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How far could Maul take his test? How close to a damnable Jedi could he get and not be detected for the lifelong enemy he truly was?

The answer, it seemed, was impossibly close, close enough to touch and smell the sweat of this young, naive Jedi with the pretty face and braid that hung low on his shoulder now. The music of the club had a driving beat, one that called to them both as they worked their way through the other dancers to a more shadowy corner.

Maul had overheard the ones with this one say they were celebrating a Knighting, then watched them all drift off into their own couplings, leaving the pretty one alone. Maul had moved in, a predator sensing prey that was vulnerable. The pretty Jedi was willing to dance, to share a drink, and then dance again.

The music had guided their bodies close, with him substituting observation and athleticism for actual dancing skill. His pretty Jedi, though, moved like one who had found escape in rhythm more than once. It made him feel all the more superior, never a slave to his carnal drive like this, but seeing it as a tool like any other, one that his body was supremely crafted for.

He pressed closer to the pretty Jedi, dipping his head down toward the shoulder so he could scan the crowd and study where the others were. Satisfied that none were in threat range, Maul began pushing the path they were on toward the quieter, darker alcoves, keeping his mind and intentions shielded. How far could he go without betraying his nature?

"Looking for a dance of another kind?" he asked in a low, sultry purr, thinking of the satisfaction of having this young Jedi writhing for pleasure, before his master allowed him to begin slaughtering them.

"Are you offering?"

Polished Coruscanti accent, Maul noted. One of the ones enslaved to the Order at birth, he decided from that. The length of braid indicted a number of years spent in one-on-one indoctrination. He leaned in and swiped his tongue over a bead of sweat on the pale skin of the throat. He saw it as a vulnerability when the pretty Jedi moaned for it.

His master said the Jedi were repressed, easily manipulated by pushing them past their imposed limits on interacting with other sentient beings, but this pretty one pushed into every touch and pulse of the music like one who made their living in pleasure. Maul wondered if it was the anonymous setting that made this work for him. Did the pretty one get off on not knowing who he was fucked by?

"I think you're the one making the offer," Maul answered at last.

"Maybe," the Jedi said before braving a kiss to his partner's exposed collarbone. Maul gave a closed-mouth smile, hard and predatory all at once, before he made the final push to have the Jedi pinned to a column in a shadow.

"I don't mind taking that offer," Maul rumbled, slipping his thigh between the Jedi's. He pressed in hard, thigh giving pressure through the pants, and watched as the Jedi's eyes dilated further. The scent of arousal was strong enough to overcome the smells of their environment, making Maul almost giddy with power over this one.

The Jedi's breathing stuttered before his hands went up above his head on the pillar. Maul took that invitation too, one hand reaching up to pin both wrists, while he used his other to hold the Jedi's hip. They found a rhythm that worked, guided by the beat of the music, with words lost to the wayside now.

Through it all, Maul studied his prey. He felt the muscles and tendons in the wrists cord and twist as pleasure pushed the Jedi ever further down the path of lust. The hips snapped with both grace and strength, furthering Maul's own enjoyment of this stolen moment. He could possess the Jedi, control his pleasure, make him break… and later, he would savor that when he and his Master destroyed the Order. Sex was a tool, stamping himself on the Jedi's memory for when revenge came to them.

The Jedi whined, a high sound through the music as the tension built to a point that was nearly unbearable. Maul shifted his weight just slightly, pulling back to elicit another protesting sound, before he shifted his hand from hip to crotch. The Jedi was hard, straining inside his pants, and Maul made a purring noise.

"If I just told you to come, right now, would you?" he asked, lips beside the pale man's ear.

"Not… that… needy," the Jedi managed to pant out, but he thrust hard against the cupping hand on him.

"If I stopped?" Maul taunted. "Left you this hard and wanting?"

The Jedi looked him square in the eyes. "Handsome as you are, I'd just find a new partner for this dance."

Maul smiled, still keeping his lips tight together, at the firm confidence in his prey. "Tempting as it is to step back and watch you do that, I think," and he tightened his hand around the hard cock inside the pants, eliciting a gasp, "I'll finish this engagement myself."

"Please," the Jedi said, eyes more than half-closed as he rocked into the grip. Maul moved his hand, not too rough, still holding the Jedi's hands up over his head by the wrist. He listened as the Jedi's breathing changed, saw as the pleasure took complete control of his features.

The Jedi's body flexed as the tension built and then broke, pushing into what support he was getting. Maul savored the look of absolute vulnerability, storing it away for the future. When they met again, once the Sith took their rightful vengeance, it would be an interesting contrast.

When the Jedi sagged back against the column, Maul let go of him completely, half-smirking. "Maybe we'll dance again, some day," he said, promising it to himself.

"What about—"

Maul snorted. "I got what I wanted," he said before he left the Jedi behind, pleased with just how close he'd gotten, and never let the Jedi suspect what he really was.


As Obi-Wan took in the figure framed in the doorway to the palace proper, he thought there was something familiar about the markings, the stature, even as he followed his master's lead to combat.