Chapter Text
Jango had expected to be on campaign with Jaster. He was pissed that his buir thought he could leave his ad and go off to campaign without him.
“Jas’Buir, no-“
Jaster gave a soft sigh, looking between Jango and the upset young adults behind him. “Jan’ika, I’m so sorry, but we need you to keep an eye on them. Frankly, the jet’ika shouldn’t have been sent here with that injury on his leg and Sat’ika needs someone to watch her. I trust you with that. When the jet’ika is better healed, we can revisit you coming back to the front lines. I’m sure you know somewhere to take them where you can still coordinate squadrons from.”
Jango bit his lip, looking back to where Obi-Wan and Satine were sitting. Obi-Wan still had a removable cast on his leg from a previous mission, and Satine looked guilty about causing all this fuss.
Jaster was right. They shouldn’t have sent a hurt jet’ika, even if he was twenty and one of their most capable padawan fighters.
He gave a little sigh of defeat, looking back at his buir again. Jaster was going to stay in Keldabe with Arla, the jetii master and Ba’vodu Adonai, and Jango would have to find a place to hide their vulnerable ade in the meantime.
How long could this whole thing really take?
***
Jango brought them to Concord Dawn, back to the homestead he’d lived in till he was eight. It wasn’t really a homestead anymore.
Arla still had the deed to the land, and it had been remade. The stronghold was mostly a bunker, under the ground where they could hide the numbers and have a modest farmhouse on top, a nice older woman with many years of spying and gardening under her belt keeping an eye on things. She was nice, and she always brought down fresh fruit and veggies for those that stayed in the bunker.
Jango had taken the rooms Jaster always brought them to when he stayed there, but Obi-Wan and Satine had seemed somewhat offended when Jango had pointed out they’d need to bring in real beds if they didn’t want to use sleeping pits.
Satine said it was because she was a real Mandalorian and real Mandalorians always used sleeping pits. She would be a good mandalorian and use a sleeping pit.
Obi-Wan had petulantly said it would be hard to get in and out with his leg like this.
Jango had given a little sigh, but he understood, and asked for an actual bed to be located, and in the meantime, set up the couch for the jet’ika.
The way a Mandalorian household was set up differed from place to place, but most had a few things in common. Sleeping pits were common for sure, much like conversation pits in the republic, but these were for nesting and sleeping in. Taung ancestry had a lot of nesting instinct infused in their genetics, and Satine seemed to have a higher percentage than even Jango.
There were four sleeping pits in the house. Jango gave Obi-Wan Buir’s usual room, and gave Satine Arla’s, but Obi-Wan said he was fine on the couch in the den till he had a real bed.
Which had, of course, triggered Jango’s instinct that he needed to be on guard and watch out for them, but the issue is that Satine’s room was closest to the apartment door, and Obi-Wan was all alone in the den, which meant that Jango, whose bedroom was near the back of this apartment, as the youngest of his aliit, was the furthest from the door if he stayed in his room.
He grumbled, toting his blankets and a single pillow out of his room; his favorite thick blankets to sleep with on Concord Dawn, which was fairly cool compared to Mandalore, and dropped them in the fourth sleeping pit in the apartment.
It was next to the hearth, which was in the wall between the den and kitchen, and was often used as a stovetop and fire oven in the kitchen during the colder months when it was going. Said sleeping pit was perfectly positioned so he could see the entrance to Satine’s room, and could face Kenobi so he could keep an eye on him while he slept. Jango sighed, flopping back against the firmer pillows that were tossed against the edges so they could relax, and watched the young man for a while.
He was too thin, Jango thought. He wanted to feed him a bit and see some healthy fat on him, but maybe he was just a skinny person by default.
Satine, though, was definitely in need of a few good meals. Even Adonai had said so when the Jetii had arrived with her finally, saying her aunts must not be feeding her enough in the republic.
Jango had seen her aunts, and they had always been interested in some diet fad or another, so she could probably use some proper attention and feeding to get her stable after dealing with their ossik.
Speaking of; the door to Satine’s room opened up, and she came out with a pillow under her arm and a pout on her face, bundled up in the blanket that Arla kept in her sleeping pit. Unfortunately, it was one meant for warmer nights.
She came over to the sleeping pit in front of the fireplace, and didn’t hesitate to climb in on the other side.
It was the biggest sleeping pit in the apartment, since it was meant to hold a whole aliit, and she had no issue coming to the middle where she could steal one of Jango’s thicker blankets, and flopping down on her side, hugging her pillow. “That room is cold.”
Jango reached over to pull her hair away from her mouth and back behind her ear. She had managed to completely wrap herself in the blankets in an impressively short time. “Do you want me to turn on the heating unit for you?”
She shook her head, letting out a little yawn. It was far past time she usually slept, and Obi-Wan was napping off the stress that flight always caused him. He said he’d been in a few too many crashes to find travel relaxing. “I’ll just sleep out here. It’s warmer.”
Which meant that Jango would be sleeping out here till Satine decided she could use the room she’d been offered. He sighed, scooting down a little and pulling a blanket over himself. “Just wake me if you need anything, Sat’ika.”
“Thanks, Jango.”
***
Jango woke smothered in heat and the pressure of other bodies on him.
He blinked in the hazy light that came from a faux window in the kitchen, the dull light slowly coming to show it was early morning in the world above.
There were windows like that in all of the bedrooms, and one in the kitchen. They provided a lot of vitamin D and helped orient them to living underground. They were scattered around the complex below the surface, and made for a much happier environment.
In said hazy light, he could see a head of blonde hair splayed out over his left peck, which meant that Satine had gotten clingy in her sleep, and a single shiny copper braid on his other pec, which happened to come from the jet’ika that was face planted into his stomach and ribs, of all places.
He was overheated, but it didn’t make him sweat buckets like one would think. It felt hot, like a warm bath.
He lifted up his head, so he could see that Obi-Wan had completely abandoned his place on the couch in favor of the sleeping pit, his left leg straight with it’s cast and starfished out in the other side of the sleeping pit.
These little shabuire were too copikla for him to handle. And he was stuck under them. And he really had to pee.
He sighed, reaching a hand down to the redhead on his stomach, and started petting through that baby fine hair. Obi-Wan made soft little noises of pleasure at the touch, and let Jango work him off his abdomen, and then tried the same on Satine. She lifted her head with a soft tooka like chirp, saw that Jango was trying to get out from under them, and gave a sad sigh like he was breaking her heart. Jango just snorted, getting out of the pit so he could empty his bladder.
When he came back, he found that they had moved into the weirdest position in his absence. Satine had curled around Obi-Wan so she could lay her head on his lower back, and that had him using one of her thighs as a pillow. It looked awkward and uncomfortable at best.
He decided to leave them there after taking a few stills on his HUD. He headed out, unarmored but just needing to be out to put in a few orders to the quartermaster, and found himself face to face with Silas.
Myles’s young vod’ad was staying on Concord Dawn since most haat’ade were trying to get their most vulnerable members out of dodge. He paused after a short greeting. “Silas, are you and the other young ones taking classes while in the compound?”
Silas raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Lek. Buir said I couldn’t skip classes, but we can’t risk too many signals going out, so we had most of our lessons downloaded and we have tutors to help us.”
Jango nodded. “Good. Ask around and see who has lessons for basic Mando’a and history lessons. The Jet’ika and Satine know far too little for my liking.”
Silas gave a little nod. “Lek, Alor. We’ll have them speaking well enough for conversation soon.”
Jango headed off for the quartermaster, putting in an order for a lifted bed to be located, and a grocery run to be brought to them. He didn’t want to go into the town right now, since they didn’t want any actual advertisement that they were on planet anytime soon, since these sorts of stronghold bunkers were meant to be a hiding spot for more vulnerable people of their culture.
And right now, Obi-Wan and Satine were just that.
The quartermaster stopped him before he left, giving over a enough dairy and eggs that Jango could use any non perishables in the pantry, so he could feed his little demons before they got snippy with him.
He asked for a few kutes to be sent their way so the two could leave the apartment without looking too out of place, and headed back.
Obi-Wan seemed to have woken up and moved the two of them into a more dignified position, staying in the sleeping pit with her, probably because it was hard to climb out of with a partially healed leg, and was shoved into her collarbone with her passed out on her back, halfway freed from her blanket prison by now.
Perfect. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad watching these two. They sure were copikla.
He got a measage from the quartermaster that he’d just have to help the jet’ika out of the sleeping pit for a few days while they considered if they had low enough watchers to sneak in a raised bed.
Hmm. It couldn’t be that bad.
***
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Dealing with Kenobi and Satine at the same time was like keeping toddlers in line. The only time they stopped squabbling was when they had to do their lessons, and he was half convinced they only scored so well because they were trying to outdo each other.
Satine seemed more comfortable with roughhousing than she used to be, given the amount of times Jango had to pull them apart, which had been sort of horrifying the first time he thought he walked in on them humping just to realize it was Satine trying to shove Obi-Wan’s face into the sleeping pit to suffocate him.
Jango had sighed, snapping his fingers to get their attention, and pointing to the couch. “Sat’ika, don’t be so mean to him. He’ll likely try and get you back when he’s fully healed.”
Satine whined like a puppy denied a treat. “But Jango, he’s so annoying, and he keeps starting it!”
Jango turned to look at the pouting man in the sleeping pit, who glared at her. “I do not start things. You give me that look-“
“Your looks are worse and you whine about being sent here to stay with me-“
“I’m a Jedi, I’m supposed to be with my master and helping stop the Death Watch-“
“How do you think I feel?! I’m helpless here and all I can do is hope my Buir isn’t going to die and that my aunties won’t demand custody if he lives and that I don’t get sent back to Coruscant again and-“ she sniffled, tears starting to leak out now, and Jango pulled off his buy’ce, hoping his body sweat wouldn’t offend her since he’d just got out of a training class. He sat next to her on the couch, pulling her in with a soft hum.
Obi-Wan looked gutted, and worse still, he was starting to tear up too, sniffles and little whines coming out. Jango looked between the two of them, and Satine was watching Obi-Wan. He pulled her face to his, looking her in the eye. “Sat’ika, you aren’t going back to them. No matter what happens, I won’t let that happen, because you don’t want it to. Okay? Do you want to go back to the pit and give Ob’ika a little cuddle? As much as I understand, cyar’ika, you both could stand to communicate a little better, maybe see yourselves as being in the same situation instead of your own bad one?”
Satine whined, but snuffled into his neck and started making grabby hands towards Obi-Wan in the pit. Jango didn’t give either of them the chance to fight again, picking her up off the couch and carrying her over there. He dropped her with a little bounce that made her squeak and giggle for a moment, and the two of them were suddenly smushed together like they usually slept, Obi-Wan on her like a clinging octopus and Satine trying to bury herself under the weight.
Jango sighed. He needed a shower. “You two, please get along for a bit, I need to go shower. Can you two be good for me for a while?” He almost cringed at the baby voice he was giving them, but neither of them seemed upset, both giving him serious little nods. “Alright. My best brats, I’ll be back in a bit.”
Honestly? They really were his best brats. He was undoubtedly attached to them for now.
***
Obi-Wan and Satine were learning Mando’a at a decent rate. Soon enough they’d be able to make friends with more than just their classmates. Silas was a year younger than them, and obviously not interested in the same things as them. Silas had a habit of running from anyone that seemed like they might talk about politics with him.
The two of them were attached at the hip, and Jango was trying to get them some other friends, if possible.
It’s not like he wasn’t their friend, but he was clearly in charge of them, and also had trainees to help and squadrons to position in the nearby planets and towns. He just didn’t have enough time for them it seemed.
Jaster was right about one thing, which was sending him somewhere else. He hated to admit it, but they needed someone in the complex that would know Jaster’s strategies and how to properly execute them in the area.
Which meant that his babysitting duty was sort of secondary now.
Except for right this moment.
Obi-Wan and Satine had been fighting again. Neither of them were crying this time, but the longer it took for Ob’ika’s leg to heal, the snippier he got. Aurine, the baar’ur in the complex, said he was about halfway healed, and had downgraded the removable cast to a stiff brace that would add strength to his left ankle as he stepped down on it.
It was impressive, but he’d been told it was just a pressure plate to make sure his ankle couldn’t fold while he regained strength and the bone couldn’t bend wrong and rebreak.
Which was good, because Obi-Wan was now having to work his anxious energy out in the training rooms. He even seemed to be getting Satine into some basic sparring, which went shockingly well.
When she trained against the ten year olds, that is. She ended up flat on the mats much less often than any of them expected for her being so new to this.
It was helping both of them to calm down, but it was also having some negative effects on Obi-Wan the longer he stayed there, as the guilt of staying back from the front lines grew.
Jango had been looking at reports all day, the Mando’a flitting through his mind in a way that made it hard to think outside of the language. It was tough to think about anything but the movement of Death Watch on Krownest and the way Ba’Vodu Kal reported children missing near the edges of Mandalorian territory.
They were going to have to find a way to give them their protection before more children became hostages.
But, unlike Jaster, he was typically very good at basic, having learned it much younger than Jaster did. But here’s the thing, when you still have language barriers, instead of just forgetting words and trying to explain what you mean, sometimes you… replaced them, not realizing that even if it means the same thing, you’ve essentially changed the meaning.
Which is when the most embarrassingly hilarious moment of his life happened. One that might have changed life for all three of them, actually.
Obi-Wan had been bratting off to him. It was his thing, when he got worked up enough, even Master Jinn had said he could go on tangents, get uppity, or just run off to do what he feels is best, even when masters tell him not to. Which is honestly hilarious, come to think of it. That had been a night when Master Jinn had told an embarrassing story about Obi-Wan’s first mission at thirteen, when he stole a droid and ship and left to help a bunch of children on another planet.
Rambunctious. An absolute scoundrel.
It had been a better story than Obi-Wan admitting a former Jedi had kidnapped him on his second mission and sold him, and then the war he got caught up in on his third.
This ad had ossik luck.
Either way. He was bratting off again, this time trying to convince Jango that he was needed with his Jetii master, that he had to leave soon!
Jango sighed, taking off his buy’ce in the middle of Obi-Wan’s tirade while he kept trying his best to convince him, and reached up to snag Obi-Wan by the chin, forcing him to look Jango in the eye, and Obi-Wan’s words trailed off with a soft little sigh as he looked at Jango.
“Little Mister, you listen to me right now; you aren’t going anywhere at the moment, and this is not up for debate. You are going to stay in this compound with your vod and be good for once. No running off at the first sign of war. Not everything in this galaxy is made for us to fight on the front lines, and I get I complained too, but I found my place here, you can as well.”
The room was very quiet for a moment, and Jango sighed. “I misspoke, didn’t I?”
Satine let out a little giggle, and hiccupped, having been holding her breath for a bit. “You meant to say ‘Young Man’ didn’t you?”
Jango suddenly started to flush, and rolled his eyes, letting go of a giggling Obi-Wan’s chin so he could lean in and bump his forehead with Jango’s, having been startled into amusement instead of upset now. “I guess I did, but you do act more little than anything, most of the time. Both of you. Alright, let me through to the kitchen so I can feed you both.”
Obi-Wan went back to the Mando’a module on his pad, politely sitting back down, happy that he wasn’t being scolded for once.
Satine followed Jango into the kitchen, pulling herself up onto the counter so she could watch him prepare the meat they were supposed to have with dinner. She didn’t even argue when he bodily picked her up from the counter to set her back down on the floor, just giving him a quiet little huff of amusement. She completely stilled him in his tracks at her next words. “You should just spank him the next time he brats off at you.”
He slowly turned to look at her. “Excuse me?”
She shrugged. “You should just spank him. Or at least put him in time out. Maybe he’ll understand that acting like a cranky toddler will get him treated like one. Besides, I’m kinda worried that he’ll continue to have guilt the less pain he feels, and he might start trying to hurt himself.”
Jango closed his eyes with a soft little puff of air out his nose. “Thank you for the insight, Sat’ika. I’ll… think about it. I’m not just going to spank him out of the blue, though.”
Satine shrugged. “I didn’t think you would. You can talk to him about it and set up a safeword. We’re all adults here, and it doesn’t have to be weird, really. He might want it. Or maybe time outs and being talked through his frustrations can help. He went all melty when you scolded him, you had that firm daddy voice, and he seemed to relax when he heard it. Either way, he doesn’t settle till someone corrects him.”
That was… news. He nodded again. “Thank you, Sat’ika. I guess I’ll talk about it with him tomorrow.”
***
Tomorrow came too soon. He woke up in the den’s sleeping pit with a pair of clinging brats on either side, suffocating him and using him as their pillow. Satine was squished into his side with the amount of blankets she needed to sleep, and Obi-Wan was facedown into his stomach in a parody of their first night here.
Obi-Wan switched up who’s chest he slept on, and it usually depended on if Satine was on her back or not, but it felt nice either way. Bliss is, being pressurized by your aliit trying to smother you. They’d been here almost three weeks now, and would be here however many more, and they had a routine.
He was probably about to kark it all up, there was no way Obi-Wan would take threats of infantilization and physical punishment as a proper response to mouthing off a bit. Obi-Wan was going to assume he was a freak and ask to move out.
When Jango had been a kid and mouthed off to Jaster, the man didn’t hit him, or baby talk him, he found out why Jango was upset at the moment, and what steps they could take to make him feel better.
He had been upset over losing his parents. Fair. But he was still being taken care of by his ori’vod and a loving adult. He was upset over Death Watch. Also fair. So Jaster put a blaster in his hand and said that vengeance wasn’t the way, but becoming a stronger power than them was. And that had worked as well.
Obi-Wan felt guilt about being too weak to fight with his jet’buir. That was fair, because it was expected of an apprentice to fight at their jet’buir’s side. Obi-Wan felt guilt about ‘lazing around’ as if he wasn’t the one sitting in Jango’s warroom with Satine pouring over political texts and law books, giving them access to planets they hadn’t had before, and ways they could help others within republic bounds if Death Watch tried to get to close to those borders.
Why did Satine think Obi-Wan wanted to be hit. Did she think he needed to be punished? Was Satine angry at Obi-Wan and didn’t tell either of them?
No. She was a brat, and he wouldn’t even put it past her to frame Obi-Wan for something minor, like making a mess or accidentally tripping someone, but that would be more of a prank than malicious.
So there had to be a reason for it.
Obi-Wan lifted his head from Jango’s stomach, giving a rolling merp-mew, that seemed to be a question all on it’s own, and it took Jango a moment to realize he was too tired to speak. He carded his hands through that soft hair, noting the way Obi-Wan purred, leaning into the touch. “Sorry, cyar’ika, I didn’t mean to wake you. Was I thinking too loud?”
Obi-Wan gave another couple of rolling mews, wriggling up the sleeping pit so he could shove his face into Jango’s shoulder, just above the crease of his arm, giving gentle nips with his little fangs till Jango gave him a tap on the nose. “You’re right, of course, I shouldn’t be thinking so hard this time of morning, this is when little ones need their sleep so they can gain all that energy for trouble making. You and Sat’ika would be so sad without trouble to make.”
Obi-Wan gave the most pleased mew and purred even harder, the vibrations going through his arm at the feeling. It had shocked Satine and Jango to realize he wasn’t fully human, but then again, Taung ancestry had some weird additives in it as well, and near-humans had to stick together.
It took Jango a moment to realize he had done it again. He’d used what Satine called the daddy voice, and Obi-Wan had melted at it. Again. He hadn’t even meant to use that voice, it just came out around the ad, him being so sweet and all, or maybe he was just too pretty to speak harsh at. He didn’t need anger when he was in trouble, just a firm hand on his chin, or maybe the back of his neck.
Maybe she was onto something here.
***
Obi-Wan had been finishing up an assignment when Jango got a pointed look from Satine who left them alone for the time. He sighed, moving to sit next to the man on the couch. Obi-Wan gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, closing down his files and setting his tablet on his lap.
“Hello.”
Jango smiled at that soft voice with the odd Coruscanti accent that was so foreign here. “I wanted to talk to you about… you being upset that you’re still here.”
Obi-Wan bit his lip, looking a bit shy at that. “I know I keep talking back, I just feel as though I could be out there with my master. I don’t see what good I’m doing here.”
Jango shook his head. “You and Sat’ika have been doing good here just like me. I didn’t want to be here to begin with either, but it’s been helpful to the region. You and Sat’ika have been helping get recruits- and you help people in town just about every time we go.”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “But I can do better. I could do more.”
Jango gave a soft little hum. “Me and Satine like and want you here. That’s one thing, but otherwise, maybe you could help Myles by supervising his class for the foundlings? That could keep you busier.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “I guess.”
Jango sighed. “But, I guess, if you want help with that guilt over being here… I could help you with more physical needs. Don’t, like, hate me, it was just an idea that me and Satine had. It might help you relax a little if I could put you in line when you start getting fussy like you have the past few times.”
Obi-Wan turned red up to the roots of his hair, and the top of his chest, and Jango wondered if Satine had already told him about her idea as well. “Like spanking?”
Jango hummed again. “We could also try some quiet time if you need it, or we could find you some sensory toys if that works better. Satine seemed to think something more physical would help. It could help you get your mind on right and calm down, instead of fighting in circles.”
Obi-Wan seemed to think that over. “We could try it.”
“Alright, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to take away any ability you have to speak up. I want you to choose a safeword. We can use traffic signals for more specific situations, but a safeword-“
“Bandomeer.” There was a pause where they were both quiet. Jango knew what that was, considering the talk he’d had with Master Jinn. “I think Bandomeer would be a good safeword. It’s not got a great history, for me.”
Jango reached up and pulled the man in by the back of his neck, gently rubbing their foreheads together. “I think that would be just fine, kiddo. I’ll remember.”
Obi-Wan let out the softest little rolling merp, melting in Jango’s touch. “I know you would. You’re good at helping me and Satine. We’d still be fighting if you weren’t so good at talking us through it. I just can’t figure out why that logic won’t calm me down enough to not want to leave.”
“You’re just a highly stressed person, I guess. It’s okay to need some correction, now and then.”
“I’ve always been bad at impulse control, I guess.”
Jango quirked a little smile. “Your jet’buir mentioned you had your first mission far too early because you decided on an impulse to follow him.”
Obi-Wan’s blush started to come back. “I was only twelve. I was having a hard time choosing between the will of the force and the foresight to tell another master that it was tugging me off.”
Jango’s hand tightened on Obi-Wan’s neck. “Maybe that’s a reason you’re so upset. When you get more anxious, does it ever feel like you’re not reading the force right? Like you know logically you need to stay here but what if you’re not hearing it right and you need to leave?”
Obi-Wan bit his lip. “Maybe.”
“Don’t worry about it right now, me and Sat’ika can help you figure it out when you need to.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, little one.”