Matchmaker Hondo part 2
Jango woke with a pounding headache and a warm body beneath him.
"Good morning," his living mattress said softly, chest rumbling beneath Jango's cheek. "How's your head?"
"Shu' up," Jango moaned, blindly flapping a hand for his mattress's mouth.
"That bad, eh?" his bedmate said, amused, then, "Ah, Fett, that was my eye--"
"Fett?" Jango said, offended, resigning himself to consciousness enough to crack open an eye. "Since when do you call me--"
Obi-Wan Kenobi really shouldn't look that good beneath him when his head hurt too much for him to do anything about it. It was rude.
"Hush, you're delirious," Obi-Wan announced to the galaxy at large, heartlessly ignoring his wince at the volume. He was holding Jango's hand hostage to keep it from smacking him again in retaliation. "They really clocked you. I suppose you weren't wearing your helmet, again."
"Spare me," Jango grumbled, rolling off his chest and sitting up. "Hypocrite, you don't even have one--" He blinked rapidly, suddenly wondering if he'd gotten his bell rung harder than he thought. "Kriff is this?"
He was on a king-sized mattress that had been crammed inside a holding cell that was far too small for it, covered in clumps of musk-rose petals that looked like someone had ripped them off in great handfuls and squished them together before attempting to scatter them. There were a multitude of scented candles stuffed into the empty toilet bowl on the wall, slowly melting into one massive ball of wax that would doubtless clog the pipes. The combination of lingering sewage and sickly-sweet smells was overpowering to the point that his eyes nearly watered.
"Hondo's really pulled out all the stops," Obi-Wan said wryly. "Is your head still bothering you? Come here, let me help."
Jango made a face just to see that annoyed, worried little crease between his eyebrows, but leaned into him without further prompting. Two deliciously cool hands came up to his temples, and the ache eased. He pressed even closer, intending to bury his face in that freckled throat and erase the olfactory travesty he'd been subjected to with Obi-Wan's scent--
"Kenobi! Fett!" an unfortunately familiar voice crowed behind him. Jango jumped to his feet and nearly came crashing down again, trying to find his balance on a mattress that felt like it had been stuffed with marshmallows.
"Hondo," Obi-Wan sighed. He hadn't even attempted to stand, and was lounging in a sea of petals and sheets, his tunics missing. Jango wished he was better able to appreciate the view, but he was too busy lunging forward and trying to grab Hondo's throat through the bars. He noted, in the back of his mind, that he was also shirtless.
Ohnaka danced back, hooting, "Oh, did I interrupt something, Fett? I went to all the trouble of preparing this couple's getaway, and this is the thanks I get? You were wrapped in such a passionate embrace just now--"
"Honestly, this is getting ridiculous," Obi-Wan said tartly. "You're never getting that ransom, and quite frankly not the threesome you seem to so desperately crave, either."
"That is where you are wrong, my friend!" Hondo said. "I am going to get that ransom one of these days, and while a threesome might be intriguing, the two of you together seem like too much work. Perhaps after the wedding."
"There is never gonna be a wedding. Not in your lifetime," Jango spat bitterly, "and if you ever come close enough for me to touch I'll shatter your kneecaps before I do anything else."
"You see?" Ohnaka said, gesturing expansively at him. He snatched his arm back before Jango could break it. "I am a very generous lover, as Kenobi well knows, but I am not interested in that kind of play without at least establishing a safe word first."
Jango snarled, deep in his chest. Obi-Wan stood to put a comforting hand on the small of his back, where Hondo couldn't see.
"My apologies, I forgot about Mandalorians and their possessiveness," Ohnaka said, waggling his brow ridges. "As you are no doubt mad with lust, I will leave you to it. Make sure he can't walk after, Fett, I want that Jedi ransom!"
And then he pranced away, ignoring the string of expletives aimed at his back.
"We really should tell him that we're already married," Obi-Wan said at last. "This is getting old."
Jango finally relaxed, smiling despite himself at the sound of his husband speaking Mando'a. His pronunciation was still a bit off, but Jango had found Obi-Wan's accent cute for far longer than he was comfortable admitting. "Hell, no. Then he'll know he won, and he'll be even more insufferable."
Obi-Wan pulled him back from the bars and set his bristly chin on Jango's bare shoulder, smirking insufferably at the ticklish little twitch Jango failed to suppress. "You know I don't care much about weddings either way, but considering how much you enjoy them, it's ridiculous to deny yourself just to spite him."
"And give him the chance to take it over?" Jango asked. "Over my dead body. We'll wait till after I kill him. His days are numbered."
"Of course, darling," his husband said, sounding unconvinced. "Now, how should we pass the time until our next daring escape?" Obi-Wan's hands slid teasingly down Jango's stomach.
"We are not fucking in a cell," Jango said flatly. "And especially not on Ohnaka's ship."
"But it would be rather--"
"No."