In the swamps of Dagobah, Luke had let go of his heart for the first time. He had let Yoda draw it out from his chest, and on the adrenaline of that separation he had sent it soaring into the air, to nestle in the branches of a tree like the strangest of flowers. His breaths had seemed to echo hollowly in his chest, though that was only imagination. He had felt his heart call to him. He had listened to Yoda, and ignored the call.
In his own academy, Luke had breathed calmly and evenly and shown his students how to do the same thing. He had shown them how he could walk about with his heart trailing behind him like an avian creature, once wild, now tamed. He had explained to them that this was part of being a Jedi.
He had explained the purpose to them. "A Jedi must act uncompromised by emotion," he had said. "Consider your own wishes and decisions, and then send your heart away, and consider them again. When, heartless and heartened, you come to the same conclusions, you are truly master of your own mind and emotions. You are true to yourself in all respects."
He had soothed them through the light-headedness of separation and the shock of reunion. HIs nephew, Ben, was the most accomplished of them, and even when his own heart was far away, Luke felt proud of him. Of all the students, Ben was most himself when his heart glowed at the other end of a room, but he was also the one who trembled and shook the longest when making himself whole at the end of the exercise. Luke tried to hide his pride, and his concern.
He was concerned about the wrong things.
There were parts of the rite that Luke did not know, and would not have taught to his students even if he had known them. But Luke's best student learned those parts while he was yet in Luke's care.
One day when all the students had sent their hearts away from them and were deep in meditation, Ben arose and snuffed out every other heart. Luke had known it was possible, but not how. A sentient being's heart was more a thing of Force than of flesh, and so it was that only those who were Force-sensitive could send and bring and bind them.
Then Ben left, without his heart, leaving it in Luke's keeping. A reminder of Luke's failure. A demonstration of power. A temptation to learn what Ben had learned, and enter darkness.
When Kylo Ren ascended, Luke fled. His first hope was to force his former protegé to choose. He could either follow his lost heart, or permanently sever its connection to himself. With that severance, he would be lucky to survive. He would certainly lose his ability to use the Force.
Kylo Ren sought him - but not as urgently as Luke would have, in his place.
Later, Luke learned that the being known as Snoke had given Han and Leia's son the loan of his own heart when Kylo had been most in need. It was yet another perversion of the rite that Luke did not know how to perform.
Later, he wept at how fully he had failed his friends' child, his beloved, brilliant protegé. How he had left him so empty that he would accept the invasion of another's desires, and dive further into darkness.
Later, he learned how it was that Snoke had done what he had done. In his remote retreat, light-years alone in every direction, he replicated the deed, pulling his own heart out of his chest and placing Kylo's within him instead. A possession - not of Kylo's secrets by Luke, but of Luke by Kylo's self. An obscene intimacy. His own desires and Kylo's muddled together.
He had expected to reel at the memories of murder. Instead he found his hand reaching for his cock. Something rather stranger than masturbation. He did not know if he were the subject or the object of desire.
Only upon orgasm did he find the strength to pull the strange heart out of himself and breathe empty for a while.
When Rey, not Ren, found him, begging him to return to the Alliance, he agreed for reasons of his own.
This was what it had come to - sneaking on to a First Order base in order to confront Kylo Ren.
He'd had help, of course, but he'd chosen his companions for discretion. The room was guarded, but only he and Kylo were inside it.
Kylo had laughed at him, but his laugh had turned ragged when he realized what Luke intended. He had fought with desperation, not skill. And Luke had won. Kylo's light sabre, too, was in his possession now.
"It would be cleaner to kill me," Kylo spat. "You know that, don't you?"
"That isn't my concern," Luke lied. Wondering if any clean conclusion were possible between them now, any encounter not twisted in some way.
Suiting actions to words, his opponent lunged at him, intent not on defeating Luke but on impaling himself on Luke's weapon. Luke snapped his light sabre off just in time, and wrestled Kylo to the ground, straddling him until the fight went out of him.
The master, of this art, too, held up Kylo's heart so that it hummed between them. Kylo held his gaze.
Luke pressed the heart into Kylo's chest. Felt it fill the emptiness in the dark apprentice's soul. Felt it beat again.
Kylo's mouth twisted and his eyelids fell closed. He let out a set of choking sobs, staccato like the stutter of a pulse weapon. He writhed under Luke, groaning, so that Luke was hard pressed to keep his grip on the slender man's thin wrists.
His eyes opened again. Overcoming Luke's efforts, Kylo wrenched himself up on his elbows and kissed Luke hard.
Luke did not kiss him back. Kylo broke away, down. "Please," he begged, and Luke had never heard begging like his. "Please. Let me feel this feeling. Drown out all the others. Fuck me."
His eyes darkened. "You already did," he breathed. "You borrowed my heart and fucked yourself with it inside you. Don't be pure now, Luke. Please."
He'd known that putting the broken boy back together would mean agony for Luke and Leia's son. He hadn't anticipated this. He told himself he hadn't anticipated this.
"You wanted this," Kylo moaned, as if still entangled in Luke's private thoughts. "You knew what this would do to me. You wanted to get me alone. You have me now. You have me."
Luke's cock was hardening against the muscled body beneath him. He could not escape the press of Kylo's skin. He scrambled up, putting distance between them, but Kylo got to his feet and advanced.
"You won't want this later," Luke said.
"Oh yes I will," Kylo snarled. "I wanted it when I was heartless. Now I just want it more. Own what you've done, Uncle. Own me."
His face was twisting, twitching. He let out a bark of laughter then brought a hand up to wipe his eyes. "Fuck me," Kylo demanded. "There's no point in denying you want me. There's no point in denying anything to me."
What did Luke owe his student? Nothing, surely. The denial was not for Kylo's sake, only Luke's. To deny what darkness still lurked in him - and that was pointless, the skewed priority dark enough in its own right. The other students' fates hung between them. But Luke had cared the most for Ben.
Kylo laughed, exalted, manic. "I see it in your own heart, Skywalker," he said. "You'll do it. You've given in to what you need." He closed the distance and kissed Luke again, hands gripping Luke's ribs, pulling Luke's robes aside. He dropped to his knees and mouthed at Luke's straining cock through his clothing. "You're ready for me," he said, crudely pointing out the obvious. He pulled his own clothing roughly away.
Luke sank to his knees, giving in silently. Kylo got down on the floor and placed one leg on either side of Luke's thighs, scooting up close to him and bending his knees so that his ass was elevated, his asshole presented to Luke. 'Please," he said again, with a decade of severed emotion boiling beneath the word.
Luke kneeled over Kylo and gave him what he wanted.
Kylo gasped in relief, cock thick and jumping against his belly. He thrust back eagerly to receive Luke's cock. His emotions whirled about him like a storm, with Luke the fragile centre. Luke only wished that Kylo's intense, overwhelming, broadcasted feelings drowned out those of his own he had no wish to feel. Savage possessiveness. Pride and longing. Shame and spite and tenderness.
The boy's long torso stretched out below him. Luke splayed his hands across the dark knight's chest. Kylo's heart was still glowing with activation within him. But after so long a separation, no effort of Kylo's - or Snoke's - could detach it soon, perhaps for years. It was impossible.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Kylo was moaning, a thin, whining chant in time to the slap of flesh against flesh, wearing a strained, intent grin. When the chant sped up, Luke took the hint and sped up too. Pounding Kylo's ass into the stone floor. Revelling in the sight and sound and warmth of him. Smashing through his orgasm. Panting out, "Ben." Following it up with something even more naked. "I love you."
Kylo screwed up his eyes, tears still leaking out of them. "Finish me off," he said, more a command than a plea, but Luke was already moving to answer. Pulling out, sprawling between Kylo's thighs, he licked and sucked and dragged his teeth along Kylo's cock until Kylo writhed again, desperately fucking Luke's mouth. He revelled in Kylo's unified desperation. One heart, one mind, one lust.
"This is what you wanted," Kylo breathed, and Luke was not sure if the dark-haired man was talking to his mentor or to himself. His back arched and his mouth fell open and his cock spurted, come leaking out of Luke's mouth despite the older man's quick swallow.
Luke started to pull away, and Kylo's hands closed on his wrists. "Don't leave me alone," he ordered Luke. "Not now." But his eyes were fluttering closed again. The glow of his heart was dimming as the trauma of reunion faded. In barely a few minutes, the terror of the First Order was asleep.
Luke staggered up, wiping himself up. He looked down at his former student, curled up on the floor in a mess of robes and sweat and come. He wiped him off carefully, too, but Kylo didn't stir.
This was his opportunity to escape, and leave Kylo behind. Leave behind the boy who had killed millions. Who had kissed him and begged him and writhed beneath him. He could have killed Ben. Instead he had restored his conscience to him.
He had left Snoke with a lieutenant who could not be controlled again. Or, perhaps, trusted by the dark master.
When he next saw Ben, Luke desperately hoped it would not be on the opposite side of a battle.
This time, Luke hoped Ben would make his way home to him.