Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/344024.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_Prequel_Trilogy
  Relationship:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi/Anakin_Skywalker
  Character:
      Obi-Wan_Kenobi, Anakin_Skywalker
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-02-20 Words: 2457
****** Unlocked ******
by sarisel
Summary
     Some confessions take weeks to make.
Notes
     Set before Episode II. Shameless smut. Features BDSM, body-piercing,
     and two characters that enjoy it. Though legal in a galaxy far, far
     away, Anakin is under eighteen.
Anakin's tongue swept up Obi-Wan's cock, leaving a glistening trail behind when
he lifted his mouth away. "Tell me."
"I'm a tad distracted!"
"I could stop," Anakin offered and bent to kiss the tip again. Wetness smeared
his lips, but he made no attempt to wipe it away. Obi-Wan tasted sweet, as if
he'd been adding too much honey to his tea.
Obi-Wan groaned, pupils widening. His toes curled around the sheet. "Of course
I have fantasies. I'm having one right now."
"But this one's obvious. Tell me the kind you'd never share with anyone."
"Anakin--"
Anakin nuzzled Obi-Wan's shaft. It throbbed against his cheek like a velvet
heart. "Please?"
Obi-Wan shut his eyes. After a long moment, he drew the cover over his lap.
Anakin sat up, frowning. The Force no longer hummed between them, their mind-
link dwindled down to a muffled mingling of thoughts. When he reached out, Obi-
Wan's shields closed completely.
"You'd think badly of me, Anakin."
"What? How could I?"
"Because of your upbringing."
"You brought me up!"
Color flooded Obi-Wan's face. "Do you have to mention that when we're in bed?"
"I'm not the only padawan sleeping with his Master," Anakin muttered, fists
clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms.
"Just one of the youngest."
"Damn it--I am legal."
Obi-Wan said nothing. He slid from the mattress, sheet trailing behind him like
a parody of his Jedi robes, its pale cotton glowing pink in the dawn-light. He
stood silently at the window, one hand pressed to the pane, and watched
Coruscant wake as it did every day, the artificial sun rising to streak
climate-controlled skies with scarlet and gold. Ships passed, oblivious to them
both.
Anakin reached for his clothes.
"Wait." Obi-Wan glanced back at him. A shock of strawberry-blond hair shielded
his Master's eyes, ready to be cut. "If you want this, give me a month to
prepare."
"A month," Anakin repeated. "Can we still…"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Consider it an exercise in patience for us both."
"Yes, sir."
Obi-Wan sighed. He turned back to the coruscanti skyline. "Go wash up. I expect
you at practice in an hour."
Without another word, Anakin padded away. The door clicked shut softly behind
him.
It would be the first of many sleepless nights.
 
***
 
"But it's been three weeks!"
"And it will be another three weeks if you keep bothering me."
"But--"
Obi-Wan's head snapped up. A book rested on the table before him, its pages
inked on rich vellum, not flimsy. He marked his place with his pen, eyes locked
on Anakin's.
Anakin took a step back. Obi-Wan had left the blinds of their common room open,
and midday sunlight striped its carpet in sharp, brilliant lines. It haloed
Obi-Wan's now too long hair with brightness, glittered in every strand of his
beard.
When had Obi-Wan begun to look as tired as Anakin felt?
Anakin bit his tongue. He'd let Obi-Wan read a little longer.
 
***
 
Four weeks became five.
Anakin stalked from one wall of his room to another. He paused in front of his
own window, glaring out across the same vista Obi-Wan's chamber had, but
couldn't keep still long enough to find any answers in the sunset. Finally he
threw open his door, because another confrontation was all he had left, a full
blown argument his last option.
He stopped just short of the kitchen threshold. "Fuck your patience."
Obi-Wan blinked, his hands wrist-deep in sudsy water. Their sonic dishwasher
was more than capable of cleaning his favorite teacup, and certainly no threat
to its flower-dotted porcelain, but Obi-Wan never risked it. "Pardon me?"
"I said fuck your patience, and fuck you. You said titles didn't matter when we
were in bed, that it was just you and me, but here you are calling all the
shots, breaking promises whenever you feel like it. I don't care how old I am.
It's bullshit I don't need."
Two spots of color bloomed in Obi-Wan's cheeks, as delicate as the roses on his
teacup, and disappeared into the red scraggle of his beard. "What if I lied?
What if titles matter even in bed?"
"Do you want to master me?"
Obi-Wan reached for a towel.
"I asked you a question."
Obi-Wan twisted the printed cotton between his hands until his knuckles shone
white. He drew one deep, shaking breath, then another. "Don't come to practice
tomorrow. Go out, find something to do. All day. It… it has to be all
day. But take your communicator. I'll ping you when I'm ready."
Anakin stared. Obi-Wan stepped around him, careful not to bump his shoulder.
The teacup still floated in the sink.
 
***
 
Anakin flew through Coruscant, the upper and lower levels alike, switching
lanes at whim. He stopped just once, barely long enough to eat, only to push
food around his plate. Day became dusk. By the time his communicator buzzed
against his hip, what little he'd swallowed felt like a cold stone in his
belly. Returning to their suite did little to ease its weight. He licked his
lips, praying he wouldn't be sick, and keyed in the entry code.
A small globe sat on the floor of their common room. Obi-Wan knelt before it,
his head bent over its warm, amber light. His hands peeked from the long
sleeves of his cream-colored, most formal attire.
"You've cut your hair," Anakin murmured.
Obi-Wan's gaze remained fixed on the candle. "Please, leave your cloak at the
door. Our pasts too."
"Our pasts?"
His voice was soft, scarcely more than a whisper. "I've kept my promise. Keep
this one. For me."
"All right." Anakin hung his robe. He took one hesitant step forward, then
another. "You've cut it very short."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I hope you'll like it."
"Can't tell yet, since you won't look up at me." He laughed weakly and stooped
to crook a finger under Obi-Wan's chin. Where it should have met scruff, it
brushed smooth, freshly shaved skin instead.
Obi-Wan looked up, unsmiling and beardless. A padawan braid hung behind his
right ear, woven from the single piece of hair he had not shorn. "Does it
please you, Master?"
"Obi-Wan, I…" Anakin pulled back his hand. "I can't be Qui-Gon for you."
"Did I ask you to be?"
Anakin's eyes flicked downward, taking in the braid and Jedi attire again.
Slowly Obi-Wan came to his feet. He turned away and set to undressing. Layer by
layer, belt and tunic and undershirt fell aside, followed by boots and
leggings. In the end, not even his briefs remained.
Obi-Wan peered back over his shoulder. "There are many kinds of submissives. I
simply dressed like the type familiar to us both, in case you didn't like the
other."
"A padawan isn't the same thing as a submissive," Anakin managed, though he
couldn't quite find the strength to frown. Obi-Wan's legs were as hairless--as
vulnerable--as his newly bared face.
"Not in your case, no. Then again, not all Masters are natural dominants,
either."
Anakin wiped sweaty palms on his pants. "Turn around."
Obi-Wan did. "Do you see what I mean?"
Red-gold hoops pierced Obi-Wan's nipples. A slender chain hung in a graceful
swoop between them, a tiny key dangling from the center of its downward arc
like a pendant. It shone against Obi-Wan's razor-kissed chest, pointing
downward at an equally naked crotch. His cock swelled beneath Anakin's stare,
jutting forward, and his balls drew up tight and high.
Obi-Wan stroked his nipples with both hands, tracing the rings. The chain swung
ever so slightly with the movement, the key a beacon for Anakin's eyes.
"It hurt," Obi-Wan whispered. "It hurt and I liked it, knowing it was for you."
Anakin moaned. He tugged at the ties of his leggings even as Obi-Wan fell to
his knees. There was no teasing in it, just the rending of fabric, just spit
and skin and the wet suction of Obi-Wan's mouth. Everything about this was
wrong, his childhood told him so, and yet Anakin stumbled backwards, almost
tipping the candle, taking Obi-Wan with him. He grunted as his hip collided
with the closest table, but Obi-Wan did not pull away. He took Anakin deeper,
half gagging, his hands gripping frantically at Anakin's own. The chain pressed
into Anakin's thighs. The links warmed between them, cutting into them both.
Obi-Wan whimpered at the sensation, and Anakin's legs nearly gave at the sound.
Obi-Wan broke away, panting, his lips pink and slick. "Lean on me," he pleaded,
and brought Anakin's hands to the back of his head. "Tell me what you want."
Anakin surged forward. Obi-Wan's braid was too short to wrap around his fist,
but tried jerking it anyway, gently at first and then harder, his tugs an
awkward counterpoint to his thrusts. The key dug into his knee. He scrambled to
take hold of it, part of him exulting in Obi-Wan's smothered yelps when he
yanked. He was sure he shouldn't like this, but he did. Sweat dripped from his
own plait and landed on Obi-Wan's forehead.
"Touch yourself."
Still sucking, Obi-Wan cupped his balls.
"Not there."
Obi-Wan's eyes flew open with understanding. He swiped his fingers across his
tongue and reached behind himself without question. It was too much for Anakin
to take. He shoved, and Obi-Wan sprawled on his side, blinking quickly.
"I never told you to stop," Anakin growled. "Spread your legs. Show me."
Obi-Wan rolled onto his hands and knees, ass high.
Anakin nudged him with the toe of his boot. "On your back. I want to see your
face too."
Obi-Wan complied, his blush spreading from cheeks to groin. He wet his fingers
thoroughly and probed between his buttocks again. "Wouldn't this be better on
the bed, or with lubricant, or…"
"Who said I want you on the bed? Maybe I want rug burn all over your back
tomorrow morning. But if you ask nicely, I might bring you some lube."
Obi-Wan's color darkened. He shivered, and the chain slid across his chest with
the movement. "Please, Master. It's been a very long time since I've done
this."
"And what's this?" Anakin asked. He lingered at Obi-Wan's side, making a show
of removing his own tunics, his boots. He played with the ties of his leggings,
left the torn fabric bunched around his thighs. Heat pooled in his crotch,
heavy and somehow dangerous. The role Obi-Wan wanted him to take was coming
easier, despite his upbringing, despite his age, despite everything.
That chain. Anakin huffed, impatient now. He doffed the last of his clothing
and towered over Obi-Wan, hand working between his legs. Obi-Wan bit his lip
and buried his own fingers.
"If you don't ask, I won't give it," Anakin warned.
"I want you to--please. Fuck me."
"With these?" He waggled digits sticky with his excitement.
Obi-Wan's breath hitched in his throat. "N-no."
"With my cock, then." It took all the control Anakin had to let go of himself
and walk into Obi-Wan's room--to stroll. He examined the wooden carving atop
Obi-Wan bedside table for some time before finally opening its drawer. In the
darkness, he could barely see anything, especially the small bottle of
lubricant tucked in one corner, but he knew it by feel. "So, how long has it
been? A year? Two."
"Seven," Obi-Wan gasped.
Anakin clasped the bottle to his chest. So this wasn't just the first time he'd
do this to Obi-Wan. This was Obi-Wan's first time since Qui-Gon had died.
Anakin's legs trembled as his made his way back to the common room, forcing
himself not to run. He knelt at Obi-Wan's side, uncapped the bottle, and
spilled lubricant onto his palm. It shone in the candlelight, as bright as the
key fallen against Obi-Wan's sternum.
"You're a virgin all over again." The statement hung between them, heavy in the
air. Anakin slicked himself, groaned, and poured more lubricant into his hand.
Obi-Wan took hold of the chain. His nipples stiffened with each pull. Eyes on
Anakin, he lifted his knees to his chest, giving Anakin everything.
Anakin cursed softly and slid between Obi-Wan's legs. He fumbled, wet what he
could, and pushed.
Obi-Wan's head fell back. He squeezed shut his eyes, teeth clenched. His hands
skated down Anakin's spine.
"Am I hurting you?"
Obi-Wan gripped Anakin's hips, jerking him closer. "Master."
"Fuck!" Anakin knew he wouldn't last, and so he didn't try. He took the key
between his teeth and slammed into Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan arched, flinging out an
arm. The candle fell. Wax splattered the carpet and extinguished the flame. The
night closed in just as Obi-Wan's legs wrapped round his waist. His other hand
clawed wildly, finally digging into Anakin's shoulder.
"Don't stop--Master, please don't--Master, Anakin, Ani--"
Obi-Wan keened. The chain slapped against Anakin's cheeks as he thrashed. The
sting of it, the sudden splash of heat against his belly--Anakin came, his
entire body rigid, the teeth of the key slicing into his lips.
He was fairly certain that they slept. A ship rumbled by outside, rousing them,
its engines so powerful their tower quivered.
Obi-Wan prodded him gingerly. "I made you bleed."
Anakin nodded. Burning scratches marked his back. His mouth ached. It didn't
matter. "I'm okay. You?"
"Oh, I'll feel this tomorrow."
"Good." He grinned into Obi-Wan's chest. "It's not every day I get to fuck you
into the floor."
"Mmmm." Before Anakin could move, Obi-Wan had rolled from beneath him. He
gathered Anakin into his arms, coming to his feet in the same smooth movement,
and strode into his bedroom.
"Aren't we washing up?"
"Tomorrow. I'm tired."
Anakin settled into the sheets, sighing at their coolness. "It was all an act,
right? I couldn't really master you."
Obi-Wan drew a line down Anakin's nose. "Don't be so sure of that."
"Maybe when I'm older."
"So you want to do this again?" Obi-Wan asked, sinking into the mattress.
"If you tell me what the key is for."
Shadow obscured Obi-Wan's expression. "You've never noticed my diary has a
lock?"
"What, that old book you've been scribbling in?"
Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes, that old book. It seems we're going to have to work on
your observation skills as well as your patience."
"You're the one who kept me hanging for five weeks. And besides--" Anakin
stopped. "Hold on. What's in it?"
"Fantasies. Terrible, dark, smutty fantasies." Obi-Wan kissed him lingeringly.
"Possibly worse than the one we just acted out."
"And the book's just… sitting around."
"Yes."
"Waiting for me to read it."
"Good night, Anakin." Obi-Wan turned, fluffed his pillow, and burrowed beneath
the covers.
Anakin stared at his Master's back for what seemed liked hours. Yet again,
sleep was a long time coming.
 
[END]
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