After a recent visit to Lariek, Kanan’s commlink chirps to alert him of an incoming holo.
“The following is a private message intended for Jed-eyes only,” says Ezra’s prerecorded voice.
Kanan snorts at the bad pun and does a quick inspection of the area to make sure no one else is around. The coast is clear, but something tells him he should move to a more private location just in case Ezra says or does something wildly inappropriate. Which Kanan gets the strong feeling he will. And in which case he will give his Padawan a stern talking-to later.
He slides down the ladder to the lower deck, ducks into his cabin, and shuts the doors behind him. He goes to his bunk and sits down, pressing the resume button on his device.
Ezra’s forehead and thick eyebrows flicker into view, completely filling the 3D screen for a moment—he’s propping up the recorder, Kanan guesses—before he steps back for a full body view.
Kanan’s heart stops. He presses his fist to his mouth.
In the blue-tinted holovid, Ezra smiles and does a complete turn. “What do you think?”
That I’m in serious trouble, Kanan thinks.
Ezra is wearing a pair of lacy black underwear and absolutely nothing else. He must have gotten them earlier on Lariek when he went off scouting on his own. Kanan distantly hopes he paid for them. He probably did; he’s been unlearning a lot of bad habits recently. Lying, cheating, swearing and stealing, to name a few. Kanan can vaguely make out the background. Zeb’s empty bunk. Clothes and junk all over the floor. Ezra standing in the middle of it, tossing his head and running a hand through his hair in a clearly provocative way.
“Don’t they look good on me?”
He turns and poses again. His movements are awkward and inexperienced, but the result is undeniably alluring.
The panties ride low on his hips and display a broad expanse of golden-brown skin below his navel. A sparse trail of hair leads down his lower belly and disappears beneath the delicate waistband. His genitals are cradled comfortably between his legs, the dusky pink skin showing through the tiny spaces in the frilly black lace. The panties impart the illusion of curves on his boyishly slim, straight hips. It’s a beautiful effect, this subtle blend of masculine and feminine. He turns to show off the rear view again. The waist dips down in a deep V-shape, making his back look long and elegant, while the legs are cut high. The bottoms of his small cheeks peek coyly out, the flesh smooth and supple.
Yes, Kanan thinks, they look fantastic. His cock stirs in his trousers. He doesn’t bother to command it to lie back down just yet. Maybe when the holo is over. He wants to revel in this for a few more minutes. Soak in it like a warm bath.
“I’m surprised at how good they feel. I thought they’d be really itchy and uncomfortable, but they’re not.” Ezra turns toward the front again and rubs his hands over the lace appreciatively. “They’re actually pretty supportive. Kinda nice to not be swinging everywhere, heh. Maybe I’ll wear them next time we’re on a mission. Who knows, they might help me focus. Can’t say they’ll help you, though.” He grins wickedly.
The thought of his Padawan wearing frilly lingerie under his clothes while fighting alongside him is almost enough to give Kanan a nosebleed. “Kriffing stars, Ezra,” he mutters, pinching between his eyebrows where the pressure is building.
“Anyway, can’t wait to show them to you in person someday. Oh, and, uh, you should probably delete this message as soon as it’s over.” He kisses his fingertips and wiggles them playfully at the holocam. “Bye now.”
The holo ends. Kanan deletes it before he’s tempted to watch it again. For a few minutes he sits motionless on the edge of his bunk, staring into space with his hands clenched on his knees. Then he takes a long slow breath and looks down at himself. His erection bulges obscenely in his trousers.
He has two choices: do the mature thing and use his self-control to surmount this scorching, blistering, ball-busting lust, or chase down that irresistible image running through his head, catch it, and fuck it like an animal.
After a few seconds’ hesitation, he snaps open his belt buckle and unzips his fly.
The animal wins this time.
After dinner that evening he corners Ezra in the galley. It’s Ezra’s turn to clear the table, and he’s just finished wiping down the bar and turning to leave when Kanan looms up behind him and blocks his escape. He glares down at his Padawan and raises a finger in warning.
“No more kinky holos. It’s too risky. You could accidentally send them to someone else, they could get intercepted, rerouted, or Force knows what else. A lot of really bad things could happen, let me put it that way. From now on, legitimate comm only. We clear?”
“Aw, c’mon, the risk is half the fun. Besides, I gotta do something to keep myself entertained around here.” Ezra grasps Kanan’s finger and strokes his fist up and down in perfect mimicry of what Kanan was doing to himself earlier. His smirk is absolutely devilish. “And just wait ’til you see the other things I bought.”
Kanan’s eyes go wide.
Ezra rises up on his tiptoes, licks Kanan’s lips, and slides out from around him. He saunters off with a peppy little bounce in his step and a whistle on his lips.
Kanan leans heavily on the bar and lets out a long, heavy sigh.
He has created a kriffing monster.