for the rest of their lives. Instead of dwelling on it, Obi-Wan whimpers as the door opens, and vod start crowding into the room. Before he can start counting how many, the blindfold slips back over his eyes. A moment later, the blanket is pulled back, exposing him to the warm air and to hungry eyes he can’t see (but can feel on him all the same).

“Remember your signal,” Cody whispers in his ear. “We can stop at any time.”

Obi-Wan moans an affirmative, and then there are dozens of hands on him. Without his sight, his sense of touch is attuned more intensely to every brush against him. The hands stroke down his sides and back and chest. Blaster-callused fingers start pinching his nipples, twisting them and pulling them away from his body. Others rub through his chest hair, spiking it up the wrong way before patting it down.

Hands delve between his thighs, spreading them apart but leaving his rapidly hardening cock alone.

He’s making noises through the gag, but they aren’t intelligible commands, so they’re ignored.

All he can do is take this. All he has to do is take this.

It sets something loose in his head, something free in his chest, and he sinks into the lust that’s permeated the Force.

This is what he’d wanted when he’d signed that agreement scribbled out on flimsi. The freedom to not have to make a choice for once, to only have to feel and be good for people who want to take care of him, who…who love him, just as he loves them in return.

“So good for us,” someone says.

“Perfect,” says another. He could figure out who in the Force, or even just from their tone modulation, but he doesn’t have to. All he needs to do is take in the praise and follow their commands.

“On your knees, Obi-Wan. Need to get you all slicked up for us.” Hands slip around his hips and chest, helping him get to his knees. The pillow previously tucked between them gets slipped under his hips, while another one is pushed under his chest, just below his pectorals. His still cuffed wrists slide under the pillow his head is resting on.

A hand unclips his ankles but leaves them cuffed. Other hands spread his legs out wider, tilting his hips down and his ass up.

“He looks so good like that.”

“Bet we won’t even need lube after the first few rounds.”

“But you’ll use it anyways,” comes a stern warning, and Obi-Wan snorts because Patches’ voice is unmistakable. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. We’re still going to wreck that hole of yours. You’ll be so relaxed we’ll probably be able to get two cocks stuffed up inside of you. And then we’ll use bacta on you, so you close up all nice and tight again. Maybe we’ll even fuck it into you. I bet that tingling will feel good for both of us.”

Obi-Wan can’t help whining at the thought. He’s never had bacta inside of him before (outside of a tank, which he’s usually sedated for).

“Med-i-cal kink!” someone sing-songs, followed by a a sharp yelp.

“There’ll be no kink shaming here. Besides, that sounds hot as fuck.”

“Lube.” The sharp command is followed by the click of a cap, then there are hands on him again. The touches are soothing as they trace down the tense muscles of his shoulders, his quivering flanks, and back again, occasionally stopping to rub at a knot or pinch lightly.

And then there are wet fingers at his hole, and he’s tensing again, unable to help it. It’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, to say nothing of the…of the orgy he’s agreed to.

“Shhh,” Cody says, and he can always tell it’s Cody, even when he’s not trying. “So good for us. Just relax. Going to make you feel so good. You’ll make us feel so good too, won’t you, Obi-Wan?”

He nods against the pillow, a little frantically, because he will. His men deserve so much better than they’ve gotten. He wants to give them everything, but all he has is himself. And he knows that’s not enough.

He doesn’t realize the room has gone silent. Not until he breaks it as he lets out a gasping moan through the gag as a hand runs firmly down his spine.

“Are you with us, Obi-Wan?”

And he hadn’t been. He hums softly. He has a feeling this wasn’t what Qui-Gon meant when he kept telling Obi-Wan to stay in the here and now, but it’s an effective enough lesson.

Recentering himself in the moment, he nods.

“Good. Stay with us. If you’re thinking about datawork or something, we’re not doing our jobs.”

Obi-Wan snorts, but relaxes back into the pillows and the touches.

A wet finger slips inside him, and he moans a little as it moves around before sliding deeper. A second soon follows, stretching him bit by bit. All the while, the hands keep moving over him. His nipples, hanging free in the space between two pillows, become favorite toys. He’d known he was sensitive, but the feeling of them being tugged and twisted keeps shooting straight to his cock.

His cock, which is possibly harder than it has ever been, curves up into the pillow under his hips.

“He’s hard for us.”

“Mmm, I can’t blame him. Look at how well his hole takes those fingers.”

“He’s going to look even prettier mounted on our cocks.”

Obi-Wan whines as the fingers graze his prostate.

“Ooo, do that again. His dick just twitched hard.”

The fingers do as the voices requested, rubbing at the firm tissue inside him. It jolts him forward again, a gasp bursting out of the gag.

“Should we get him a cock ring, or are we trying to milk him dry?”

Bucking against the fingers, Obi-Wan can’t decide which he’d prefer. But it’s not up to him. He doesn’t have to respond, even if he did have the answer.

“We could always do both.”

“Which is kinder? Making him cum until he’s cumming dry or edging him until he’s about to burst?”

“I say we edge him with a ring on until he’s taken a few of our loads, then make him cum so hard he passes out.”

“I think he’d like that. Put that vaunted Jedi patience to the test.”

“And he needs to kriffing relax!” There’s laughter after that, and Obi-Wan finds himself melting into the pillows. This is what he’s missed about sex. The pleasure, yes, but the fun most of all.

Apparently, his relaxing is a cue because there’s a fourth finger slipping easily into him.

“Krrrking,” he manages around the gag, some jumbled mashup of ‘kriffing’ and ‘kark.’ It nets him several chuckles, and the fingers in his ass starting to slip in and out of him a little faster.

“I think he’s definitely up for it. Wooley, fetch me that ring.”

“Can I put it on him?”

“Go ahead.”

The feeling of fingers on his cock is electric after all the touches so far have failed to even graze him there. He whimpers around the gag, wrapping his tongue around the head to try to encourage his lovers to do more. It takes him a very long moment to remember that they can’t tell what he’s doing.

There’s the slick sounds of lube squirting out, and then there’s a ring sliding up over his cock. He wants to cum, nearly does, but fingers seize around the base of his erection and squeeze, interrupting him.

“I think he’s a little sensitive.”

“If we let him, I bet he’d go off like a plasma cannon.”

“He’s packing a good-sized weapon as is,” someone comments, snorting in laughter. There’s the sound of a hand meeting flesh, and Obi-Wan figures someone just got slapped upside the head. “What?! It’s a compliment!”

The ring continues its descent. Once at the base, Wooley carefully stuffs his right testicle, then his left through the ring. Wooley runs his finger around the circumference of it, then jerks Obi-Wan’s cock three times.

“Someone check in with him on whether this is good.”

The fingers leave his ass, and the only touch keeping him grounded is against his shoulders, keeping him from rocking too far up the bed.

“Obi-Wan,” someone asks softly. They lightly tap his cheek until he turns in their general direction. “We’ve put a ring on you so we can keep the fun going. I want you to make a noise if, and only if, it feels alright. If it’s too tight, or uncomfortable, keep quiet and we’ll take it off or readjust it. Now, how does it feel?”

And he can answer that. It’s easy. He likes it when things are easy, and he can make people happy. The ring is tight, yes, but it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t pinch or really cause too much discomfort either, aside from the fact that he now knows he can’t cum even if he wants to.

So, he makes an approving noise, one that others might charitably call a slutty moan.

“Ooooh, kriff. Yes, he’s good. Are you ready to fuck him yet?”

“Yes, I’ve got him stretched out. Get him on his back, yeah?”

Hands tug at Obi-Wan until he tips gracefully over onto his side. Then he’s being rolled further. There’s a flurry of movement at his side, and he realizes it was someone (or multiple someones) rearranging the pillows as he’s tugged up and over onto them. He ends up with his head in someone’s lap, a roll of cloth (maybe a shirt?) pillowing his neck from where their legs are crossed.

“Get his hands.” There’s a soft clink of durasteel, and then his hands, still cuffed, are pulled up above his head, ending up tucked against a warm set of bare abs. His legs end up dangling over the edge of the bed, with his lower back propped up so he’s at an angle.

An angle to be fucked. He’s about to be fucked, more than once, by more than one person. By people he cares about, who care about him in return. Who are letting him be something other than their commanding officer, or a Jedi Council member, or the Negotiator. Who are letting him be their toy, their happy plaything, their slut. He lets out a giddy little sound at the thought, swallowing around the gag after he does.

“Man, that’s pretty. We should take holos next time.”

Next time. Obi-Wan shivers at that. They already want more. He’s done so well just laying there that they already want more.

“Think he’ll keep all our cum inside him, or leak it all out?”

“Depends on how stuffed we keep him, I think. Could always plug him up between us.”

“I want to stuff him so full you can’t even see these abs,” someone says as they trace their fingers over his abdominals. His cock twitches at the mental picture, but orgasm is stymied by the ring once again. “Ooo, I think he likes that idea. You’d look so beautiful, Obi-Wan.”

“He’s blushing!”

And curse his Stewjoni complexion for letting that tooka out of the bag. Ah well.

“If you’re all done?” Cody, always commanding, asks the room at large. “Obi-Wan, still good?”

Obi-Wan nods, and the person whose lap he’s in starts playing with his hair.

There’s a slight hesitation, and then Cody asks, “I’d like us to look at one another when we do this the first time. Can we remove the blindfold?”

Obi-Wan pauses, mulling it over. There’s a difference between knowing there are eyes on him and seeing those eyes. But he also wants to see Cody. Wants to know that he’s bringing him pleasure. Wants to know what Cody looks like when he falls apart.

He nods.

“Close your eyes.”

Obi-Wan does, and a moment later, the blindfold is slipped off his head. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment, taking in the amount of light in the room (dim, but not dark). Then he opens his eyes and looks down.

Cody is standing between his legs, hands planted on the bed over Obi-Wan’s thighs, caging him in. He glances back, and sees he’s in Waxer’s lap. Boil is at his right, hand on his shoulder, while Gregor has his other side. He knows there are others in the room, but once he locks eyes with Cody, he can’t find it in himself to look away.

“There you are,” Cody murmurs, hands moving to Obi-Wan’s thighs and stroking up and down. Sensation skitters through him as his leg hair is mussed up and then smoothed. Obi-Wan whines, hips bucking before he can think of how desperately needy the move makes him look. “I think you wanted this, but didn’t know how to ask. Didn’t know you could ask. But all you have to do is let us know and we’ll do anything we can for you. Just like you always do for us.”

Cody pauses, steeling himself for something. “You can still back out at any time. Do you want to?”

And Obi-Wan stays silent and still, because he’s never wanted to back out on anything less in his life.

Relaxing, Cody runs his hands up Obi-Wan’s thighs a bit more teasingly.

“That’s good. So good. So good for me. So good for us. Now just relax.”

With a step forward, Cody’s hard cock presses against Obi-Wan’s hole. The earlier stretching means the thick head pops in with minimal difficulty, an action that makes him throw his head back and moan noisily.

“Told you he’d be loud.”

But Obi-Wan can’t concentrate on that. Instead, he’s lasered in on the slow, steady push of Cody inside him. Cody drives into him with purpose, just like everything else he does. Obi-Wan chokes a bit as the younger man bottoms out, leaving him pleasantly full in a way he hasn’t been in years.

“Wooley, Barlex, get his legs.”

The two in question snag his bound ankles, keeping his legs splayed apart but bending them up towards his chest.

“Remember your signals, Obi-Wan,” Cody says, and Obi-Wan nods, shivering at hearing Cody’s commands directed at him for once.

And then Cody slides out of him before pressing in again, slowly. Obi-Wan groans, and then the hands not holding his arms or his legs in place descend on him again. Boil and Gregor, apparently discontent with just touching, start licking and sucking at his nipples, which feel as hard as durasteel and keep sending jolts of pleasure down to his groin. Barlex takes the initiative to start toying with the head of his cock, rubbing it with his free hand and occasionally dipping a fingernail into the slit. Not to be outdone, Wooley starts trailing his fingers up and down Obi-Wan’s shaft, spreading the precum that’s started dripping down the sides.

All the while, Cody keeps kriffing him at a pace reminiscent of some of their marching rhythms. Obi-Wan finds himself entirely bemused when he realizes Cody is chanting one of their marching songs under his breath, keeping in perfect time with it.

It doesn’t last though. Either Cody’s patience breaks (and Obi-Wan likes to think that the sight and feel of him writhing around helped) or he just loses his rhythm, because he starts slamming into Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can’t help but squeal as Cody’s thrusts seem to target his prostate more often than not.

He arches his back, but the hands and mouths on him bear him back down to the bed.

“That’s it,” Cody huffs out between thrusts. “That’s it. Take it just like that. Going to fill you up so full of pleasure and our cum that you won’t ever want to leave. Don’t even have to say a word. We’re going to give you what you want. What you need.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t bother to muffle his scream since the gag does it for him. Cody slams into him and stays there, and Obi-Wan fancies that he can feel his cock twitching in his ass.

“So good,” Cody gasps, hunching forward and rabbiting his hips a little like he can get deeper inside. “So good.”

He finally stops moving, breathing hard.

“You good, vod?” Patches asks.

Cody’s answering grin is fierce, and it makes something inside Obi-Wan burn just a little hotter. “Better than. Wooley, you’re up.”

Wooley places Obi-Wan’s leg back on the bed, and abandons his stroking of Obi-Wan’s cock to get to his feet. Gregor bites lightly at his nipple, and the distraction works perfectly to keep him from paying attention as Wooley and Cody start to switch places. But he definitely notices when Cody’s cock withdraws, and Wooley’s slides in a beat later.

“Kriff, he’s so wet. You soaked him inside, Cody.”

“You’ll see why when you start kriffing him.”

“Can already feel it. You’re so tight, Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan startles a bit at being addressed. Without realizing it, he’d sort of settled into the thought that he was here for their pleasure. “Kark, just got tighter.”

“I think he’s feeling neglected, boys,” Cody says, taking over Wooley’s stroking of his cock. Cody’s touch is firmer though, closer to the grip Obi-Wan uses on himself. “And that’s not happening on our watch.”

“Patches, what’s going to feel best for him next?” Wooley asks, taking the same slow starting approach Cody did.

“Hmm, we should probably let him cum soon. Maybe after two or three more. I bet you’ll like that, Obi-Wan. All wet and dripping with our cum, being so good until we remove your ring and you cum as much as you can.”

Obi-Wan whimpers, partly at the view into his future, and partly because Wooley has started nailing his prostate dead-on.

“Not gonna last,” Wooley pants out.

“Told you his hole was good,” Cody says. “Isn’t it, Obi-Wan? Such a cock-hungry hole, just for us.”

“Kark, please keep talking to him like that. He gets so much tighter.”

Obi-Wan knew that. He’d discovered his love of dirty talk early on, primarily with Quinlan (who had a mouth filthier than a Hutt). He started out being the one to talk, since so many partners expected it of him, but it was so nice to be on the receiving end. It was filthy and perfect.

“Oh, you do like that, don’t you, sweetheart? Being such a good little slut with your legs spread wide. I bet you’re so ready for your cock to just burst, but you’re going to wait until we tell you that you can cum, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan gasps around the gag, almost choking on it. He has no idea where Cody learned to talk like this, but he makes a mental note to find out and get him access to more.

“Fuuuuuck,” Wooley moans, hips stuttering as he cums inside Obi-Wan.

“I’m going to check your hole,” Patches says, pulling on a glove and lubing it up before Wooley has even withdrawn. “Make sure our nice, thick cocks aren’t tearing you. Maybe make you a little messier with some lube to go with that cum.”

Whining as Wooley pulls out, Obi-Wan barely has time to take a breath before Patches has stuffed two fingers inside him. Boil and Gregor pull away from his chest, leaving him aching in more spots than one.

“They’re doing a nice job stretching you out. And you’re very wet inside. Maybe we will be able to stuff you full.”

“Pl-ase,” Obi-Wan manages. He shoves back against Patches’ fingers as much as he can, still pinned down by hands and mouths. Patches obliges by fucking him slowly with his fingers, occasionally adding more lube.

“You know,” Gregor says, “I’m really hoping we get to do this again, without the gag. Bet you beg pretty.”

“Hmm, true,” Boils says. “But I like the little noises you make. Better than any black market holoporn we’ve ever scrounged up.”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and Obi-Wan feels like all the blood that’s not making his cock harder than durasteel flushes his pale skin red.

“Never figured you for the shy type,” Waxer says.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s shyness,” Cody says, all matter of fact. “Maybe some embarrassment that we’ve got him figured out this well.”

“He did help with the initial fantasy,” Barlex points out. “We definitely need to give the boys running the still some more ingredients, because that led to this.” He holds out his hand, gesturing around the room. Obi-Wan follows the motion, realizing for the first time that there are seven members of the 212th in here with him. That they’re all naked. That he’s likely to be fucked at least five more times, if not more.

His hips rise on instinct, wanting to be fucked again immediately even with Patches’ fingers doing an admirable job of keeping him full.

“Who’s up? I think he needs a cock in him right this second.”

“My turn,” Barlex says, sounding practically gleeful. “Been dreaming about this.”

“Yes, we’ve all seen the fresher after your ‘dreams,’” Boil snarks.

“Can’t help that I’m a superior specimen when it comes to cum production.”

Wooley takes Barlex’s spot, pushing Obi-Wan’s leg up and back again. His expression is practically dreamy, eyes hazy with afterglow.

“You felt so amazing inside,” he whispers to Obi-Wan, stroking up and down his leg. Obi-Wan shifts at the pressure and the odd sensation of his leg hairs being tugged. “Like you were trying to pull me in further.”

“I think you like having something inside you,” Cody says to Obi-Wan at normal volume, patting his stomach. “Keeping you all nice and full and warm.”

Barlex obviously takes that for a cue, pressing in on one slow, inexorable slide. He bottoms out and stays there, and Obi-Wan whines as the others stop moving too.

“P---se,” he manages to get out. He tries to press into the hands on him, but they lift away when he does. “Pl---e!”

“Some pretty sweet begging,” Waxer says. “I think we should reward him.”

“You’re right,” Cody says. “He does deserve a reward.”

And at some signal Obi-Wan doesn’t see, Gregor, Boil, and Cody all bend over his body. Gregor and Boil return to abusing his stiff, sore nipples with their teeth and tongues. But Cody sucks the head of his cock into his mouth and starts lapping at him like he’s the most delicious thing Cody has ever tasted.

Obi-Wan screams, and only stops when Barlex starts fucking him like a plasma cannon; powerful thrusts that shake his body just as much as the barrel recoiling after firing. Breath stolen and strength failed, Obi-Wan drops back down to the bed.

He wants to cum. He wants Barlex to cum. He wants every man in this room to paint his entire body with their cum and stuff him full until he’s nothing but pleasure. He wants to dive into the Force and roll around in the lust and pleasure, the brilliant gold of it perfectly matching the 212th's colors.

And he can have it all, because they’ll give it to him.

He relaxes into the thrusts, the sucking pressure on his nipples and cock, the pinching, the soothing fingers against his hair and sides. Sinks into the pleasure a little bit in the Force, because it’s so nice to feel how good he’s making them all feel. He’s free from responsibility here. There are no lives on the line. There’s just pleasure and being good.

“That’s it,” Cody praises, switching from his mouth to his hand. “Just relax and feel for us.”

Obi-Wan thinks he grunts out an answer to that, but it’s not intelligible if he does. But they all smile indulgently at him, even Barlex, who is fucking him so hard that sweat has gathered on his brow. It’s rough, but it feels amazing. Everything feels amazing. And then Cody’s fingers drift down to the base of his cock.

Apparently, the cock ring has a latch or some sort of quick release, because it’s no longer restraining him. He’s plunged into the tight, wet heat of Cody’s mouth, and above him, still petting his hair, Waxer croons, “Cum for us, Obi-Wan. Fuck Cody’s throat and cum. I bet you feel so good right now. Making us all happy. And all you need to do to make us even happier is cum.”

Cody sucks hard just as Barlex starts to cum and Gregor and Boil bite down on Obi-Wan’s nipples. The pleasure shooting from all parts of his body run right to his groin, and he groans helplessly around the gag as his hips buck and he starts shooting down Cody’s throat.

Waxer doesn’t stop talking, even when Obi-Wan can barely hear him over the static pleasure has forced into his ears. “Such a sweet thing, cumming so hard. You deserve that kind of pleasure all the time. Even without words, you still know just the right noises to make to make us cum. I can’t wait to feel those noises around my cock when you start sucking us. A talented tongue like yours, I bet you’ll have us cumming in no time flat.”

Obi-Wan whimpers. He could do that. He wants to do that. He trembles as an aftershock hits him, Cody still sucking on him like he intended to drain Obi-Wan dry.

“I think his nipples have a hard line to his cock,” Gregor muses, wiping at his mouth as he sits up. In demonstration, he flicks the nipple he’s been abusing for the past…however long. Obi-Wan can’t help but jump and buck, keening as the movement presses Barlex just that little bit deeper.

“Agreed,” Boil says. “Wish ours were this sensitive.”

“You could go to Pierce, like I’ve been telling you to,” Waxer says, hands still carding through Obi-Wan’s hair.

“So could you.”

“I’m not the one talking about his nipples.”

“Annnnd we’re getting off track,” Patches chimes in. Obi-Wan turns his bleary eyes around, seeking out the other man. He hasn’t sat down the entire time, and Obi-Wan can’t decide if it’s amusing or arousing that he’s observing the proceedings. Oddly enough, it does make him feel safe. “Cody, give him a little bit of a break. I don’t think he can get more than half-hard right now.”

Cody pulls off his cock with a loud pop! that makes Obi-Wan whine.

“Still,” Cody says, and his voice is a little bit raspier than normal.  “Pretty good refractory.”

‘I made him sound like that,’ Obi-Wan thinks, thoughts remarkably giddy. It briefly occurs to him he’s in an altered state, but he knows he wasn’t and hasn’t been drugged, so this is all the result of what’s been done to him, what his fantasy has led to. ‘Me!’

“Pretty good,” Patches agrees. “I think when Barlex pulls out, we should flip him over.”

“Same as his prep position?” Gregor asks with interest. “Because I’d be up for kriffing him like that.”

“Yep,” Patches says. “Figure it’ll be good for keeping our cum inside him. And it’ll give him a little more range of motion. Sound good, Obi-Wan? You’ve been squirming so hard on all these cocks that I figure you just want to bounce on one like the good little slut you are.”

Obi-Wan whines again, helpless against the onslaught. Apparently wherever Cody had learned dirty talk, the others had too.

“Kriffing yes,” Barlex says. “He just about crushed my deece when you said that.”

“So responsive,” Waxer coos.

“Should we plug him for the flip?” Patches asks.

“Nah,” Gregor says, giving his nipple one last flick before clambering off the bed. “I can be quick about getting inside him.”

“And we can always fuck more cum inside you, Obi-Wan,” Cody says, smiling in a way that’s both comforting and sends bolts of lust ricocheting through Obi-Wan’s system.

He hums happily in response.

“Alright, we’ll flip on three. Barlex, pull back and give us the count.”

“Got it.” Obi-Wan hears Barlex take a few deep breaths, grinding inside him as he does, before he pulls his cock out and rattles off, “One, two, three, flip!”

The hands on him push, and pull, and rearrange him until he’s back on his spread-apart knees, feet hanging over the edge of the bed, forehead pressed against the rolled-up blacks in Waxer’s lap, and still cuffed hands pinned underneath him. The pillow is back under his chest, although he can’t help the mewling he lets out as his nipples rub against the stiff, sturdy fabric of the pillowcase.

And then Gregor is sliding into him with almost no friction at all, gliding in on lube and three loads of cum.

“Ooo yeah. That’s kriffing amazing. Like he’s gripping my cock.”

He starts a steady, rocking rhythm. Obi-Wan finds himself following it, pushing back onto Gregor’s cock as much as Gregor is pushing into him. He shudders a little, almost faltering as the hands return to stroking him.

“You didn’t think we forgot you, did you?” Boil says, massaging the taut, bowed line of his back. “Nah, we’re not even close to through with you yet.”

Obi-Wan shudders again, in pleasure rather than shock this time. Waxer is still playing with his hair, although he’s shifted to lightly tugging on it as much as he’s stroking it. Obi-Wan tries to keep up with swallowing, but the gag means he starts dripping saliva onto the blacks beneath him. He whines when Waxer shifts a bit as a strand of drool rolls over his ankle.

“Don’t you worry,” Waxer croons. “When you take our cocks in that pretty mouth, we won’t mind if you drool then either. If fact, we’ll keep that pretty mouth so full you’ll have to drool, even as you try to drink it all down. Wonder if we can get our cocks all the way into your throat. Would be nice to put my hand around your throat and feel me fucking into it.”

Obi-Wan isn’t the only one to groan at that particular fantasy.

“Sithspit,” Patches curses. “Now that’s an image.”

“One for future dreams,” Barlex says from beyond Obi-Wan’s sightline.

Obi-Wan shifts, trying to rub his rapidly hardening cock against the pillow he’s leaned against. And then there’s a hand around him again, forming a tight, lube-slick tunnel for him to fuck into.

“There you go,” Cody says softly, and Obi-Wan ruts a little harder.

Cody’s got him. Cody always has him.

Cody starts moving in counter to Gregor’s measured pace, and Obi-Wan hiccups behind the gag at the maddening switch from one pleasure to another and back again.

Someone nips at the join between his neck and left shoulder, and Obi-Wan has to make a genuine effort to keep from coming on the spot.

“Awww,” someone says, disappointment clear. “I was sure that would get him off.”

He wants to reassure them, but all he can do is drool and moan a little more.

“From the way his cock twitched, I think it was close. Bite him again. And Obi-Wan?”

He lifts his head a little, wanting to show he’s paying attention even though he can’t tell who’s talking.

“I’m pretty sure we told you we were going to have you cumming until you were dry. You better start now.”

Cody’s hand tightens and engulfs his shaft at the same time Gregor rams into him, and then there are teeth in his neck again, not biting hard enough to break skin, but enough to spark his orgasm with pyroclastic fury.

He screams again, vision going blurry and dark around the edges as pleasure swamps him like a wave. Gregor lights up in the Force behind him, his own pleasure cresting and crashing down on Obi-Wan almost as harshly as his own.

When he blinks back to something like awareness, he feels hazy and boneless, like the ability of his muscles to hold tension has fled his body along with another load of cum.

“There you are,” Waxer says, pressing into the thin skin of his cheeks to stroke at the phallic gag resting on his tongue. “They’ve done such a good job fucking you, and you’ve done such a good job being fucked.”

He whines, wanting more without even knowing what it is he wants.

Just…more.

And he gets it a moment later when another cock spreads his hole open wide. Wantonly moaning, he squirms backwards as much as he can. He’s sore, but the endorphins dull the edge of his discomfort.

“Yesss,” Boil hisses, and Obi-Wan is amused that he sounds roughly like his chosen name.

“Good, isn’t he?” Gregor hums.

“Good,” Boil agrees.

“Wonder if we’ve stretched him out enough to fit both of us,” Waxer muses. Obi-Wan’s eyes snap up to him, and Waxer grins. “Bet you’d look gorgeous that way, mounted on both of us, only able to take what we give you.”

“Maybe next time,” Cody says. “Make it a main event that we work up to.”

Obi-Wan relaxes again, even if the idea had been attractive. It wasn’t something they’d discussed in detail, and he’s not sure if he’d be able to manage it. But maybe…later.

“Fair enough,” Waxer says easily. “Patches, is it you or me next?”

“Mmm, I’ll check him after Boil finishes. If he’s good, we can play Blaster, Vibroknife, Bucket for who goes first.”

“Works for me,” Waxer says. He lets go of Obi-Wan’s cheeks in favor of slipping a few fingers into the hollow portion of the gag. “Oooo, this is going to be such a good hole to fuck. So very wet.”

“Wait ‘til you get his ass, Wax. Never thought I’d enjoy sloppy fifths, but he’s so soft and wet inside.”

Obi-Wan starts panting, his thoughts growing fuzzier each time they switch between addressing him directly and treating him like a treasured sex toy.

“Do you need some water, dear one?”

He shudders at hearing his own endearment directed at himself. For all that he feels like he’s practically drowning the gag in spit, he’s also feeling a bit parched from all the moaning and screaming. He nods.

“Boil, you can pull out or stay in, but don’t move while we get him so water.”

“Not sure why this happened on my turn,” Boil grumbles, but thrusts in and stops moving. An arm is laid across his lower back, pinning him. Two sets of hands tug him up from Waxer’s lap, and Cody’s hands once again stroke his cheeks before clicking the gag’s water bottle into place. He sucks at it eagerly, feeling the liquid wash over his tongue and soothe his throat. He drains half the bottle before Patches makes a noise.

“Easy there. Don’t want him to choke.”

“Right.” Cody unhooks the bottle, and Obi-Wan lets his head hang forward, the excess water dripping from the gag onto the sheets in front of him. He shuts his eyes, taking the moment to re-center himself (as much as he can with Boil pressed directly into his prostate). “You good?”

Obi-Wan evaluates himself, a field assessment he’s developed over years. He’s sore, yes. He’s not currently hard, but he has a feeling that being fucked at least twice more will likely push him over the ledge into orgasm. He’s a little hungry and tired, but nothing he hasn’t pushed through before. The musky scent of sex is thick in the air, almost cloyingly so, but he sucks in a few deep lungfuls of it anyways.

He lifts his head, catching Gregor, Waxer, Wooley, and then Cody’s eyes. He nods.

“Remember your signals,” Cody reminds him. “Three taps if you can use your hands, or destroy something with the Force.”

Obi-Wan nods again, and the hands ease him back into Waxer’s lap.

“You know, I’m excited for the stuff on the flimsi around the Force,” Gregor says, grin evident in his voice. “Think he really can fuck us all with the Force while he’s fucking one of us with his cock?”

Whining, Obi-Wan shifts against Boil, trying to get him to start kriffing him again. The thought of using the Force in such a manner was deliciously wrong (although the Force itself seemed warm and effervescent as he pictured the scenario).

“We’ve seen you do crazier things, haven’t we, Obi-Wan?” Wooley says, having apparently recovered from his earlier orgasmic stupor. “Although I’m still going to prep myself before I let something incorporeal kark my ass.”

“Yeah, pretty sure we’ll be doing more than just a little lube if we actually pull that off,” Patches said. “Although I heard Fab down in Engineering might have come up with a way to print some toys we could start our ‘experiments’ with.”

“Conversation for another time then,” Gregor says. “You gonna kriff him, Boil?”

“I’m savoring,” Boil snarks. “His ass keeps clenching the more all of us talk to him and about him.”

Obi-Wan moans, because it’s true.

“Just like that, just like that,” Boil says, and starts thrusting into him once again. Obi-Wan lets his limbs go slack, once more relaxing into the thrusts and letting himself drift in the pleasure. “So good for us. So. Damn. Good.”

It’s not long after that that Boil cums with a vehement curse. He withdraws, only to grab both of Obi-Wan’s asscheeks and spread him open for inspection.

“Kriffing hell. He’s a mess. You’re a mess, Obi-Wan. Hole all puffy and leaking our cum. But you’re going to be good and close up for us, right? Make it nice and tight for Waxer and Patches, and maybe you’ll get a treat.”

Obi-Wan tries, flexing as much as he can. He whimpers as he feels his hole flutter, then practically cries as Patches slides two gloved and lubed fingers into him.

“Definitely puffy inside and out,” Patches says, and it would be clinical if he didn’t sound so breathless. “And we’re probably nearing the limits of his endurance.”

He tries to protest that, but Patches is probably right. He’s ignored at any rate.

“Waxer, you ready to play?”

Waxer’s hands leave Obi-Wan’s hair, and he whines in protest, but that’s ignored too.

“You gonna keep your fingers in him?”

“I only need one hand to play,” Patches retorts. “And like you wouldn’t keep your fingers in him if you were in my spot. Now, Blaster, Vibroknife, Bucket, shoot!”

“Haha! Vibroknife beats Bucket,” Waxer crows.

“You always choose Bucket, you di’kut!” Gregor admonishes.

“Well, Bucket tends to keep you morons from dying! Of course I pick it most often!” There’s a chorus of cooing. “Shut you, you jerks! Wax, how do you want him?”

“Riding me while he’s still got any strength left in those thighs.” Obi-Wan moans. He’s not sure he has any strength left, not after two orgasms and glutting himself on everyone’s pleasure in the Force. “Of course, you may have to help him ride. I doubt you’d be opposed to that, would you, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, as much as he’s able.

“Help him up,” Cody says.

Hands carefully guide him into sitting up, and Patches pulls his fingers free. Obi-Wan whines as he feels cum and lube start to drip out of his hole and down his thighs. Waxer throws the rolled-up blacks off to the side, shuffling down on the bed. He slips his legs between Obi-Wan’s spread knees. Obi-Wan is lifted up and moved forward, until he’s hovering over Waxer’s crotch. Someone helpfully tosses Waxer a bottle of lube, which he uses before using one hand to hold his cock steady. Obi-Wan tries to get his knees under himself, but keeps fumbling the angle.

Eventually, the others take pity on him, and hands settle on his ass, supporting him as much as spreading him.

He’s pulled gently down, practically sobbing as Waxer spears him open.

“Karking hell,” Waxer hisses. “I know none of you were lying, but…”

“Different when it’s you, huh?” Boil says, and Waxer nods.

“So hot. And wet.” Waxer reaches his hands up, flicking Obi-Wan’s nipples. Obi-Wan whimpers at the renewed stimulation, squirming on Waxer’s lap as much as he’s able. He lets his head drop forward; a bit humiliated when a long string of drool stretches down from the gag to Waxer’s chest, where his bound hands rest.

“Beautiful,” someone murmurs, and Obi-Wan feels himself flush once more. He’s also getting hard again, albeit more slowly than before. He hasn’t cum three times in a row in…a long time.

Waxer grips his hips, but the hands on his ass don’t go away. Someone comes up behind him and wraps two strong arms around his chest.

“We’ll help you,” Cody whispers in his ear, and Obi-Wan shudders.

Between the four of them (he realizes it’s Wooley and Barlex on either side of him), he’s pulled up until Waxer’s cock almost leaves his body. Then he’s slowly pushed back down, a nearly frictionless glide. He tries to help, but there’s no need when his men have him like this.

The pace isn’t quick, not with four people having to guide him, but it’s more perfect because of it. He feels Waxer’s every move inside him, every scrape of his shaft against his slick, puffy, fucked-out hole.

Gregor and Boil take up posts around Waxer’s head. Occasionally, they reach out to flick at Obi-Wan’s nipples, or stroke his chest, or drag fingernails down his trembling thighs. They ignore his cock and balls, and he can’t tell if he’s grateful or resentful of that fact.

All the while, he moans softly, swallowing around the gag when he can and letting the drool drip from it when he can’t.

“Any chance of picking up the pace?” Waxer asks.

“Slow and steady moves the frontline,” Barlex quips.

Waxer gives him an annoyed huff.

“I know that! But I want Patches to be able to have a turn before he falls asleep.”

“Him getting some sleep and me fucking him are not mutually exclusive, vod.”

Obi-Wan whines a bit at that, and he sees Patches grin at him from out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine,” Cody says. “He’ll be insufferable otherwise.”

And Obi-Wan isn’t really sure whether Cody is referring to Patches, Waxer, or him.

“Double-time!”

Obi-Wan flails out his hands as he’s lifted much more swiftly and dropped down just as fast. They land back on Waxer’s chest, slipping in the puddle of drool that’s accumulated there. Obi-Wan pats at it a bit, but only ends up smearing it further. And then he can’t really focus on anything but the hands on him and the cock inside him, pushing him further and further towards a peak that he can’t quite believe he’ll reach.

Barlex and Gregor both reach out and pinch his nipples hard at the same time, leading him to clench his tired muscles down as much as he can on Waxer.

It’s enough, because the other man lets out a harsh wheeze, grips his hips tight, and bounces him on his cock one, two, three more times before cumming hard. Obi-Wan doesn’t follow him into orgasm, although he does ride the cresting waves of pleasure that spill out of Waxer and into the Force.

Waxer grinds into him, bouncing him a few more times, before he pats Obi-Wan’s hips and smiles beatifically at him.

“Perfect,” he says, then, “Patches, he’s ready.”

“Get him on his side. I’ll take him from behind after I get him prepped.”

“What do you mean ‘prep…,’ ohhhhh,” Wooley says, and Obi-Wan spares a brief thought to whatever Patches is doing behind his back. But he can’t muster the energy for concern, and the Force is languid around him, so he knows it’s nothing that’s a threat. And it’s his men. They’d never willingly hurt him (unless he asked, and that’s a thought for another time – although he’s not sure that’s something he’d ever want or ever want them to do. They deserve so much more than solely being used to destroy).

“Yep. Now move him into position. I’ve been waiting for this for hours.”

Obi-Wan starts a little at that. It’s felt like both minutes and forever that he’s been here, suspended in a little warm bubble of ecstasy.

Waxer’s cock slips out of him before he can be moved, and he whines at the loss of it. Carefully, he’s pulled up and over Waxer, then laid down at the man’s right side.

“Leaking cum all over, baby,” Patches says. “And so stretched out. But don’t you worry. I’m going to fix that.”

Obi-Wan starts forward slightly when, instead of fingers or a cock in his ass, there’s something that feels like a cone pressing inside him. And he abruptly realizes it’s a nozzle when something cool starts pumping into his ass.

Bacta.

Just like he promised, Patches is pumping him full of bacta.

Groaning, he reaches a hand down to his stomach, pressing his still cuffed hands against the taut flesh and imagining he can feel the sloshing of six loads of cum, lots of lube, and now, bacta.

The tingling starts up immediately, and he can’t help rocking into the syringe, even as someone shifts a pillow under his head and someone else slips one between his knees.

“He’s so hard it looks painful.”

“Going to need bacta for his nipples too.”

“Beautiful though. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him this relaxed.”

“Still good, Obi-Wan?” Cody asks, laying down in front of him and putting a hand on his cheek. Obi-Wan nods. “Remember your signals? You can stop if you’re too tired.”

Obi-Wan moves his hands up to grasp Cody’s on his cheek. Cody tenses, obviously waiting for the three taps. But Obi-Wan doesn’t want this to end, even if he’s starting to lose any thoughts beyond “good” and “yes” and “more.” Instead of tapping Cody, he brings Cody’s hand down to his stomach, pressing his fingers into him.

Cody’s eyes blow wide with lust.

“You’re all full with us, aren’t you?” he asks, and Obi-Wan nods, even though it was probably a rhetorical question. “Taking it so well. And we stuffed you good, just like you wanted. Just like you needed. Our good little slut.”

Obi-Wan moans, rocking between the syringe and Cody’s hand, Cody’s knuckles occasionally grazing the oversensitive head of his cock.

“You’re going to be good and let Patches fill you up even further, aren’t you? And then you’re going to cum again, just for us. Because we made it so good for you. Because you didn’t even have to say a word to make it happen. You just kept this sweet little gag in your mouth and whined and drooled and moaned because it was so good.”

Obi-Wan whimpers, trying to rock harder, but Cody’s hand drifts from his stomach to his hip, pinning him in place against the mattress.

“Be good just a little longer, and it’ll be worth it.”

Obi-Wan looks up at Cody, then lets his eyes drift to the others aside from Patches, who have all gathered on the makeshift bed behind Cody.

Amid the lust he can see in their gazes, there’s also pride at what they’ve done to him, genuine affection, and pleasure beyond the physical. He can read that just from their expressions, but the current of the Force reinforces it.

And he’s…happy. Genuinely happy.

He smiles as much as he can around the gag, and Cody must see it reflected in his eyes, because he smiles as well.

“So good for us,” he murmurs, and there’s a chorus of agreement in stereo.

The syringe leaves him, and Obi-Wan mourns its loss a touch loudly. Patches laughs.

“Going to give you something even better than that,” he says, and the mattress dips behind Obi-Wan. “Cody, if you’d be so kind.”

Cody’s hand drifts down Obi-Wan’s hip to his thigh, which he grasps in order to pull it up and forward, opening him up for Patches. It also leaves his leg hooked over Cody’s hip and their cocks pressed together, Cody once again rock-hard against his own length.

Patches pushes inside him a moment later. He takes his time, rocking into Obi-Wan millimeter by millimeter. All the while, the bacta tingles inside him, lighting him up from the inside out while Cody and Patches’ hands on him light him up from the outside in.

He wants to beg them to speed up, to slow down, but he can’t. His words are as pinned as his body.

Given that knowledge, he once again lets himself go lax. He can be good. He can wait. He can take what they give him.

“That’s it,” someone soothes. “So sweet like that.”

There’s a hand in his hair again, and he pushes into it like a tooka.

“I didn’t expect him to be so…cuddly.”

“Likely a mix of all the chemicals orgasm has dumped in his brain and that he probably just doesn’t get much of a chance to be cuddly during…normal activities,” Patches says, starting to kriff him slowly. The squelching sound is enough to make Obi-Wan cringe, but it seems to have the opposite effect on his companions.

“He’s sopping wet, isn’t he?”

“Filled him up good.”

“We all did.”

“How’s the bacta?”

“Tingly,” Patches says, moving a little bit faster. Bending forward, he whispers in Obi-Wan’s ear, “You’re getting tighter with every thrust.”

Obi-Wan clenches down helplessly, feeling Patches’ cock plunge into him. He shifts his hips as much as his partners will allow him to, and that slakes a tiny bit of the need that’s once again starting to come close to boiling over.

“Let us know when you’re close,” Cody says, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure whether he’s talking to him or Patches, but he nods anyways.

Cody’s answering expression is so fond Obi-Wan has to close his eyes. He wonders what it would have been like if they’d left the blindfold on. Maybe they can try it sometime. There are so many things he wants to try now that this is more than just a vague possibility. He wants to try what the others want to, wants to show them the kind of pleasure they’re granting him.

“Obi-Wan,” someone says. He struggles to open his eyes again, torn between the desire to cum and the desire to slip deep into the warmth around him that promises a blissful rest. “Stay with us, pretty one. You want to cum, yeah?”

And he does. He does want to cum. He wants to break apart into a million bits of ecstasy because there are people who will put him back together.

“Eyes on Cody, then.”

Cody leans in, pressing their sweaty foreheads together. “I’m going to stroke us together. But you’re not going to cum until Patches and I do, okay?”

Obi-Wan presses his forehead against Cody’s, nodding as much as he can.

“You’re even wet here,” Cody croons, spreading cum and precum and lube up and down their shafts as he strokes them both. Obi-Wan falters a bit as it throws off Patches’ rhythm, but the three of them are soon moving in sync again. The hand in Obi-Wan’s hair shifts to soft tugging, rather than the soft stroking that threatened to lull him to sleep.

“Puh…e?” he manages, swallowing hard against the gag to get that much out.

“Patches?”

“Close,” comes the grunted response.

“Obi-Wan?” Cody asks. Obi-Wan manages to focus on him again. Cody’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock as Patches kriffs into him hard, nailing his prostate. “Cum for us. Now!”

And he does, vision whiting out as he pumps cum over Cody’s fingers and up onto their stomachs. Cody’s pleasure floods him before he can catch his breath, and Patches’ bliss knocks him straight into a pleasurable stupor moments later.

When he wakes again, the weight against his tongue is gone. He feels heavy and languid, like he’s been curled up in a sun patch and just woken from an hours-long nap.

He tries to move and discovers several things at once. The most pressing, literally, is the plug that’s been tucked inside him.

The second is that he’s still very full; cum, lube, and bacta gurgling inside him from the pressure of the strong arm wrapped around his stomach.

And the third is that he’s surrounded on all sides by his men. He’s still pressed between Cody and Patches, but he can see Barlex and Gregor over Cody’s shoulder, and sense Boil and Waxer behind him. There’s a soft blanket draped over all of them, and he’s clean and dry.

“You’re awake,” Wooley whispers as he steps from the room’s fresher back into the room proper. “Water?”

Obi-Wan nods, unsure of his voice. Wooley disappears from sight, reappearing with a glass of water and a small plate. He comes around to the head of the mattress, knee-walking his way to Obi-Wan’s position. He helps Obi-Wan raise his head from the pillow, keeping the glass steady for him as he takes small, careful sips. Once the glass is empty, he proffers the plate, which holds a small pile of muja berries. Obi-Wan lets Wooley feed him a few, reveling in the sweetness and firmly ignoring the voice in the back of his head banging on about how he’s not an invalid and this is undignified.

Once half the pile is gone, Wooley helps Obi-Wan settle back down.

“Would you like to talk or rest? The others wanted to be awake when you woke up, but you continue to surprise us. We thought you’d be out for hours yet.”

“I…” He swallows hard, stretching his jaw. The gag has left him sore, a sensation that’s true across his body. “Rest.”

Wooley’s smile is pleased. “Good choice. Now don’t wiggle away before we all talk, okay?”

“Too full to move,” Obi-Wan says, rather than pointing out that Patches is clutching him like a stuffed toy and Cody is snuffling at his collarbone.

“Yeah, you are,” Wooley says proudly. Then, a bit more uncertain, “Did you not want to be? I can help you get to the fresher if you’re uncomfortable.”

Obi-Wan mulls it over for a moment. He is full, but no more so than if he’d had a very large meal. He has a feeling it’s mostly the bacta, but the tingling it caused earlier has faded. Now he’s just full and warm and…content.

“Later,” Obi-Wan decides. “But first thing when we get up.”

“Of course. I’ll pry Patches off you myself if I have to.”

“My hero,” Obi-Wan says dryly, and Wooley grins.

“Back to sleep with you.” He strokes a lock of hair back from Obi-Wan’s face and Obi-Wan melts a little further into the mattress at the sweetness of the gesture. Wooley takes that as a cue, and strokes his hair a few more times. “Anything else you need? That was…well, we did a lot. And Patches said to watch out for you. I mean, more than we already do.”

The innocent honesty of that statement settles over Obi-Wan like the soft blanket already draped over his body. With that feeling surrounding him, he gives the question the diligence it deserves.

“I…I think this is enough. More than, really. You’re all here with me. And we just…well. A lot. But you’re still here. And it’s warm. And you all feel so good in the Force. It’s practically purring around me.”

Wooley’s smile is virtually incandescent. “I’m glad. But you need anything, anything, and you wake one of us up. Whatever time, however small the request. Even if it’s just to talk. Do you promise?”

Obi-Wan nods, and Wooley gives him a particularly pointed glare until he adds, “I promise,” aloud.

“Good. Sleep then.”

Wooley shuffles off the mattress, disposing of the cup and plate on a table before returning to the bed, piling onto the mattress somewhere behind Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. Dipping into the Force, he can’t help but bask in the glow of peace and contentment around him.

Cody snuffles against his collarbone again, and Obi-Wan smiles down at him. Reaching out, he drapes his arm around Cody and Barlex.

He opens his mouth to say something, perhaps a “Good night” or a “Sleep well.” But he closes it again, opting to press a soft kiss to Cody’s short hair.

Sometimes, he doesn’t need words.