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Title: Blindsight
Author: Vikki R. (vgreen@swmina.freeserve.co.uk)
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Luke was captured and encased in carbonite on Bespin. But when Vader thawed him out, things didn't go quite as smoothly as planned, leaving Luke blind and 'suffering' from some disturbing dreams about his father that he can't get out of his head... and that he's struggling to hide from Vader. He's tired, in shock and confused - something's gotta give.

Disclaimer: No money is made from this story. I have no claim to the rights of any of these characters. Sadly.

Warnings: Luke/Vader slash

Luke rolled over onto his stomach and groaned, burying his face in the soft pillow. This was ridiculous. Even as a teenager he hadn't been this preoccupied with sex, yet this was the third time this night that he'd awoke from a spine-tingling dream with a mind full of lewd images and an erection that was so hard it bordered on painful.

He cursed in frustration, taking his rebellious cock in his hand and pressing near the base, hoping to dispel the arousal. But his mind was working against him, mired in the images of his dreams - the thoroughly inappropriate, utterly unforgivable dreams.

Here he was, a prisoner trapped on the desolate backwater world home to Darth Vader's private retreat, only days out of the carbonite, still suffering from the suffocating darkness of hibernation sickness, faced with the conflicting knowledge that Vader was both his enemy and his father, looking into an uncertain future, his very soul on the line - and all he could think about was how physically overwhelming Vader was, how disturbing Vader's dominant possession was.

Luke cursed, biting his lip as he tried to push the images away. This was so wrong, in so many ways. But he couldn't seem to quell the flood of images - his body ached with a fierce, unquenchable preoccupation with the Dark Lord and no matter what Luke did to try and stop it, his skin prickled at the thought of the man.

Stars, I have to stop this! He's my father for kreth's sake!

His father.

The moment when he'd realised told that truth was blurred in Luke's memory. He remembered shaking uncontrollably after thawing out from the carbonite, oblivious to everything but the screaming pain in his head as the Force closed in on him. He'd been aware, vaguely, of feeling himself slipping: feeling his connection on life wavering under the assault on his fragile senses. Then Vader's presence had flooded his senses, demanding that he fight back. And they'd been no need for Vader to explain their relationship to Luke: he'd just known.

Luke turned over again, huffing out a breath of annoyance. It would help if he could escape the Dark Lord's presence, even momentarily. But he couldn't; Vader was always at the edge of his awareness, lingering, waiting... a dark shadow teasing at the edge of his thoughts.

At first Luke had suspected that Vader was feeding him these dreams through the Force, trying to send him crazy: trying to make him think he was already too far gone, morally, to stick to the Light Side now. But he'd given up on that blame-shifting exercise when Vader had failed to even mention Luke's dreams.

Then he'd wondered if the carbon-freezing had done something to his mind, screwed up his moral compass somehow. He hadn't completely discounted that idea; the medics seemed so baffled that Luke hadn't regained his eyesight yet and were genuinely fearful of Vader's wrath. They couldn't find any evidence of lasting damage to his eyes or to the visual parts of his brain. But the carbonite-freezing had gone wrong - Luke wasn't supposed to have nearly died - could something be wrong that the medics hadn't found yet?

Luke sighed. The worst of it was that these dreams were so much more vivid than anything he'd ever experienced before. Maybe that was because he couldn't open his eyes and distract himself with the real world. The darkness was crushing, and even though the dreams he had were unsettling... at least they seemed more real than this closeted, smothered existence.

Another image flashed through his mind at that thought, as if chasing on the tail of his memories of the dreams - an image of Vader standing behind him, urging him to bend over with a firm hand pressed into the small of his back. Luke tried to shove the image aside, but he was no more successful this time than he had been on the numerous other occasions when he'd tried to evade the thoughts.

The image stayed with him; Luke imagined obeying his father's silent request, gripping his ankles with his hands and feeling the slight discomfort of stretching his hamstrings to the limit. Could feel the cool leather of Vader's arm where it snaked under his belly and pulled him backwards, holding Luke so that the backs of his thighs brushed the fabric of Vader's clothing and preventing him from bending his knees. Vader's other hand was still pressed against the hollow of Luke's back. It began a slow slide downwards....

Luke groaned, violently throwing the image from his mind. He could hear Uncle Owen's scathing tones in his memory, echoing from a long time ago: 'If you masturbate that much you'll go blind.' And Luke laughed, slightly hysterically, thinking that it should've been: 'If you go blind, you'll masturbate too much.'

It wasn't just masturbation, though. If that had been all it was, Luke might have been able to cope with it. But in these dreams... there was something about Vader's casual domination that called to him. Something about the intimacy, however impersonal and humiliating it could be, that made him feel... whole. Like he belonged, at last.

And he wanted that - needed that. When he snapped free of the dreams, feeling disgusted with himself for conjuring them... there was also an uncomfortable sense of envy of the dream-Luke.

Full of agitated energy, Luke pushed up off the bed and came to his feet. This was ridiculous. He sleep-clothes were clammy and uncomfortable and his skin felt hot. Stubbornly ignoring his arousal, Luke stripped off the clthing and tossed it aside. Maybe a cold shower would help kick his body out of its obsession... though it hadn't worked the last few times he'd tried it.

Luke let out a measured breath and tried to orientate himself in the room. He'd never seen the layout - he'd been blind when Vader had brought him here and he was still blind - but he knew it by feel and touch. The soft carpet against the soles of his feet, and then the smoother flooring when he entered the fresher. He held his arms out in front of him, taking more cautious steps on the slippery floor. His fingers hit the basin and he flicked the cold-water tap on, holding his hands under the spray and throwing it onto his face.

"There are more expedient methods of alleviating your discomfort," a voice behind him said, and Luke started, gripping the edge of the sink with his hands. His father had entered the room behind him - and Luke hadn't even heard him.

"I suppose there's some Force trick you know that I don't know?" he responded automatically, turning around slowly to face his father, although inside he was flushing with embarrassment - half because he was standing there naked... and half at the nauseating thought that the 'discomfort' Vader was referring to might include Luke's dreams. Had he been broadcasting those last images? He couldn't remember.

Vader snorted at Luke's response, a sound that made an odd warbling noise through the vocoder. "I was thinking of something a little more... practical."

Luke went very still at that. "W-what?" he asked, trying to think past what he thought Vader was referring to - trying to persuade himself Vader couldn't possibly know of his dreams....

"Luke..." Vader started to say, and then stopped. Luke waited, wondering if he had the Force skill to call his sleep pants back to his hand and put them on. When Vader didn't continue, Luke shifted uncomfortably. Eventually he spoke. "Your eyesight remains unimproved, I see."

Luke grimaced, feeling scrutinised and not liking it. "Not much use to you blind, am I?"

When Vader had pulled him back from the carbonite, days ago now, there had been a moment when Luke had been in Vader's mind and Vader had been in his. And Luke had glimpsed Vader's plans - plans to remove the Emperor, usurp the throne, reform the Empire... rule as father and son. His father's plans had an almost fairytale quality to them, a childlike naivety that Luke found shocking to find within Darth Vader. But in none of those dreams had Luke been blind.

"The loss of your vision can easily be compensated for with the Force-"

"Well, it hasn't-"

"However," Vader interrupted him, "your vision is not lost. There is nothing wrong with your eyes."

Luke didn't respond to that. This was nothing he hadn't heard before. But there was an edge to Vader's voice now - a clipped impatience. Had the Dark Lord's patience finally run out? What happened now? So far, Luke had been left alone by Vader - no torture, no choking.... Luke had assumed that Vader simply wanted him fit as soon as possible so he could get to work on those plans Luke had seen. And Luke had gone along with that - the sooner he was fit, the sooner he could make a break from here. Once he had his eyesight back, he'd stand a chance of overpowering his guards and finding a way off planet.

Or that had been his initial plan. Now... things were more complicated - and he wasn't getting better.

Luke heard Vader sigh. He felt a spike of apprehension at the sound - he was tired and irritated.... just how much was he broadcasting his thoughts? Luke heard his father approach closer - booted footsteps on the 'fresher floor and the sound of the respirator growing louder - and he backed up hurriedly until his bare backside hit the cold basin edge. "You broadcast your own plans loudly, my son."

Luke clenched the muscles in his jaw. There went his frail hope that Vader didn't know about his plans to escape. "My only 'desire' is to save my soul," he finally said. He couldn't see Vader, and that just added to the feeling of suddenly losing his footing. Vader had caught him off-guard, and Luke grappled for control.

He heard Vader took another step closer, almost within touching distance, Luke fancied, though he wasn't about to reach out and test the reliability of his remaining four senses. Another step. Vader's cloak swayed with his movement, brushing Luke's bare feet. "But save it from what, my son?"

Luke curled his fingers around the basin edge, aware of Vader's overwhelming presence in his Force sense - and then aware that his father had moved closer still when Vader brushed his hand across his cheek. Luke started, but there was nowhere for him to back away to.

"Stop," he hissed, through clenched teeth. "I don't want-"

"But you do. You broadcast your... desires... loudly. Tell me, Luke - why do you deny yourself your every need?"

Luke's heart was going full-throttle. It wasn't just Luke's dreams of escape Vader was talking about now. He knew.

Luke pulled his chin out of Vader's grip. "Because I know how to choose between right and wrong. And this - all of this - is wrong."

"You don't want to leave here - you want to know me," Vader continued relentlessly. "You tell yourself that want to get back to your friends... but you do not want that as much as you want to learn if your dreams would reflect reality. You don't want to have to make that choice. Perhaps... you don't want be able to see, so you do not have to choose."

Luke said nothing.

"Were you never taught to just let go: to act on instinct?" Vader asked, a slight droll of sarcasm in his voice, and Luke flinched as the words reflected ones Ben Kenobi had once said to him, so long ago now. Then Vader added, "After all, when have your instincts ever failed you before?"

Luke snorted. "When they told me to go to Bespin," he answered bitterly.

"No," Vader replied, with a sudden change of tone to solemnity. "That was your heart guiding you. You instincts come from the Force. They did not tell you to resist your heart then - they are not telling you to resist this now."

Luke didn't like the sound of that - Vader made it sound as if he were a puppet for the Force's whims. "I choose not to. I won't be like you."

"Like me? And what is that?"

"You're amoral. You torture and kill to get what you want - you don't care what's good for anyone else but you."

"Is that your opinion, or your Rebel propaganda? Have you seen me fulfil those accusations?"

Luke narrowed his eyes "I choose not to be like that."

Vader's hand rested against his cheek again, lightly. "Then you choose solitude. Loneliness. You choose... my life. You cannot win, Luke."

Luke jerked his head away. "You're trying to confuse me," he said. Kreth, he wished he could see, at least then he wouldn't feel quite so out of control. Without his sight, the rest of his senses had become over-sensitised, and his skin was tingling in expectation.

"I am trying to help you."

"Help me become you!"

Vader was silent for a few moments, apart from the rhythmic hiss of his respirator. "Do you truly believe that?"

Did he? He wasn't sure. Luke shook his head and didn't respond.

"You will inevitably suffer what I have suffered if you choose to reject me now," Vader said.

Luke closed his eyes - not that it made any difference: the darkness in his mind was unending. If only he could see. Luke sighed. "This is worse than being stuck in a stormtrooper helmet. I feel... cut off."

He hadn't realised he'd mutter that aloud until Vader responded. "Then perhaps we should try a different tactic for... reconnecting... you with your senses."

"What do you-" Luke stopped as he felt Vader's hand on his cheek again, and then felt those gloved fingers trace his jaw. He pulled back and the Sith took a step forward, until his thighs were pressing Luke back against the basin wall. And, Luke realised, he was once again becoming aroused by his father's casual dominance - only this time it was real.

"Stop it," he said as Vader's other hand wound around behind him, pressing against the small of his back - pressing Luke closer until his legs straddled Vader's thigh and his rebellious cock was pressed against the rough fabric. "I don't want-"

"We have tried medical intervention, but the medics tell me there is nothing wrong with your eyesight. I have come to the conclusion that perhaps you simply do not want to see that which is in front of you," Vader said.

"Uh," was all Luke could say to that as Vader pulled him closer, his thighs riding up Vader's leg, and the friction against his cock robbed him of any coherent speech.

Vader chuckled, the sound almost too human for Luke to attribute it to Vader. "Trust your instincts, Luke."

He still couldn't speak coherently, so he didn't try. Luke's hands came up, intending to ward off Vader's advances, but he found himself grasping at the Sith, his fingers digging into the padded fabric.

"Luke," Vader said, and the words seemed to echo through his mind as well, "let go."

Luke's breath hitched in his chest. Vader' hand moved from his back, slowly trailing over the curve of his backside and Luke bit his lip in terrified, hopeful expectation. Then there was a tingle of the Force, an alien sensation and Vader's finger pressing through the resistance of his sphincter. There was no lubrication, he was unprepared - but, impossibly, there was little pain.

"I-" Luke started to say, then wasn't certain what his next words were going to be - 'I don't want this' or 'I need more'. It could have been either, so he bit down on the words and kept his silence.

"Let go," Vader said again, his words flowing through Luke's mind.

Luke shuddered. His cock was almost painfully hard, and the pre-ejaculate was enough to lubricate his contact with the Vader's padded thigh. He moved - he couldn't help it, he told himself, and Vader wouldn't let him stop now: Vader was directing this show - and in pushing back down again Vader's gloved finger moved deeper into him.

The feeling of being filled, of Vader's finger deep inside him, blindsided him, and he gulped in a convulsive breath of air. He tipped his head back, lost in the sensation, and saw a light, flashing across his eyes.

"What?" he gasped, arching his back as Vader's hand moved and a second finger was pressing for entry.

"Open your eyes," Vader said - Vader commanded.

"I... I don't understand," Luke gasped, "my eyes are open." And then gripped his father with renewed desperation when the second finger breached his sphincter and the penetration doubled. He pressed his cock against the friction Vader's thigh provided, blanketing the slight burning with the sensation.

"Open yourself to me," Vader said.

Part of him wanted to resist - the Rebel soldier in him wanted to resist, the Yavin hero wanted to fight. But a greater part, including the part that had recognised a feeling of belonging in his illicit dreams, didn't want to fight at all.

He pressed against Vader again, up against his thigh, almost to the point where his feet were struggling to stay on the ground. Vader's bigger body seemed to mould around him, the cool plastisteel armour and the hard lines of the respirator pressing against Luke's heated skin. "I need-"

"Then take what you need," Vader said, in a tone that said Luke should have known he could do that all along.

Luke hissed as his movement shifted Vader's fingers in his ass and they brushed his prostate. His eyes saw... light. In the backwash of the sensation, he caught the faint outline of Vader looming over him, holding Luke against him, the sharp lines of his mask outlined by Luke's faltering vision. Stunned, Luke pressed forward again, the desire tightening in his cock - and again images flashed through his eyes. Colours, too bright and sharp at first. But definitely there.

"What?" he gasped.

Vader replied something - Luke didn't hear it. His mind was scattering, his body abandoning itself to the sensations, his other senses disengaging - apart from his vision, which flashed into life with every movement he made. And all Luke could think about was the image he was making right now. Naked, pressed back against the refresher unit, his thighs straddling the thick muscle of his father's thigh. Grasping at Vader, almost engulfed by the bigger man's body and armour, with his head thrown back in a mixture of delight and despair, his body strung tight with tension and barely checked desire.

"I can't hold on-"

"Then don't," Vader said, and finally Luke felt like he understood what his father was telling him.

The Dark Lord's fingers curled slightly, just enough to rub against his prostrate repeatedly, and Luke shuddered, shivers working down his body. Luke pressed his cock against his father's thigh, again and again, building up a desperate rhythm....

"Let go," his father repeated - and Luke did, his orgasm overtaking him with a blinding intensity. His hands jerked as his muscles spasmed, tightening on Vader. The man grunted, whether in pain or in his own pleasure Luke wasn't sure, and then Luke's vision spasmed, light and images returned with explosive intensity, and Luke sagged against Vader, the life and fight gone from him as his orgasm died away.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Luke heard his own fitful breathing running faster than Vader's rhythmic, unchanging rate of breath. Luke's eyes were closed - he almost daren't open them, afraid that the darkness would be back.

"Luke," Vader said. Luke didn't respond, other than to screw his eyes shut tighter. Part of him couldn't believe what had just happened - part of him desperately hoped he wasn't dreaming again.

But this was very real - he couldn't deny it, not when he could feel Vader removing his hands from his body, allowing Luke to slip back downwards, his feet settling to the floor, his legs feeling limp and lifeless. Luke swallowed thickly.

"Open your eyes," Vader commanded - and Luke did.

And he saw - shapes, shades of grey in the unlit 'fresher, the outline of his father's mask.... it didn't matter what he saw, just that he could see.

He blinked, wincing - he'd lived so long in the dark that even the lights of Vader's life support system seemed too bright. But he stared at them all the same.

"I don't believe it," he said.

The memory of Yoda's voice intruded: "That is why you fail."

Had he failed?

A hand cupped his chin and raised his gaze upwards to stare into his father's mask. He could see a pale reflection of his face in the eye sockets of the mask. Had he failed?

"You do not comprehend your own power, my son."

Luke blinked - saw his reflection blink.

"What do you want from me?"

Vader didn't respond. He released Luke's chin and took a step backwards - and Luke had to grip the edge of the 'fresher basin to keep him still standing on his shaky legs.

Still he didn't respond. The images from Luke's dreams came back to him - images of Vader using him, taking him, with a casual disregard for his feelings. Had that just happened here? Would Vader just walk away, oblivious to the fact that Luke's world was tilting under him? Was he as callous as the Vader in Luke's dreams?

Vader began to turn.

"Father?!" Luke called out, louder than he needed to.

Vader stopped, then turned back around to him. Luke felt his pulse hammering in his ears. "What do you want from me?" he asked again.

For a moment he thought Vader would turn and leave without answering. Then a warmth spread through his body, a wave of... of something from the Force. It definitely came from Vader - and Luke had never felt anything like this in his dreams. An indulgent heat, coming on the back of a flood of indefinable emotions from Vader's mind. This wasn't that callous Dark Lord, Luke told himself. This was his father. This was-

"What do I want?" Vader said, interrupting Luke's line of thought.

Vader leaned closer, and that warm feeling under Luke's skin increased to something that bordered on being too hot, something that could burn as well as warm. Something dangerous, something intoxicating. Luke couldn't have torn his gaze from his father's if he'd wanted to.

"I already have what I want," Vader said. And then, as Luke swallowed thickly, he added, "For now."

END

* Blindsight (Weiscrantz, 1986) - The phenomena whereby an individual with a lesion in the brain's primary visual region, V1, can nevertheless perceive objects, and make appropriate responses to this 'blindsight', at a level below conscious recognition.

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