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As the white light fades, Obi-Wan doesn’t know what he should expect.
He doesn’t expect to still be on Mortis, though it is Mortis as it was, not the bleak darkened void it had been as the Father faded.
Beside him, Anakin’s breath stutters as he takes in the shimmering green foliage lining the cliffside they had first appeared in, the cascades of light that each flower yearns towards. Their shuttle stands dormant and cold beside them, the ramp closed.
Ahsoka is nowhere to be seen.
“I don’t understand, why are we still here?”
Anakin’s confusion makes his voice waver, the way it hasn’t since he was a padawan learner and trying to sound his way through Aurebesh at their kitchen table with Obi-Wan’s patient hand tracing the words on each page. He glances over at where the younger man paces along the cliff edge, scowling heavily and clenching his fists. He’s all frustration and uncertainty, irritation bleeding into the Force around him, and Obi-Wan sighs, exhaustion weighing him down as he fights to find a semblance of balance after everything.
“I’m not sure…”
He breathes steadily, eyes closed as he focusses on the rich earth smell emanating from the ground and tries to release the tension from each of his limbs. The Force feels steady here, but it’s the steadiness of stagnation, like a breath being held. It almost seems like they’ve been paused, placed in a glass bottle under the observation of something nameless.
“No, I – I really don’t understand, didn’t we bring balance back? That’s what the Father said, didn’t he?”
Anakin brushes past him, agitation in every line of his body and thrumming softly between them along their whispering bond. It’s been like that since they landed here, the dried roots of the connection between them blooming as if watered, and it makes discomfort skitter through him. Obi-Wan has been ignoring it as best he can, convinced that he’s overthinking, that it isn’t what it seems. It was easier, when they were witnessing the destruction of an entire intersection and wondering what the consequences would be for the universe.
But it’s getting harder the longer they stand here in this place stopped in time, and he can admit now that what concerns him isn’t the awakening itself, but how much of this slow healing has been unconscious. He doesn’t know if he started it, if Anakin did, or if something else is to blame.
It terrifies him to admit that he doesn’t really care.
He straightens as his mind finally quiets enough to let clear-headedness begin to return in increments, notes that he still has his lightsaber clipped to his belt and that their armour is clean, as if they’d never stepped off the shuttle. It truly does seem like they’ve returned to the first day they arrived, the Force unbroken around them, and he wonders with a sinking feeling whether that means they will have to go through the awful events again.
“Yes” he finally replies, distracted and turning in a circle as he considers their next move, whether they should wait or begin the trek towards the Father’s tower. “But perhaps there’s something else, something we missed the first time.”
“First time?” Anakin appears before him, eyes narrowed and hands reaching out as if to grab his shoulders before he stops himself. Obi-Wan feels himself wince and then immediately regrets it when Anakin steps back quickly, lips pursing as he crosses his arms. He ignores the familiar guilt that drops heavy in his stomach, clasps his hands loosely behind himself as he stands stiffly. “What do you mean, first time?”
“I mean,” he starts, watching warily as Anakin breathes deep like his anger is rising into that explosive place he always seems to revert to, “that it appears as if we are back to the very first day we landed here. Can you not feel it in the Force? It’s as if none of the catastrophes have yet occurred.”
“Yeah,” Anakin mutters, turning so Obi-Wan catches his profile and can see the scar tightening slightly as he screws his eyes shut, his back ramrod straight. “Yeah, I can feel it. Like we’re stuck.”
He shifts forward reflexively at the anger and fear leaking through Anakin’s shields, wants so badly to feel that tense shoulder beneath his palm to remind himself that Anakin’s still here, not somewhere he can’t follow the way he had been in that heat-filled cavern where the dark side had threatened to swallow him whole. But Anakin’s body language doesn’t invite touch, so Obi-Wan curls his fingers back to his side resignedly, pushes the grief down deep as he walks towards the dirt track that hugs the cliffside where the Daughter had appeared.
“Exactly. So, the question is, how do we become un-stuck?”
“And I suppose that’s something only I can do?” The bitterness following the quiet words stick to the back of his throat, Obi-Wan stopping abruptly as he turns to where Anakin hasn’t moved, gaze trained fixedly on the star-studded sky. The creak of leather only just reaches his ears where Anakin’s clenching his fists tightly on his arms, a tremble visibly running up his spine as his head drops forward. Obi-Wan doesn’t dare breathe. “Kriff, what else am I meant to do in this gods-forsaken place that I haven’t already?”
His heart clenches at the pain bleeding into their bond, the defeat lining every inch of Anakin’s being; and for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders what it must be like, to be told over and over again that you are the only being that can change the universe, that if you do not, the world will fall apart. He stares at Anakin’s weighed down shoulders and parts his mouth on an unsteady breath as a gleam along the other man’s cheek catches his eye, lungs seizing at the impossible idea of his former padawan crying –
It hits them out of nowhere, the Force chiming with a deep bell-like reverberation that feels as if it will shatter them apart. Obi-Wan gasps and clutches at his head, mind feeling as if it’s liquefying as the Force churns into a hurricane around them. He’s barely aware of Anakin dropping to the ground alarmingly fast at the same time as the throbbing sound grows more intense, and he instinctively stumbles towards him, falls to his knees to drape over the other’s hunched body where he’s curled over himself and whimpering, the need to protect overwhelming.
As soon as it had begun it stops, his ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. Obi-Wan hisses softly as his brain begins to solidify once more after several seconds, eyes cracking open as soon as he doesn’t feel like they’re about to fall out of his head. He blinks rapidly as his vision adjust to the bright light, breaths stuttering as he tries to centre himself in the waning waves of the calming Force. Anakin on the other hand is shuddering beneath him, his arms still clenched around his head as he bites back pained sobs. Immediately, his own pain is forgotten as he rubs his hands down his back soothingly, whispered reassurances falling into the damp curls at his temple.
“He feels more intensely because of who he is.”
His head snapping up, Obi-Wan spots her just beyond where their shuttle is, hair floating in an unnatural breeze exactly like the first time she’d appeared. The Daughter regards them serenely, gentle eyes tracking where Obi-Wan’s arms hold Anakin securely as the man shakes. She doesn’t move as Obi-Wan bares his teeth at her, panic making him far more expressive than usual.
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.” The coldness of his words shocks even him, but Obi-Wan doesn’t care to curb his tone, not when Anakin curls even tighter and rocks slightly, animal hurt rushing through their half-open bond. “Can’t you do something?” He runs shaking fingers through the other’s hair, presses his lips to his forehead. Restraint is beyond him right now, too worried to stop himself from doing what he has always instinctively wanted to do as soon as Anakin no longer allowed it.
“It will pass,” the Daughter tells him, hands clasped demurely in front of herself as she watches detachedly. Obi-Wan snorts but doesn’t bother to respond, pressing his cheek to the heat of Anakin’s sweat-damp scalp and breathing steadily, hoping Anakin will catch the rhythm and follow it. After a moment, it seems like he does, shivering becoming slightly less pronounced as his broken sounds begin to quiet and his fear recedes within their bond. Relieved, Obi-Wan closes his eyes, arms tightening.
“You have been brought here for a reason, so you must listen.” Her voice has moved to behind him, and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to stare at the thick stamen of the strange white orb-like flowers that tower above them as he follows the sound of it. “Balance is not absence. There is no light or dark in this place now, and the Force cannot move where it can no longer exist. This intersection is integral to the universe, and it must be kept as a conduit. That is why you are here.”
Anakin’s trembling has stopped entirely now, and he breathes unsteadily beneath Obi-Wan as his signature begins to flow back into its normal patterns of barely controlled volatility. He shifts cautiously on his knees and begins to uncoil, Obi-Wan rising with him and letting his hand rest on his arm. When it isn’t shaken off instantly, he dares to squeeze lightly.
“We’re – we’re here to make a conduit?” Anakin manages to rasp, glancing briefly at Obi-Wan. He shrugs back, just as unsure. The explanation makes sense to him in a purely hypothetical way, but not what their part is.
“Yes,” the Daughter nods, coming to stand before them. She stares down at them, a statue of a goddess made flesh. “You will perform the act that births the conduit where light and dark can flow once more.”
“The…act.” Obi-Wan can hear the scepticism in Anakin’s voice despite the forced casualness, feels the way his arm has tensed beneath his palm. He glances at him quickly and has to stifle a small grin at his raised eyebrows, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he eyes the Daughter with poorly hidden disbelief. “What act?”
“The most primal act of all. One that creates.”
Obi-Wan’s thoughts screech to a halt, his body pulling him to his feet without conscious thought as he gapes. Anakin’s choked cough barely registers, busy as he is immediately denying what he’s just heard.
“What?” He hears himself say sharply, hand thrusting out as if to force the implications away. “That is – you cannot ask that of us! And how would that create - ?”
“She said we’d birth the conduit,” Anakin reminds him distantly, eyes narrowed as he stares at the Daughter. His former padawan has risen too and now stands with his arms crossed and his body leant decidedly away from Obi-Wan’s, and despite himself the action causes a twinge of hurt. He knows Anakin isn’t attracted to him, to men in general if his previous dalliances are anything to go by, but it doesn’t seem to matter, Obi-Wan taking the rejection straight to heart in a way he’ll chide himself for later.
“The Force wills itself where it must, to find balance.” The Daughter regards Anakin closely, then turns to Obi-Wan. “There is an abundance of light in you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you have touched darkness, Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One.”
Beside him, Anakin goes completely still, not even breathing, and Obi-Wan stiffens too. She can’t mean the Son’s manipulation, the brief moments Anakin’s eyes had turned golden and he’d felt his heart die in his chest. Anakin had seemed to forget the entire thing, and Obi-Wan hadn’t questioned it, too glad to see his friend unchanged, the throbbing wound of him in the Force closed over. He twists slightly to eye him and then reels back with a gasp as Anakin suddenly slams his shields closed with enough force that he can feel the shock of it down their healing bond.
“You will give him your light and let him nurture it in the dark,” the Daughter continues, unfazed by the turmoil both are trying to shore up behind battered blocks. Obi-Wan stares at her, sure she doesn’t mean what he thinks she means but almost expecting it now too, the utterly incomprehensible situation beginning to wear him down to bitter acceptance.
“What?” Anakin barks, fists clenched by his side. His fury is a bright spark, warming Obi-Wan to his core even as he rubs his eyes tiredly with numb fingers. “That doesn’t make any sense – “
“Light is creation and life. Darkness is corruption and decay. The Force is both, and all. This is the only way to temper the conduit so that it can withstand such power.”
“So, Obi-Wan is – what? Meant to impregnate me somehow?” Anakin’s face is a rictus of rage, nostrils flared as he advances on the Daughter. The outrage is expected and right, but Obi-Wan can taste the ozone rising and knows with a sick certainty that it’s futile to argue. Still, he asks, if only for the sake of it.
“And if we refuse?” Obi-Wan interrupts, elbows cupped in a self-soothing gesture he’s tried to train himself from since he was thirteen and thought himself doomed to obscurity.
The Daughter tilts her head at him, unfazed by Anakin’s snarling face an inch from her own. “Then you will never leave,” she says simply, and Obi-Wan’s entire body slumps. Anakin hisses, then hisses again as the Daughter vanishes without a trace.
“This is insane,” he spits, beginning to pace as he clenches mechanical and flesh fingers in his hair. “Creating a conduit in the Force through sex? This has to be a joke.”
“It certainly didn’t seem that way when she told us we’re trapped here unless we – follow through.” Obi-Wan trudges over to the shuttle and rests his back against a strut, sliding down until he can sit comfortably with his head tipped back. Anakin continues to pace several metres away, and he watches him idly as his thoughts veer from the morbid to the academic. Truly, if it wasn’t so heartbreakingly unfair, it would be an interesting question.
“Maybe the Force needs something physical to anchor itself here,” he muses tiredly, not really believing it but unable to stay silent as his former padawan bites out expletives and sends his frustration careening into their bond. “Anakin,” he pleads, palm rubbing against his forehead as the feeling grows unbearable. “Please. You’re being too rough.”
Anakin stops pacing and spins to him, apparently realising as he does that his emotions are getting the better of him. He makes an apologetic noise and comes to stand beside him, watching the skyline for a moment before throwing himself down with a huff.
“Sorry,” he mutters reluctantly, leaning his arms against his bent knees and dropping his head between. “You noticed it too, then, huh? The bond.”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says shortly, deflating when Anakin frowns at him. “Yes,” he says more softly, eyes tracking the scudding clouds above them. “I don’t know what has caused it to – erm – re-awaken.”
“Gift from the Force?” Anakin suggests, shrugging when Obi-Wan glances at him knowingly. “Well, it could be! You heard her, the Force wills what it wants, or whatever.”
“Hm. I wonder what the purpose of this could be, then.” Obi-Wan brushes his hand through the dirt at his side and tries not to flinch when Anakin barks out a harsh laugh. He knows what he wants it to be – connection, a chance for something like what they used to have, trust and reliance. But Anakin hasn’t relied on him in years, and all it does right now is make him fear what he might reveal without meaning to.
“Probably something to do with this damned conduit.
“It’s just – “ and he turns to Obi-Wan quickly, tilting forward to find Obi-Wan’s gaze imploringly. Obi-Wan blinks, caught. “Don’t you think this is kind of ridiculous? I’ve never heard of the Force acting like this, not in any of our histories or stories.”
Obi-Wan hums, commiserating. “Well, it is us, I suppose,” he sighs, smirking slightly when Anakin snorts. “These sorts of things do tend to happen when we’re involved.”
“True,” Anakin agrees as he stretches his legs out, hands resting lightly in his lap. “We’re sort of cursed.”
They’re quiet for a time, Obi-Wan breathing softly as he falls into a light meditation, hoping to find guidance. But nothing stirs either within or without, and he knows that their choice has been made for them, whether they like it or not.
“Why does this need to be through me though? And why you?” Anakin’s exhaustion is apparent in his voice, but what makes Obi-Wan’s hackles rise, immediately and without control, is the faint annoyance, as if the entire thing is just another situation that they’ve gotten themselves into instead of something that will completely alter their relationship. He dismisses the faint flush along Anakin’s cheeks, the way his jaw tightens and he glances away as if embarrassed. Nothing registers but the rising tide of his indignation.
He knows instantly that he shouldn’t, that he should treat this as casually as Anakin appears to be doing, but the past few days have put his emotions into overdrive, and the relief of letting them go is a type of freedom like nothing he’s ever felt.
“Is it truly such a hardship?” He can’t contain the bite to the words, wishes that it covered up the desperation he’s sure Anakin can also hear. Now that it’s begun though, all the things he’s held back for years are teeming to get free, and he has to swallow around the need to just spill it all into Anakin’s waiting hands.
Beside him, Anakin waves the question away quickly, and Obi-Wan wants, viscerally, to hit him. “It’s not as if we’re going to actually do this,” the idiot boy declares, completely unaware that Obi-Wan’s about three seconds away from wringing his foolish neck. “I’m sure there’s another – Obi-Wan?”
He feels unhinged, reels with the loss of his carefully maintained control as he turns properly and grasps Anakin’s chin between unyielding fingers, relishing in the way his eyes widen. Anakin is looking at him like he’s never seen him before, and Obi-Wan laughs wretchedly even as he sways closer, unable to help himself.
“You truly have no idea, do you?” he sighs, eyes flicking between Anakin’s shocked expression and the wet gape of his open mouth, staying there as his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip uncertainly. “Anakin, we’re not getting out of here without me fucking you.” He rubs his thumb against his chin as desire clenches deep, then lets him go, guilt finally reasserting itself where it should have before he – he –
“I’m so sorry, but we don’t have a choice. I would do anything to get us out of here another way, but there isn’t one.” As quickly as it came, the lapse of control is eaten up by his shame, and he stands quickly to put distance between them, disgusted with himself like he always is as soon as he allows his thoughts to wander to his former padawan and how beautiful he finds him. He has thought of fucking Anakin for years, there’s no sense denying it now, but this situation is wrong, and he knows that though he will do this and enjoy it, he can never allow Anakin to know how much he truly wants it. Better he think he's doing this out of a sense of duty.
Better he doesn’t realise how much Obi-Wan aches –
“Is – is that true?”
Obi-Wan blinks, spins on his heel to gape at Anakin who has stood and taken a step towards him, whose chest heaves and whose eyes are – they’re –
“What?” He breathes, rigid as Anakin comes towards him step by step until he stands in front of him, lips parted like he can’t quite get enough air into his lungs. His cheeks have flushed a deep red, and Obi-Wan’s gut heats when he notices again that his eyes have dilated almost completely, only a thin ring of blue around the edges.
“Because it doesn’t feel like it,” Anakin gasps out, eyelids fluttering as another heavy pulse of shameful desire goes through him when he reaches for him and brushes shaking palms up his chest to wind around his neck, forehead coming to rest against his. “Obi-Wan, you feel – “
Their bond is singing between them, more than halfway open now with the way their emotions echo through. Obi-Wan realises with a start that he’s sending everything down it, his frustration and shame, the guilt and the aching want – above all, the fact that the prospect of having Anakin, even just once, is setting him ablaze. He wants with a fierce longing to claim this gorgeous being for his own, and this entire situation feels designed to be an answer to everything he’s ever wanted.
He gasps sharply, trying in vain to reign it all in, and Anakin makes a noise of denial, pulls him closer and floods hope fear joy through the Force between them. He tenses, dangling on the edge of ruin.
“Tell me it’s real,” his best friend, his best everything, begs, fingers dancing along his jaw and up to the shell of his ear, into his hair to rake it back from his face as Anakin breaths across his lips with stuttering breaths, eyes half lidded with stunned want. He can feel it too, can name the joyous hope and shock and answering desire, connect it to the refrain of yes, yes, I never knew – wanted it, didn’t know you felt it too that he pushes through the bond. Obi-Wan breathes out sharply, shocked. “Tell me you’re not just doing this out of duty or obligation, tell me it’s because you want me the way I – “
“Anakin,” he groans, drowning in the rush of their fully re-awakened bond and incapable of doing anything but giving in, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him in until there’s nothing between them and Anakin has to arch his back to keep their foreheads pressed together, his hand finding the curve of his spine and clenching. He’s half hard already, just from this, their bodies so close – can feel Anakin’s answering hardness grinding slowly against him as if he can’t help the teasing movement. “Anakin, I - I’ve thought about this and dreamt about it and – do you want to know, darling, how much the thought of you consumes me?”
Anakin whines and presses closer, so close his lips slide slick and plump against his own in the barest tease of flesh on flesh, and Obi-Wan makes a sound like he’s been punched, hand burying itself into the curls at the nape of his neck as he physically reels himself back from devouring him whole. The whimper Anakin gives in response almost undoes him completely, but he pants and drops his lips to his smooth jaw instead, flicks his tongue there as he waits and revels in the way Anakin shivers in his arms.
He seems to realise he wants an answer after a moment and nods quickly, letting his head fall back as Obi-Wan bites gently at his earlobe. “Yeah, yes I wanna know,” he pants, moaning brokenly when Obi-Wan groans against his damp skin. “Tell me how much you want me, what you’re gonna do to me – “
At that, Obi-Wan finally gives in and pulls away from his jaw to bring their mouths together, unable and unwilling to hold off from what they both want any longer. He kisses Anakin like he’s wanted to kiss him since he first saw him laughing with Rex at some stupid joke in the mess, happiness lighting him up like a star as he sat with his squad like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He kisses him like he’ll never get another chance, even though he can feel through their bond that this won’t be the last, that this is the first of many, countless.
Anakin’s lips are soft and yielding beneath his, his eyelashes clinging wetly to his cheeks as Obi-Wan licks into his mouth and watches him through half-shut eyes, the urge to consume him in every way overwhelming. He tastes of ash and cool water, pleasure turning his tongue slow and submissive. So, Obi-Wan curls his tongue and tips him back with fingers at his jaw, lips bruising as he takes and takes and Anakin floods their bond with dazed satisfaction.
Eventually, the need to give Anakin what he’d asked for reasserts itself, and Obi-Wan bites softly at his lower lip before pressing hard kisses down his jaw to his neck, pulling his tabards aside urgently to get at his skin as Anakin gasps. “I’m going to take you apart slowly,” he whispers into the leaping pulse beneath his teeth, eyes closing at the way Anakin goes boneless against him in response. “I’m going to strip you of your layers until all your lovely skin is there for me to kiss and bite and suck, and I’m going to mark every inch. I’m going to turn you onto your belly and follow your beautiful back to your gorgeous ass, and I’m going to put my mouth there. Would you like that, darling? Would you like me to lick into you so you’re nice and wet?”
“Fuck, Obi-Wan,” Anakin sobs, pressing his mouth harder against his neck so that Obi-Wan has no choice but to bite in reprimand, arms clenching around his head and a whine caught in the back of his throat. “Never had that, want it, want you – “
That stops him for a moment, confirms what he’d thought – if only partly, thank the Force. But he needs to know, so he pulls himself away reluctantly and makes sure Anakin’s looking at him properly, even as he fusses and tries to find his mouth again.
“Darling, I need to know if you’ve done this before,” he murmurs, thoughts scattering when Anakin gasps wetly and smirks at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. He likely does, damn the bond, but Obi-Wan can’t deny that the idea of Anakin being pleased that he feels so possessive of him, that the knowledge of being his first settling thick and hot at the base of his cock, is something that turns him on – it’s delicious.
“Never been with a man, Master,” Anakin breathes and stars, he absolutely knows what that does to Obi-Wan, his cock throbbing at the way Anakin bites his lip and grins impishly at him, eyes heavy lidded. “Know what it feels like to have my fingers there though, thought about you when I opened myself up – “
“Stop talking,” Obi-Wan groans, feels Anakin’s bubbling joy in the Force as he laughs. It makes him grin back, smile going tender at the sweet way Anakin rubs their noses together. It doesn’t feel like this could be anything but love, an act of consummation on feelings they’ve kept bottled for years. Obi-Wan doesn’t feel any fear as he kisses Anakin slowly, the shame and pain of an hour ago long gone as he leads Anakin over to a soft patch of moss under the overhang of giant purple flowers, the cool shade dappling them and turning the moment magical in a way his heart warms at.
“Oh, nice. I like the flowers, that’s a very romantic touch.” Anakin smiles at him playfully, slipping a hand into his armour and bringing him down with him as he lays back. His fingers find the clasps of the chest plate and pauldrons easily, like he’s done it a million times before, and before Obi-Wan knows it he’s been stripped until he’s left in his tunic, Anakin placing the armour carefully to the side before sitting up and winding himself around him, chest to chest.
“Hi there,” he says softly, fingers mapping across Obi-Wan’s face as he stares at him wonderingly, his eyes tracing where the path of his hands leads. Obi-Wan’s heart feels too big to be contained, and he presses his forehead to Anakin’s with a sigh, hands finding his waist and gripping tight.
“Hello there,” he says back, hushed like the moment deserves. “Would you like to continue?” Anakin nods and kisses him slowly, leaning back as Obi-Wan follows him down and allows him to control the pace, the heady rush of answering desire simmering between them. Anakin kisses him deeply, the intensity making his head spin, and then bring his hands up to his tabards.
“You promised to kiss me all over,” he reminds him softly, golden brown curls a halo around him and eyes glinting in the low light. He looks angelic, like something from a fairytale, and Obi-Wan thanks whatever Force gods there are for leading them to this point. “You can start now.”
His fingers obey before his mind has caught up, but when he shoots him an admonishing look, Anakin just huffs a quiet laugh. “Wouldn’t want you to break your promise, Master,” he tells him loftily, his calm immediately ruined when Obi-Wan sneaks a hand under his opened tabard and tunic and finds his peaked nipple. Anakin moans softly and arches his neck, Obi-Wan watching hungrily as he tweaks the bud and Anakin’s chest snaps up.
“The first of many,” he reminds him archly, leaning down to nip at the straining tendon where neck meets shoulder as Anakin’s legs splay and his hands clench around his biceps. “Not least of which is breeding you.”
He’s not prepared for the way Anakin gasps like he’s been shot, eyes flying open as his hips thrust up spasmodically, lips rounding with feverish pleasure. Obi-Wan stares down at him in shock as warmth spreads across his pants, eyes wide as Anakin strangles a groan and blushes fiercely, arms coming up to cover his face.
“Did you just – “
“Yes, OK, I came, I just – “
“Darling,” Obi-Wan rasps, hands scrambling to pull Anakin’s tunics up and over his head despite his face still being hidden, abandoning that in favour of unbuckling his belt and yanking at his pants, pushing them down and revealing his soaked underwear to his gaze, mouth watering as the smell of his cum rises from the ruined cloth, “darling, Anakin, the fact that you came at the thought of me – I need to taste you, please let me taste you – “
“Please,” Anakin cries, getting himself tangled in his own tunics as he yanks them over his head and then pushes himself onto his elbows, knees rising to frame him as Obi-Wan bends down and sucks at the wetness, his own cock straining as he tastes the bitter-sweet flavour. He groans frantically at the heat of Anakin’s cock against his lapping tongue, practically sobs when shaking fingers come to tangle in his hair. He pushes himself into their stroking touch, encourages Anakin to grip tight and guide. His hands find the waistband and pull down, and then his lips are sliding along sticky skin as Anakin chokes back punched out sounds.
He licks up the trails of come and pre-come, mouth closing around the head and tongue rubbing firmly at the pulsing vein on the underside. Anakin’s fingers spasm as his hips twitch, and Obi-Wan takes a breath and slides down, throat working as he fights his gag reflex. Anakin’s not small but he fits easily, and Obi-Wan inhales deeply as his nose meets the thatch of public hair where Anakin’s musky scent is strongest. He swallows once, twice, then slides up as Anakin writhes, muscles clenching. He’s gone voiceless with pleasure, and Obi-Wan pinches his side as he flicks his tongue into his dribbling slit to make him jolt, Anakin moaning thinly as his thigh twitches in Obi-Wan’s hand.
He pulls off him with a satisfied hum, watching as Anakin shivers and settles slowly. Eventually, he opens an eye and peeks down at him, smiling at the way Obi-Wan rests his head against his hip. “You’re really good at that,” he murmurs, fingering the stubborn lock of hair that always falls over his forehead and swallowing thickly. “Teach me?”
Obi-Wan has to bite at the ball of his pelvis at that, the thought of teaching Anakin to suck cock thrilling in a way it shouldn’t be. He’s made peace with the fact that Anakin’s lack of experience with men sends feral want through him, but he wishes he still had some dignity to fall back on. Anakin huffs a laugh at him as he’s reminded that the bond is still wide open, and Obi-Wan flicks him on the thigh.
“Another time,” he tells him as he reaches for Anakin’s utility belt, foreseeing the kick he directs at his ribs in retaliation and grabbing his ankle. He brings it up and smooths a kiss along the thin skin, smiling when Anakin inhales. His other hand finds the packet of bacta he watched Anakin store in one of the pouches, wriggling it free and tossing it onto the other man’s stomach. “Now, I know I promised my mouth to make you wet, but since you haven’t done this before, we’ll need to be thorough.
And by that,” he murmurs, letting Anakin’s ankle go so he can grasp at the meat of his thigh again, pushing his leg up and out so that he can string a line of bites to his taint, Anakin’s gasps becoming whimpers as he nears his hole, “I mean I’ll finger you open until you’re crying, begging for me to fill you up. Are you ready, dear heart?”
“Yeah,” Anakin whines, hands reaching behind his own knees so he’s hinged wide, Obi-Wan rumbling with approval as he rips open the bacta packet with his teeth and slicks his fingers, rubbing them together to warm them. “Yeah, please, Obi-Wan, lemme feel you.”
“My sweet darling,” Obi-Wan sighs, fingers pressing gently to Anakin’s furled hole and massaging, getting him used to the stimulation. The muscle is tight and untried, no matter what he’d said before about fingering himself, and Obi-Wan spends several moments deepening the pressure as he skims his lips along the sensitive skin of Anakin’s inner thigh. The dual sensations work to relax him, and eventually he’s loose enough that Obi-Wan can slide one finger slowly in, the glide smooth.
Anakin grunts as he pulls out and pushes back in, still slow and steady. He does that a few times before adjusting his wrist and sinking part of a second finger in, the muscles loosening further the more Anakin warms to the feeling. He glances up to watch the way Anakin licks his lips with his eyes closed, brow furrowing as he tilts his hips down into the growing pleasure. Warm tendrils of satisfaction thread through the bond, Anakin’s constant craving of more, more egging him on.
Two fingers are enough for him to find his prostate, and as Anakin’s sighs become eager, he finds the raised tissue and brushes past it. Immediately, Anakin’s head drops back, his hands pulling his legs out wider as he moans. Grinning, Obi-Wan rubs against it harder, gut clenching when Anakin’s mouth drops open and he cries out.
“You look so beautiful lost in pleasure,” he says into the skin of his thigh, nipping at the flesh as he continues his pace and Anakin’s chest heaves. “I can’t wait to have you writhing on my cock.”
“Then get on with it,” Anakin hisses, cheeks and chest flushed and sweat limning his golden skin as Obi-Wan continues to abuse his prostate. “I’m – I’m not gonna – l-last otherwise,” he stammers, eyes flashing open as his body begins to shake and overwhelmed pleasure bleeds into their bond. Obi-Wan slows at once, not wanting to overstimulate before he’s gotten into where he knows he needs to be. He rocks his fingers minutely, letting Anakin come down from the edge, and then squeezes more bacta onto his fingers.
The third finger takes some time, Anakin still tense from his near-orgasm, but Obi-Wan is patient, waits for him to relax further before he pushes into him. He waits for Anakin to adjust and then thrusts into him, scissoring his fingers to stretch him out further. It doesn’t take long for Anakin to shift beneath him restlessly, thighs trembling as he tosses his head and gasps wetly.
“Enough,” he finally grits out, shaking his hair from his eyes and letting his legs drop, the shift in angle momentarily overwhelming him as Obi-Wan withdraws his fingers and catches his prostate. “N – no more until you’re in me.”
“Alright,” he agrees, mind awash with the blatant need that he’s held back for far too long. He won’t hurt Anakin, but his control is hanging by a thread as Anakin reaches for the bacta and squeezes the last bit onto his flesh hand, reaching with the metal one to fumble at Obi-Wan’s laces as he tries to undo them. Obi-Wan takes over and gets them down past his thighs, uncaring that he’s still wearing his gauntlets and boots. He does pull off Anakin’s though and help him kick out of his pants until he’s naked; and the sight of him, panting up at him with lust in his eyes and cock sticky with pre-come sets his entire body alight.
“Force be damned,” he groans, unable to stop himself from grasping his nape and pulling him into a devouring kiss, more tongue and teeth than actual technique. “Just look at you. Made for me.”
”Obi-Wan,” Anakin pants against his mouth, hand closing around him and slicking him thoroughly as Obi-Wan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and watches him ravenously. “Yours.”
It’s all he can take, and he presses him back down, hikes his legs over his shoulders and guides himself to his slick hole one handed as he tilts him up with a hand on his ass. Obi-Wan looks down at this man that holds his heart in his hands, and pushes all his adoration through their bond as he slides into him.
Anakin shakes in the cage of his arms, and he presses kisses along his cheeks and nose, finds his softly gaping mouth with his and slips his tongue into the wet heat. The tight clutch of him is incredible, and Obi-Wan has to tense his muscles against the primal urge to thrust quick and hard before he’s ready. Anakin whimpers faintly and then reaches out to frame his face, tongue meeting his between their panting mouths. “You’re in me,” he says, sounding dumfounded, and Obi-Wan’s chest aches at the stunned relief he feels in the Force.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies, lips finding the thin skin of his flickering eyelids and brushing over them. “Finally.”
“Finally,” Anakin repeats, and he laughs softly, body twitching and making Obi-Wan’s forehead drop to his collar in agonised pleasure. “Oh. That feels good.”
“Darling, if you don’t stop moving, I might hurt you,” Obi-Wan warns, back stiff as he strains to stay still. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Mm,” Anakin sighs, the gratified hitch in his voice enflaming him further. He bites back a groan, hips rocking minutely. “I can feel it in the bond. Force, I love that I can feel you again,” he moans, legs dropping to twine about his waist and hands sliding down his back to grip at his ass. Obi-Wan’s eyes blow wide. “It’s like you never left.”
And that’s it, Obi-Wan faintly aware that he’s lost control all over again. His hips snap forward, and he claws himself back from the brink enough to feel the shock of pleasure bursting down Anakin’s side of the bond, hear the filthy moan he lets out. And then he’s sliding out partway only to grind back in, and it’s like his entire mind goes blank.
It’s nothing but searing pleasure for several seconds until the bite of Anakin’s nails focuses him, and he drops his head down to watch where he’s being swallowed by Anakin’s pliant body. The sight becomes too much, much too soon, and he raises his head to see Anakin watching him with his tongue between his teeth. He smiles even as he’s jolted across the ground with the force of Obi-Wan’s thrusts, cock bobbing against his stomach where a pool of pre-come has formed.
“Do I feel good, Master?” the tempting nymph groans out as he plucks at his own nipples and tightens around him, eyes rolling back when Obi-Wan rises to his knees and pulls him into the right angle to hammer at his prostate, whole body open to it. His pleasure crackles between them in the bond, the feeling like a livewire. “Gonna come in me soon?”
“Not before you do, darling,” he grunts, hips driving into him as he gets his hands on his waist and curves him into a perfect arch, pulling him up and letting him hang as his hands scrabble for purchase. Anakin’s fingers dig into his thighs, bright sparks of pain that galvanise him into going faster, starved gaze watching rabidly as he falls apart beneath him. He can feel the way he’s tightening rhythmically now, head pressing into the moss as he wails. “Can feel you about to come, don’t you want to come for me, darling? Come, Anakin, come on my cock so I can fill your tight hole, make a mess of you – “
Anakin’s metal hand flies to his belly, presses down as his other hand wraps around his cock and strips it as he starts to come, mouth parting as he howls his pleasure into the air and into the bond. His entire body bears down on Obi-Wan as he continues to strip himself hard and fast and then drops his sticky hand to his balls and massages until the last dribbles are slipping from his red cockhead. The sight is the single most erotic thing he’s ever seen until Anakin swipes a hand through his own come and slips it past his lips, moaning at the taste and opening dazed eyes to stare at him as he sucks his fingers clean.
Obi-Wan slams into orgasm with a few brutally hard thrusts, mind whiting out as he shakes and groans. He distantly notes Anakin squirming and rocking onto his pulsing cock, hand still pressed to his belly as he whimpers. The pressure he’s using is just this side of too much, but Obi-Wan doesn’t stop him as he continues to throb, collapsing onto him as soon as he feels the last spurts wringing from him.
They lie there in complete exhaustion, Anakin’s legs dropping from where they’d stayed around his waist and his hands coming up to thread through his hair as he hums with sated pleasure. Obi-Wan lets himself rest against his shoulder, head tucked comfortably into his neck as the sweat cools on their bodies. Eventually, the softening of his cock alerts him to where he can feel Anakin clenching and unclenching around him as if milking him still. He frowns slightly, then props himself up on unsteady arms to raise an eyebrow at him. Anakin just blinks innocently, mouths what? at him as if he doesn’t know.
“I’ve already come, darling,” he tells him exasperatedly, looking down to see Anakin rubbing circles on his own belly, like he’s willing Obi-Wan’s come to take root. He flushes and glances up to Anakin’s blissful face, his closed eyes as he continues to tighten around him. “I know,” he sighs, fixing him with a content grin as he licks his lips like he’s savouring the memory. “It felt so good, Master, having your cock pulsing in me and breeding me.” He bites his lip and groans softly, neck extending as his cock twitches, Obi-Wan watching in amazement. “Want it again.”
“You may have to wait,” Obi-Wan informs him bemusedly, biting his lip when Anakin whines as he pulls out and then cups his hand around his rim like he’s trying to keep himself full, fingers sliding into his slick hole and plugging himself when he still leaks. The sight makes him swallow as heat drips down his spine, and as Anakin plays with his half-hard cock while his fingers disappear into his body, he feels himself give a twitch. “Though perhaps not that long.”
“Good,” Anakin breathes, even as the Force suddenly sighs around them and comes alive again, brushing against their skin faintly in recognition. Obi-Wan leans down and breathes a kiss against his smiling mouth, tangles his fingers with his metal ones on his damp belly as Anakin’s other hand runs through his chest hair and comes to rest against his heart, their bond sighing with their shared contentment.
“Gotta make sure that light of yours takes.”