Chapter Text
The First of the First rang the bell signifying the end of the seventh course, the hum of conversation dipping briefly before resuming. The First Attending moved forward to clear the table of the settings and soiled plates and platters, leaving the surface bare for the eighth course while each of the guests’ personal Public Attendants moved forward bearing drinks to the House they served.
The Public Attendants themselves were marked officially as such by the plain X shaped harnesses and collars worn over their adorned body gloves, the color and decorations of which in turn denoted the House they served as well as their standing within that House.
Jango’s attention drifted to the Third House, as it had for three of the four days he’d been on this assignment. The complex negotiations required to move forward with relations on this planet were absurd, but as one of the only alternate sources for ionite outside of the Republic-regulated Bandomeer, enough need existed to create a tolerance to their local customs among offworld sects seeking regulation free access.
It was what had brought Jango here, acting as bodyguard to a Mid Rim official with an official interest in cultural curiosities, and an unofficial interest in processed ionite. He doubted his current contractor would be successful in his negotiations from his inability to control his expression, but Jango himself had already gotten the information he needed to skim some ionite for his own use.
Jango was willing to bet the surge in black market activity around ionite was also why the Jedi had sent an agent undercover, though why they’d chosen Kenobi of all the Jedi to send in was a bit of a mystery. He knew they wouldn’t have been able to alter the man’s face in such a way that would slip through the Ceremony of Purity, but why send Kenobi at all over one of their less famous representatives? (That was setting aside the question of how they’d managed to insert someone into a position to be brought along on the negotiations.)
That said, beyond Jango’s attention (which wasn’t obvious from behind the protection of his buy’ce) it did seem that Kenobi’s surprisingly effective effacement had been enough to allow his presence in the negotiations within the party of the Third House, perhaps in conjunction with the removal of the beard he’d sported in recent years on every image that floated around the holonet for those interested in news of the Senate-leashed Jedi Order.
Certainly, he looked younger without the neatly trimmed beard disguising the deep dimple at his chin or the cutglass line of his jaw, and the disguise was further aided by the close cropping of his hair in the fashion Attendants were expected to wear.
Jango supposed that he actually might not have recognized the hero of the Republic himself, if he hadn’t actually met him in roughly this same state those ten years prior.
Kenobi was very good though, for all that Jango doubted he had the time for much undercover work regularly with his frequent public work for the Senate: his casual submission seemed exactly as habitual as the lifetime Public Attendants operating on either side.
The thought had occurred to Jango the day prior to wonder if the man had cause to spend much time on his knees regularly. It had been a...stimulating night. Ever since running into the man in that dive bar and being forced to watch him leave with that poor copy, he’d found himself occasionally turning over the question of what Kenobi would be like in bed (or against a bulkhead, if Jango could get him alone before they had to leave).
That curiosity returned as he observed Kenobi kneeling a step behind his erstwhile bonder, tray lifted and head lowered. The bare curve of his cheek was visible but his collared throat and jaw were blocked by the firm jut of his bicep, and his forearm was equally as firm. He wasn’t as thickly muscled as some of his erstwhile peers kneeling at his side, but Jango could only imagine the work that had gone into his form, both in the field and from his work with his Jetii'kad.
Jango found his functional corded muscle far more attractive than the decorative bulk of the almost universally useless eye candy that had been otherwise called to Attend the Houses during the negotiations. Maybe...he could afford a little flexibility of his own, considering the arrangements for the ionite had been finalized the night prior.
He decided to see what ground he could gain that night answering the question of the Jedi’s purpose in the negotiations, or the more personal question of the man’s tastes.
Hell, even if it ended in a fight, Jango would call himself satisfied.
~
Jango hadn’t removed his armor and didn’t feel guilty. It made it easier to focus on the spitting serpent he had pinned to the wall in the west Attendant corridor without giving into the distraction currently making his codpiece far less comfortable than it usually was.
“Hush, cyar’ika,” he muttered quietly, shifting his thigh higher between Kenobi’s. “I don’t want to break your cover but if someone comes out to investigate, you’ll have a fine song to sell keeping it.”
Jango had tracked his path following dinner, ducking into a room here and there, before making a prediction and managing to cut him off successfully. He hadn’t quite surprised him, but from the hasty defense, the ka’ra had barely whispered of his presence before Jango had caught him around a corner and pinned him face first.
At his words, Kenobi stilled, chest flush to the wall and his head turned sideways to meet Jango’s gaze through his buy’ce. His eyes contained all of the warmth of the frozen sea on Hoth, and were just as beautiful. After a moment, he was sad to see, they closed and Kenobi took a breath. When he looked once more, he appeared to have mastered his instinctive battle rage. Jango didn’t doubt he’d be ready to fight in an instant, and well, but something in him recognized Jango enough to blunt the first lethal response to the ambush after pausing long enough to recognize him.
Well, that was...kind of cute, to be honest. And useful. Jango hummed thoughtfully and squeezed Kenobi’s wrist warningly to remind him he had it in a gauntlet-aided grip that could easily go from playful to crushing, then shifted so he could tug his buy’ce off.
Kenobi didn’t move beyond the tension Jango could see tightening his shoulders and neck but his eyes were trained firmly on Jango when he cleared the edge of his buy’ce. He tucked it under his arm without looking away and let the silence stretch.
After a long moment, Kenobi sighed. Some of the tension he was holding drained away and his mouth quirked up. “And how may I Attend, sir guard?”
The little shit was flirting with him. Manda preserve and watch him, Jango might truly be in danger of falling in love if Kenobi intended to keep this up. Well, he’d been as interested in a fuck as much as a fight, and there was still the chance he could sweeten Kenobi around to revealing his purpose between the sheets. “I seem to have lost something.”
“Oh?” Kenobi’s eyes flicked down to Jango’s mouth and back up, tongue flashing out to moisten his own lips. “And what have you misplaced, sir?”
“My bed, Attendant.” Jango pressed his thumb lightly into Kenobi’s wrist in a gentle massage, and then carefully released his grip and stepped back, observing Kenobi carefully. If Kenobi wasn’t of a mind to fight, Jango would be happy to show him the good time he’d been seeking at that bar. “Would you have any suggestions?”
Kenobi carefully turned against the wall, still leaning into it. He met Jango’s gaze thoughtfully and Jango realized that while his irises were primarily blue, there was a faint ring of green just barely visible as filaments close to the pupils. “I’m afraid I don’t know where the Honored Offworld Representative has been given rooms...but I’m sure we can figure something out.”
Jango smirked. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”