Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/291174.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_Prequel_Trilogy
  Relationship:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Anakin_Skywalker, Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Original_Female_Character
  Character:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi, Anakin_Skywalker
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-08-10 Words: 6633
****** On the Rocks ******
by Butterfly
Summary
     Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the appeal of the flesh.
Liquid heat flowed over Obi-Wan’s tongue, and then blazed its way down his
throat.
He clapped the shotglass on the table, motioning to the bartender to refill it.
The bartender, a shifty-eyed Weequay with a scar across his left cheek,
hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Obi-Wan’s left hip, where his
lightsaber hung, exposed, and then the bartender nodded, pouring more of the
pale liquor into the glass.
Obi-Wan cocked his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He reached forward, picked up the glass of qanreck and downed it, enjoying the
burn.
“You look like you’re having fun, maybe a little too much fun, considering the
outfit.” It was a husky female voice, coming from behind him, on the right.
Obi-Wan twisted on his chair, running his gaze bottom to top. “Are you really a
Jedi, or are you playing?”
She was human, and Corellian by the sound of her.
Slim, bare legs led up to generous hips and then to a trim waist, made more so
by a tight corset. Obi-Wan’s gaze then lingered for a moment on dusky skin
showcased by the low neckline of her pale dress.
Her lips were colored a deep red, and were quirked in an amused smile. Her eyes
were a warm dark brown, and she had tiny green gems pressed in a line across
her forehead, sparking in the low light of the bar. Her curly black hair was
shot through with glittering strands of gold and silver.
Very nicely put together, though not his usual type.
“The Order does not entirely disallow enjoying oneself,” Obi-Wan said,
carefully. There were no stools available, so she slipped right up next to him,
standing close enough for him to smell not just the light traces of some musky
perfume, but also the clean and inviting scent of her skin underneath.
“That’s not an answer, but I don’t really mind. You look enough like the real
thing,” she purred, her hand covering his on the counter. Her gaze shot to his
lightsaber. “And so does that.”
Her fingers stroked the back of his hand, an invitation very clear in the
teasing touch.
Obi-Wan licked his lips, sorely tempted to accept. A release of the flesh was
nothing as grand and lasting as the release found in meditation and yet, this
night, he found that he longed for the physical.
She shifted towards him, her other hand landing on his thigh. Obligingly, Obi-
Wan turned slightly toward her, and she moved up close, standing between his
legs.
And she was warm and beautiful, and he ached to touch her.
He slowly slid his fingers along the smooth skin of her shoulder, and she
pressed up against him, her lust mixing with relief at his positive reaction to
her advances. She wanted him and that feeling, the want and the knowing that he
could sate it, was a fire that no amount of qanreck could match.
She was leaning in towards him and he was looking forward to tasting her mouth,
seeing what she’d had to drink this evening, when he felt Anakin enter the bar.
Sensing that was rather like falling into an ice-cold river, dousing his
arousal in seconds.
He froze where he was, and she sensed the change, looking at him with confused
eyes.
Obi-Wan could see Anakin just over her shoulder, the light from doorway turning
him into an ominous silhouette of light and shadow.
Then the door closed behind him and he was Anakin again, strangely vulnerable
without his braid, but still just Anakin. Anakin, of course, spotted him
immediately and Obi-Wan could feel the smallest hints of emotion – anger, hurt,
fear– before Anakin’s walls slammed down.
Obi-Wan pulled away from the woman with an apologetic smile.
“I’m very sorry,” he said gently. “My plans for the night just changed.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then shivered, pulling away from Obi-Wan and
hurrying off into the crowd.
Anakin’s expression was shuttered, but Obi-Wan could see why she’d left so
quickly – Anakin’s hand hovered near his lightsaber and his eyes were cold.
Obi-Wan reached up to rub at the knot of tension forming between his eyebrows
and then turned back to the bar, motioning to the bartender, who poured him
another shot with a shaking hand, spilling a small amount of the expensive
liquor on the counter.
As if he’d never seen a pair of Jedi before.
Obi-Wan took the glass and drank it quickly, thought about ordering another.
“You’re drunk.” Anakin’s voice, almost shrill in its accusatory tone.
“I’m drinking,” Obi-Wan corrected him, deciding to go ahead and signal for
another shot. Anakin’s left hand landed over the top of the glass, strong
fingers curling around the edges.
“You’ve had enough,” he said.
“You really have no say in the matter, my young-“ Obi-Wan cut the words off
before he could make a fool of himself. Unlike some, he didn’t tend pout over
the unfairness of the universe, but it seemed profoundly wrong that his one
sure-fire way of checking Anakin’s ego was no longer available. “Well, it isn’t
up to you, in any case.”
“Master, please,” Anakin said, and his voice had lost that annoying demanding
quality. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you in private, one Jedi to
another.”
Obi-Wan glanced sharply at the bartender, who immediately decided that he
wasn’t interested in watching them after all, and then at Anakin, who held
himself so straight and tall in here. Anakin had never developed Obi-Wan’s
fondness for bars.
Perhaps that was for the best.
“Not here, then, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin relaxed a little. “I
understand that you’ve already been assigned your new rooms.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said.
“Perhaps there,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin nodded, attempting a smile. It wasn’t a
terribly successful try, ending up somewhat closer to a grimace.
“After you,” Anakin said, gesturing with his right hand.
Obi-Wan made his way out of the bar, intensely aware of Anakin walking a few
feet behind him. He had the oddest sense of being herded, as if he were
unreliable livestock on the way to the slaughterhouse.
He signaled for an air cab and climbed in, sliding over to make room for
Anakin.
“The Jedi Temple,” Anakin said, his eyes still on Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan turned his head and gazed out the window of the cab, though he didn’t
actually notice any of the traffic outside. Next to him, Anakin was a blaze of
carefully contained energy, giving Obi-Wan no hint as to his intentions.
He felt Anakin’s gaze on the back of his neck the entire ride to the Temple,
but he determinedly ignored it, shoring up his own shields to hide his
curiosity from Anakin. Obi-Wan wanted them to be in private when Anakin went
off on whatever had gotten him so very emotional, and Anakin seemed inclined to
humor him.
The plaza walkway in front of the Temple was filled with people, some Jedi,
most not. Anakin took the lead here, and then in the Temple, moving swiftly
through the crowds, his expectation pulling Obi-Wan forward with him.
They didn’t pass anyone that Obi-Wan felt obliged to greet, which was something
of a relief, as the power of Anakin’s emotions was quite obvious up close,
though the nature of them stayed hidden.
Soon enough, far too soon, they had reached Anakin’s new apartment and, with a
graceful wave of his hand, Anakin willed open the door and then strolled
inside, briefly glancing over his shoulder to look at Obi-Wan with unreadable
blue eyes.
Anakin’s new rooms were three floors higher than his old quarters with Obi-Wan,
and fifty feet farther from the nearest stairwell.
Still, they seemed far too close together.
Obi-Wan had not yet received a new assignment, but it was almost a certainty
that he would be entirely on his own – Masters were usually assigned solo
missions after their Padawans had been knighted, to get them used to their own
company again before they took a new apprentice.
And once he had a new apprentice, he’d barely see Anakin at all, considering
the demands of the war.
To be so near to Anakin and yet not be his Master – it was not a pleasant
thought, not after they’d come so far in the past year.
So, to his chagrin, Obi-Wan found himself pausing before the threshold of
Anakin’s apartment, hovering between the old and the new.
Obi-Wan could feel Anakin strengthening and personalizing the standard room
shields, and it was becoming apparent that Anakin really did want to talk, and
that he wanted to assure their privacy. Obi-Wan only hoped that it wasn’t…
something he would need to lie to the Council about.
One deep breath, in and out, and Obi-Wan willed himself to let go of his fears
and his regrets.
He walked into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.
Here, they were cut off from the energy of the Temple – Obi-Wan could feel the
life thrumming around them, but it was muted to an indecipherable hum, no
single person standing out. Just as any emotions coming out of this room would
be turned sideways, their origin and content impossible to guess, even for a
Master as powerful and wise as Yoda.
“You’ve been working on your shielding,” Obi-Wan noted, taking in the room.
The floor was softly carpeted in the same neutral beige that favored his own
rooms. There was a lighter-colored couch angled to face the entrance and two
closed doors on the left side of the room, which would lead to Anakin’s bedroom
and to his kitchen.
The room was still bare and empty, even of emotional traces. It had been a long
time since this room had been used – possibly not even in Obi-Wan’s lifetime,
as they had far more rooms than they had Jedi to fill them, these days.
The most vibrant thing in the room was Anakin, waiting patiently, his dark
clothes standing out against the light surroundings, his Force-signature making
the energy around him shimmer with potential.
“Well, here we are,” Obi-Wan said, holding his arms out in an exaggerated
gesture of surrender. “You did say you wanted to talk.”
Anakin gestured towards the window, tinting it, darkening the room and hiding
them from the city outside.
“I did,” he said. An uncertain smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Did you want to sit down?”
“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin nodded slightly, prowling towards Obi-Wan,
running his hand along the back of the couch as he passed it. “Anakin, focus.
What did you want to tell me?”
“It’s… complicated,” Anakin said.
“I hope so,” Obi-Wan said. “If it were simple, you could have just told me in
the bar and we wouldn’t have needed to come here.”
There was a clear flash of anger from Anakin, quickly tamped down.
“The Jedi Council has given me my first assignment as a Knight,” Anakin said,
pulling off his cloak and tossing it back onto the couch. “I’m going to go to
the second moon of Jurkesh and look into possible Separatist influences there.”
“Jurkesh is almost in the Outer Rim,” Obi-Wan said. “Who’s accompanying you?”
“You don’t think that I can handle a simple investigation?” Anakin asked.
“That’s not what I said and it is certainly not what I meant,” Obi-Wan said.
“Then what did you mean?” Anakin asked, tilting his chin up challengingly.
“Merely that I do doubt that the Council would so quickly give you a solo
assignment after what happened on your last one,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin pressed
his lips into a thin line, and Obi-Wan was certain that there was far too much
anger hidden under those new shields of his. “You disobeyed the Council,
Anakin. They don’t reward Jedi for that. It will take time to earn back their
trust.”
“That was almost a year ago,” Anakin said.
“You really think that Master Windu has forgotten?” Obi-Wan asked.
“He’s a Jedi Master,” Anakin said. “I’m sure that he’s moved past it. The
Council has seen that I’ve changed, why haven’t you?”
“Anakin, this can’t be why you asked me here,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin had
never been shy about openly voicing his disapproval of Obi-Wan’s methods, even
in front of the other Masters.
Anakin’s mouth twisted slightly in annoyance.
“No, it isn’t,” he said, touching the small tuft of hair left from the severing
of his Padawan braid. “This is about your promise.”
“What promise?” Obi-Wan asked, pushing away the queasy feeling in the pit of
his stomach.
“I’m not your Padawan anymore,” Anakin said, moving a step closer to Obi-Wan.
“Not your apprentice, not your responsibility.”
“Oh, that promise,” Obi-Wan said, wishing for a moment that they were having
the uncomfortable talk that he’d thought they were going to have, about
Anakin’s not-quite-discreet-enough visits to Senator Amidala. Though now he
could certainly see just why Anakin had wanted to have this talk in private.
“You remembered that.”
“I’ve thought of nothing else for the past week,” Anakin said.
To be perfectly honest, Obi-Wan hadn’t given the promise much thought since,
well, since he’d made it. He’d always assumed that Anakin had forgotten it
years ago as well.
Apparently, he’d been wrong.
“You’ve been hiding it well,” Obi-Wan said.
“As you noticed earlier, I’ve been working on my shielding,” Anakin said. “I
wanted to surprise you.”
“You succeeded,” Obi-Wan said, carefully. “I didn’t sense a thing.”
“Are you impressed?” Anakin asked now, a boyish, eager smile on his face.
Without the braid, he looked so much younger than twenty-one.
“Are you impressed?” Anakin had asked Obi-Wan then, a shy smile making him look
even younger than his sixteen years. “I made it myself.”
His open palm had been holding a small blue oblong stone, with tiny, beautiful
designs etched into the surface….
“Did you use the Force to do that?” Obi-Wan asked, reaching out to stroke his
finger over the warmed surface of the stone. Anakin nodded, and Obi-Wan could
feel his emotions trembling and tumbling, forever in motion. Obi-Wan carefully
pressed Anakin’s fingers back over the stone, closing his hand. “You know that
I can’t accept it.”
“But I made it for you,” Anakin said. “You have to take it.”
“Anakin, a Jedi has no possessions,” Obi-Wan said. “Give this to someone who
can keep it.”
Anakin shook his head, still holding his hand out towards Obi-Wan.
“You need it,” he said, fiercely. “Please take it, Master.”
“Why do I need it?” Obi-Wan asked, patiently.
“Just… look,” Anakin told him, opening his hand again. “Please.”
Cautiously, Obi-Wan plucked the stone from Anakin’s palm, bringing it up to the
light.
The designs were protection symbols, in a dozen languages, carved almost too
small even for Obi-Wan to read. Here, Anakin entreated in sharp Huttese for
Obi-Wan to stay uninjured. On the other side, the curving letters of
Jur’e’ethee asked for Obi-Wan’s spirit to endure through any trials he might
face. So many different words for safety, protection, and hope were embedded
into the stone, and made it a truly fitting gift from his superstitious desert
child.
“It’s beautiful,” Obi-Wan whispered, noticing that the stone was glowing in the
Force, so much of Anakin’s will had been poured into it in the making.
“You like it,” Anakin said, pride puffing him up. Obi-Wan closed his hand
around the stone tightly, not quite able to speak through the lump in his
throat. “And it’s yours, you have to see that now. It can’t belong to anyone
else.”
“Anakin, Jedi do not own anything,” Obi-Wan managed to say at last.
“But they do,” Anakin said softly, as if telling him a secret. “So many of them
do, Master.”
“That does not make it right,” Obi-Wan said.
“Doesn’t it?” Anakin asked, and he’d sounded so quiet and confused.
“Something that is wrong stays wrong no matter how many people do it,” Obi-Wan
said. He held the stone out to Anakin. Anakin looked at him with dark eyes,
lower lip trembling with emotion.
“You don’t have to keep it forever,” he said, finally. “Just… just until you
get back.”
“Is that what this is about?” Obi-Wan asked, concerned. “Anakin, you don’t need
to worry about me.”
“You’re going to be gone for a month,” Anakin said, making the word ‘month’
sound as final as ‘forever’. “Anything could happen.”
“Do you really think me so incompetent?” Obi-Wan asked lightly.
“No, of course not,” Anakin said, earnestly. “I just… they won’t let me go. You
won’t let me go. But if you take it with you, then, maybe…”
“What?” Obi-Wan asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
“You’ll remember that you have a reason to be careful,” Anakin said, and it was
almost a surprise to remember that he wasn’t Anakin’s first hope, that when
Qui-Gon had died, Anakin must have feared that his hopes of being a Jedi had
died with him. That Anakin both relied on Obi-Wan to be there for him and yet
had good reason to fear that the day would come when Obi-Wan would fail him.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently, still not entirely sure of how to deal with
Anakin’s surplus of affection, even after seven years of living in close
quarters. “I don’t need a piece of rock to remind myself of that.”
The corners of Anakin’s lips turned up in an unsure smile, and Obi-Wan was
suddenly, strangely aware that they were standing quite close, that his hand
was still stretched out towards Anakin, and that Anakin was only a bare inch
shorter than he was.
“Master, I will take it back,” Anakin told him, in a soft, breathy voice. “But
only if you allow me to give you something in its place.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, to say that any new gift would have the
same problems as this one, when Anakin moved forward and placed his lips on
Obi-Wan’s.
Pure shock froze Obi-Wan in place.
Anakin’s lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss against Obi-Wan’s lower lip.
His movements were slightly clumsy, unskilled, and Obi-Wan could feel him
trembling.
And he was terrified.
That was enough to break Obi-Wan out of his surprise, and he reacted instantly,
pulling out of the kiss and backing away from Anakin.
Obi-Wan was disturbed to notice that his own breathing had become unsteady.
“What made you think that was even the slightest bit appropriate?” Obi-Wan
asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Anakin said firmly, but he was still
shivering. “There’s a Padawan in my ‘saber club, she told me-“
“Who?” Obi-Wan asked sharply.
Anakin blinked and seemed to come back into himself.
“I’m not going to get her in trouble,” he said.
“You won’t,” Obi-Wan said. “But her Master must be reported to the Council.”
“Why?” Anakin asked, defiantly. “They just love each other. There isn’t
anything wrong with that.”
“There wouldn’t be, if they were ordinary citizens,” Obi-Wan said. “But they
have sworn their lives to the Jedi Order and that entails certain sacrifices.
The Order can’t have its Knights placing a beloved above the will of the
Force.”
“They have to trust the Order and the Code over the people they care about,”
Anakin said.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. “That’s part of the primary philosophy.”
“You trust the Order,” Anakin said with great confidence. “Above anything
else.”
“I suppose so,” Obi-Wan said, with rather less assurance.
“Then I don’t see why we can’t-“
“You are my Padawan!” The force of Obi-Wan’s words made Anakin shrink back,
lose some of his cocky certainty. Obi-Wan gentled his tone, reaching for
serenity. “You are my apprentice and my responsibility. Doing what you ask
would a betrayal of the oath that I took as your Master. It would be against
the Code and against everything that we both hold dear.”
Anakin nodded, reluctantly.
“You’re right, I am your Padawan,” he said. “But I won’t always be.”
“Anakin-“
“You know what I noticed, Master,” Anakin said. “I noticed that in that long
list of reasons, you never said that you didn’t want to.”
“Didn’t I?” Obi-Wan asked, almost to himself.
“No, you didn’t,” Anakin said. “And one day, we’ll both be Jedi Knights.”
“Unless you get us killed before that,” Obi-Wan said, reflexively.
“And when we’re both Knights, and since you would never place anything above
the will of the Force,” Anakin said, ignoring Obi-Wan’s words. “You won’t have
any reasons left. Sexual relationships, as such, are not forbidden among Jedi.
Just... dangerous attachments.”
“Anakin, I know that you think that you want me,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin shot him
an exasperated look. “But if you give it some time and explore your options,
you’ll soon realize that, beyond any greater issues, we’re simply not suited
for any sort of sexual relationship.”
“You really believe that?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan inclined his head in answer.
“Well, then, you won’t mind granting a small request.”
“What request?” Obi-Wan asked.
“If I still want you, after I’m a Knight, you’ll give me a chance,” Anakin
said. “A fair one.”
“Anakin, you won’t-“
“Then it shouldn’t be a hard promise to make,” Anakin said simply.
Obi-Wan rubbed his thumb over the blue stone still nestled in the palm of his
hand. This wasn’t about sex, he decided. Sex was just… convenient. This was
about Anakin trying to ensure that his place in Obi-Wan’s life was secure. When
Anakin realized that he didn’t have anything to fight for, that he already had
what he wanted, he’d soon let go of this new idea.
“Very well,” he said. Anakin stared at him for a long moment, clearly waiting
for more. Obi-Wan sighed and reminded himself that, just two weeks ago, Anakin
had been telling him about a breathtakingly beautiful girl that he’d spotted in
the plaza. Anakin had been halfway to planning a wedding with her, for all of
an afternoon. In the end, a promise that would be forgotten so soon was such a
small thing, only the slightest of surrenders. “I give you my word, Anakin.”
“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said. He bowed his head and then headed for the
door, turning back only to say, “May the Force be with you.”
Then he left and Obi-Wan felt a tiny pang of doubt after the door slid closed
behind him.
He pushed it away and walked to Anakin’s room, carefully placing the small blue
stone in the center of Anakin’s bedspread.
Anakin likely wouldn’t find it until that evening and, by then, Obi-Wan would
already be gone.
And by the time Obi-Wan got back from his mission, Anakin would have found
someone new to admire.
He was certain of it….
He’d been so certain.
And when he’d returned from the Outer Rim, Anakin hadn’t seemed angry or upset
at him, just full of complaints about his brief stint of training under Quinlan
Vos and equally full of glowing words for Vos’ comely apprentice Aayla. Obi-Wan
had slotted the promise away and forgotten about it.
Clearly, that had been a mistake.
“Your technique has certainly improved,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin glowed with
pride.
“Thank you,” Anakin said. He glanced away for a moment, shyly, and Obi-Wan
reflected that, all things considered, it was very fortunate for Anakin that
most Jedi focused only on what they felt in the Force. He could hide his
emotions behind that shield quite well, but so many of his feelings showed up
in his face, especially in his eyes.
Anakin reached down to one of the pouches on his belt and pulled something out,
tossing it to Obi-Wan, who caught it without thinking.
It thrummed in his hand, sending out waves of hope and longing.
When he opened his hand, he wasn’t surprised to see a small blue stone. The
lettering was still crisp and clear, and Anakin’s energy signature had sunk
even further into it in the past five years. It was warm in his hand, slightly
warmer than body temperature, and he suspected that it always was.
It sang of Anakin and of dangerous things.
Of roads that should not be taken.
Of a promise that Obi-Wan should never have allowed himself to make.
But he’d made it, foolish as it had been. He couldn’t take it back.
And in the clarity of the moment, he realized that he didn’t want to take it
back.
The Force told him nothing, one way or the other, but by the rules of the
Order, this would be more than a mistake. He was already far too attached to
Anakin and adding the dimension of the physical could only make that attachment
stronger.
Even if he didn’t entirely see how that was possible.
But he’d been wrong about so much of this already.
And now he had two conflicting promises – one to the Order, one to Anakin.
In the end, the choice wasn’t a choice at all.
He already knew which path he was going to follow.
Obi-Wan held the stone out towards Anakin, who was still looking at him, and
there was fear in his eyes, and hope.
“As a Jedi, I can’t accept this,” Obi-Wan said, his voice calm and certain.
“However, I might be willing to trade it for something greater.”
Anakin’s lips parted and his eyes widened, and some part of Obi-Wan was
gratified at Anakin’s surprise, that Anakin hadn’t taken his answer for
granted.
Anakin took a shaky step forward and it seemed as though he couldn’t decide
whether he wanted to stare at Obi-Wan’s eyes or his mouth. Obi-Wan stayed where
he was, hesitant to make the first advance.
Anakin’s left hand closed over his, pressing the warmth of the stone into Obi-
Wan’s palm. Anakin stared down at where their hands touched, and his breathing
was unsteady.
Anakin placed his right hand, his gloved hand, on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and
looked at Obi-Wan’s mouth again, his gaze intent and hungry, desire radiating
out from him in steady pulses.
He let go of Obi-Wan’s hand, the fingers of his left hand trembling as they
pressed against Obi-Wan’s mouth, moved to trace the shape of Obi-Wan’s lips. He
stroked his fingers over Obi-Wan’s cheek, lips pressed together in
concentration as he tested the grain of Obi-Wan’s beard.
It was flattering to be the subject of such an intense examination, but Obi-Wan
found that, soon enough, he couldn’t wait for Anakin to satisfy his curiosity.
And it was Obi-Wan who pushed forward, closing the short distance between them,
capturing Anakin’s mouth with his own.
Anakin let out a gasp of surprise, his hand tightening on Obi-Wan’s shoulder,
bunching up the fabric of Obi-Wan’s tunic under his fingers. Anakin’s mouth was
open under Obi-Wan’s now and Obi-Wan took full advantage, tasting Anakin’s full
lower lip, daring to dart his tongue inside Anakin’s mouth to taste that as
well.
Anakin tasted lightly of some sugared fruit and, more intensely, of something
that Obi-Wan found that he couldn’t identify at all.
For years, Anakin had been everything sweet and good and pure in Obi-Wan’s
life, even when he’d worked to make Obi-Wan miserable and frustrated beyond
belief. It was somewhat maddening to admit, now, that his feelings for Anakin
were not at all pure. That they hadn’t been for some time.
The stone fell from Obi-Wan’s suddenly nerveless fingers, and he could hear it
land with a gentle thump onto the carpeted floor.
Anakin was calm under Obi-Wan’s touch, responding to the kiss gently, his warm
hand pressed lightly against Obi-Wan’s neck, softly urging Obi-Wan up into his
mouth.
Anakin always was better behaved when he was getting what he wanted.
Obi-Wan tilted his head for a better angle, his hands moving to Anakin’s belt
before he’d consciously thought about it. Once there, it seemed so natural to
undo it, pull it away and let it fall to the floor.
Anakin whimpered against him, hesitantly slipping his tongue into Obi-Wan’s
mouth. It felt like a reward, like a new gift.
With Anakin’s belt gone, Obi-Wan could slide a hand up under his tunic, and
feel the quivering muscles of Anakin’s firm, smooth stomach.
He curved his fingers around Anakin’s waist, tugging him closer. He moved his
other hand up to Anakin’s shoulder, pushing the tunic back and away so that he
could touch the tempting, golden skin of Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin moaned,
taking his hand off of Obi-Wan so that he could slip his arm out of the tunic.
Obi-Wan was more than happy to help, and then they kissed for a long moment,
Anakin’s chest half-uncovered.
Obi-Wan slid his fingers down Anakin’s chest, circling the pad of his thumb
around Anakin’s nipple, which was already tight and hard. Anakin jerked against
him, panting into Obi-Wan’s mouth.
“Master, please,” Anakin said roughly, and the flash of arousal that shot
through Obi-Wan was disturbing in its intensity. Obi-Wan closed his eyes,
gliding a hand around to the small of Anakin’s back, pushing Anakin up against
him.
Anakin was not a child any longer, he reminded himself, and there the proof
was, in the hard cock pressing up against his thigh. More than that, Anakin was
not his apprentice anymore.
This had nothing to do with that.
“Call me Obi-Wan,” he said, and some of his desperation bled through into his
voice.
Anakin nodded, those full lips of his mouthing the word, and Obi-Wan pressed up
again, tasting a little bit of himself in Anakin’s mouth. He pulled Anakin’s
hand away from his shoulder, slipping Anakin’s tunic off of that side, too,
letting the fabric fall to the ground, leaving Anakin half-naked.
Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure that half was good enough, but Anakin’s hips were
hitching up against him, and it was enough for now. His hand slipped down
further, sliding under the fabric of Anakin’s pants, resting on the firm swell
of Anakin’s ass.
Though the shields around the room itself were tied off, independent of
Anakin’s will, Anakin’s personal shields had been flickering for some time,
washing Obi-Wan in rolling waves of lust, mixed with a surprising amount of
tenderness.
With one hand, Obi-Wan held Anakin steady against him, and with the other, he
continued to stroke and explore the pale gold of Anakin’s exposed skin. That
lovely color had to be some gift of the desert, and Obi-Wan felt a strong,
strange desire to go there, to see Anakin’s homeland. To kneel in sun-warm sand
and speak words of gratitude and praise to the world that had given him his
beautiful, powerful boy.
Obi-Wan leaned against Anakin’s shoulder, turning his face to kiss the sweat
and salt from Anakin’s skin. Anakin was shivering and shuddering against him,
his hips moving faster, losing their rhythm.
Anakin was making soft, pleading noises, lost in a place beyond words.
“My dear, sweet Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, running his fingers down Anakin’s
arm, stopping at where the skin met fabric-covered durasteel. He felt a brief,
uncontrollable surge of anger toward Dooku, but it was quickly overtaken by the
hunger that raced through his veins. He caressed the divide between flesh and
metal, one finger slipping below the edge of the glove, and Anakin mewled
helplessly, his hands tightly clenched on the shoulders of Obi-Wan’s tunic. “My
Anakin.”
Anakin bucked up against him, letting out a sharp, wordless cry of release.
And then he was trembling and limp in Obi-Wan’s arms, his satisfied languor
mixed with traces of embarrassment.
“You’re still dressed,” Anakin complained, as soon as he had the breath to
speak. Then he looked down, noticing the growing wet spot on his trousers. “I’m
still dressed.”
“Yes, well, you’re young, yet,” Obi-Wan said, controlling the urge to wince at
the words once they’d been said. “You’ll get your chance, I suspect.”
Joy burst out of Anakin at Obi-Wan’s words, and Obi-Wan was being kissed again,
fiercely and gratefully.
“I knew you wanted me,” Anakin said after, still close enough that Obi-Wan
could feel his words as well as hear them. “I knew.”
“Yes, yes, you were right and I was wrong,” Obi-Wan said, pulling back and
brushing his knuckles over Anakin’s swollen lips. “Self-satisfaction isn’t an
attractive quality, Anakin.”
Anakin’s lips parted and he lightly licked at Obi-Wan’s knuckles. Obi-Wan
suppressed a shudder of lust, pulling his hand away. Anakin’s tongue swept over
his lower lip, leaving it glistening slickly.
“We still need to take care of you,” Anakin said, pressing his fingers against
the bulge in Obi-Wan’s pants. “We can do anything you want.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t tear his gaze away from Anakin’s lips, wet and pink. He
reached out again, brushing the pads of his fingers against Anakin’s mouth,
pushing the tips of two fingers into Anakin’s mouth. Anakin’s lips closed
around Obi-Wan’s fingers, sucking at them, scraping his teeth against them
lightly.
Obi-Wan let out a heavy, unsteady breath, allowing his fingers to slip out of
Anakin’s mouth again, painting Anakin’s nipple with his own saliva.
Anakin hissed with pleasure, closing his gloved hand around Obi-Wan’s wrist. He
looked at Obi-Wan with heavy-lidded eyes, the dark blue irises almost eclipsed
by black. He licked his lips, smiling slyly when Obi-Wan shivered with desire.
Anakin’s gaze stayed firmly on Obi-Wan’s, as Anakin slowly sank to his knees,
still holding onto Obi-Wan’s wrist.
Anakin moved Obi-Wan’s hand to the back of his head, and Obi-Wan sank his
fingers into Anakin’s hair, grateful to have something to hold onto.
Obi-Wan was distracted from the thought of asking Anakin to let his hair grow
out now that he was a Knight when Anakin leaned forward, pressing his cheek
against Obi-Wan’s cock. Even through two layers of material, the touch made
Obi-Wan gasp, his hand tightening in Anakin’s hair. 
Anakin’s satisfaction pulsed through the Force.
It should have been off-putting, as Anakin’s arrogance usually was, but
somehow, in this particular situation, Obi-Wan found that it only made him
harder, only made him want Anakin more.
Anakin pulled away and Obi-Wan felt a sharp twinge of disappointment.
“Are you sure that you don’t want to sit down?” Anakin asked, looking up at him
with a cocky grin and knowing eyes. Obi-Wan glanced over at the couch and
licked his lips thoughtfully. Now that Anakin mentioned it, it seemed like a
wonderful idea, sitting down.
Obi-Wan strode over, carefully moving Anakin’s cloak to one side, and then
dropping down onto the couch. It was, he thought, a shade less comfortable than
the one in their rooms.
When he looked up again, Anakin was still kneeling on the floor, facing away
from him.
“Were you planning on joining me?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Did you want company?” Anakin asked in honeyed tones, glancing over his
shoulder and smiling coyly as he met Obi-Wan’s gaze.
“Yes.”
Anakin let out a pleased sigh, twisting around to face Obi-Wan. He rose from
the floor in a single graceful movement, and then stalked towards Obi-Wan,
intent. The dampened front of his pants clung to him, clearly outlining his
cock, which was once again beginning to harden.
He stopped just in front of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan couldn’t resist the urge to
reach out and hook his thumbs under the edges of Anakin’s pants. He tugged
gently, and the material crept down Anakin’s hips for a moment until it caught,
revealing only the very beginning of a thatch of dark blond hair.
He stroked his fingers against Anakin’s skin, tracing the lines of muscle
across and down, slipping his fingers under the material and pulling it out as
he dragged it down.
He released his hold on Anakin’s pants and, with nothing holding them up, they
fell around his ankles, useless.
Anakin was half-hard, and breathing heavily. With just a few moments of work,
Obi-Wan was certain that he could have Anakin gasping and moaning again,
trembling for his touch.
Obi-Wan started to reach out to touch Anakin’s cock, but his hand was caught,
trapped in an unyielding grasp.
“No,” Anakin said, and his voice was soft, but firm. “This isn’t just about me.
I’m not going to let you make this all about me.”
“Are you saying that you don’t want me to touch you?” Obi-Wan asked, inflecting
his voice with the faintest traces of sarcasm. Anakin’s lips pressed together,
his grip momentarily tightening around Obi-Wan’s wrist.
“I’m saying that you don’t get to walk away thinking that nothing’s changed,”
Anakin said, boldly, arrogantly. “That we haven’t changed.”
“Oh, so sex with you is supposed to be a life-changing event?” Obi-Wan asked,
as though that were the most ridiculous idea in the universe. “It’s just sex,
Anakin. That’s all.”
“If you’d just wanted sex, you’d have fucked that girl from the bar,” Anakin
said. “This is about us, about me and about you.”
“It’s about mutual lust,” Obi-Wan said.
“It’s about love,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan flinched involuntarily.
“No, it isn’t,” he said softly. “This is just passion, and passion fades in
time.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me that everything ends?” Anakin asked. “You can’t
live your life avoiding something just because you’re scared to lose it.”
“I’m not afraid,” Obi-Wan said, looking away from Anakin. “I’m a Jedi, Anakin.
I choose to live my life according to certain values. If you… if you do love
me, then you have to respect that.”
Anakin let go of Obi-Wan’s hand. When Obi-Wan glanced back over at him, he was
pulling his pants back up over his hips. His shields were up again, but Obi-Wan
could see his lip trembling as he tried to control his emotions. And this, too,
was Anakin. He had to have everything or he would take nothing at all.
“You were right, you know,” Anakin said quietly, all the confident arrogance of
before gone as if it had never existed. “The Council isn’t sending me to
Jurkesh alone.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t find it in himself to say anything.
“You’re coming with me,” Anakin said, his voice catching slightly on the word
‘with’. “We get to stay together, as a team. They agreed to let me tell you in
person, instead of waiting until you met with the Council tomorrow.”
“That’s… that’s good news,” Obi-Wan said, doing his best to smile.
“Yes, I was…” Anakin glanced up at him, swallowed hard. “I was pleasantly
surprised to hear it.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, entreatingly. “Don’t let this… mistake spoil things.”
“No, you’re right,” Anakin said. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “We live
in a real world, after all, and Jedi aren’t allowed to love.”
“Anakin-“
“Stop trying to make it easier,” Anakin said. “Just… just go.”
Silently, Obi-Wan got up from the couch and started to walk towards the door.
Halfway there, he felt an odd pull in the Force. He glanced down to see
Anakin’s blue stone almost touching his left foot.
He glanced back at Anakin, who had his eyes closed tightly and his walls up
higher than Obi-Wan had ever seen them before.
Obi-Wan bent down and picked up the stone, turning it over in his hand.
Here, Anakin had asked that Obi-Wan never face any danger that he couldn’t
overcome. When Obi-Wan moved his thumb to the side, he could see a prayer that
Obi-Wan would always find his way back home, back to Anakin.
Obi-Wan let out an unsteady breath, slipped the stone into a small pouch, and
then continued out the door.
He would see Anakin tomorrow, after he spoke with the Council about his newest
mission. And then he and Anakin would slog through some temporary
uncomfortableness with each other, but eventually, things would get back to
normal.
Back to the way things should be, the way that they had to be for Anakin and
Obi-Wan to work together peacefully.
Being a Jedi meant letting go of desires, of needs and fears.
One day, Anakin would understand that.
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