This finalized the Anakin/Obi-Wan fic, and I think says everything I want to say about that pair. [/grandiose] About time I came up with a title...
Warnings, Disclaimers, Etc: Male sex happens. As in, two of them. Together. And this is about as angsty as I get. Adult themes, hints of child abuse, and I don't deny that Anakin had(s) feelings for Padmé. If any of that bothers you, you should move along, no harm, no foul. I consider the movies canon, and do not know/use any details from the books, games, etc. George Lucas is the keeper of knowledge, I'm just helping him out a bit. :-D
This is written almost expressly for anelith and leeannaray. If they think it's good, fans of the SW world that they are... Well, that would just make my life.
Obi-Wan found it difficult to be with his Padawan after that night. It flew in the face of all his decades of training. But the glimpse of what could be, what he could have had with Anakin was haunting. Sacrifice was just an aspect of his life that he had never questioned. If one didn't know what they were missing, how could they miss it? But Anakin hadn't grown up in the cradle in the protective (sheilding) arms of the Jedi way. Obi-Wan spent many hours over the next few months wondering if he was better off now, or if he wanted to go back, take it all back. He found solo assignments for Anakin, under the guise of proving to the Council how far in the training his Padawan Learner had come.
The truth was that Obi-Wan was afraid of what would happen if the two were alone, left in peace. He knew he was hurting Anakin, he saw the want and desire in the boy's eyes when they were together. Anakin would reach out to lay a hand on Obi-Wan's arm after a meeting, heat gathered and burning into the older man's flesh like a brand, and Obi-Wan would feel his body shift, relax, break, and he would move out of reach. Always with a smile, but always, he moved away.
After two months of avoiding their encounter, they received a task from the Council. They would deliver an ambassador safely back to his home planet; the ambassador's life had been threatened recently by the Trade Federation. Obi-Wan, resigned to the task, arrived at Anakin's apartment on the floor below his own. Anakin's droid indicated that the boy had left late the night before and had not come home. Frustrated with the lack of sense on the droid's part, Obi-Wan turned angrily away, kicked the door shut with his boot, and stormed down the hallway. As he neared the elevator, a disheveled Anakin stepped off the lift.
The boy's hair was in disarray, clothes askew on his long, lithe frame, high, red marks on his cheeks. Obi-Wan immediately thought a fight had broken out, but as he let the calm of the Force wash over him, seeking answers without asking, something ugly and ferocious built up in his chest. He's been with someone.
"Master! Are you... are we needed?"
"Anakin. If you plan on staying out all night, you might consider sending a message along so that I do not have to scurry about the city looking for you."
"Forgive me, Master," and under his breath, "I did not think you would care."
"Not care? Anakin, you are my responsibility. Of course I care where you are. And what you are doing. Enough. We have been given a job. You will meet me at Transporter Dock 341 in a half-hour." Obi-Wan spun on his bootheel and walked briskly into the waiting elevator, looking everywhere but at his Padawan. As the doors came together, he saw the shocked face of Anakin staring back at him, his chest heaving.
"Ambassador, I assure you that we will get you to your destination without incident. Thankfully, it's a short trip, and you should be comfortable with your family in a matter of a few hours."
The ambassador bowed deeply to the Jedi and left to make a transmission to his home, which left Anakin and Obi-Wan alone in the main hold.
"Are we expecting trouble, Master?"
"My young apprentice, we should always expect trouble. If you'd like to sit and rest... I can't imagine that you've gotten any sleep."
"I haven't gotten much sleep in months. You know that, Master."
"Forgive me, sirs, but Master Kenobi? A transmission is coming through, and the Ambassador would like your guidance."
Obi-Wan let out his breath, nodded at his Padawan, and followed the protocol droid to where he was needed. Anakin turned to the window, hands clasped tightly behind him, and looked out at the emptiness of space that surrounded the ship.
The Ambassador was delivered without incident, and the majority of the trip back to Coruscant was filled with reporting back to the Jedi Council and speculating on the Separatist's next move. Anakin had been instructed to be still, and-
"Mindful, yes, Master. I will watch and learn."
Throughout the debriefing, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's frustration building, his confusion. Obi-Wan was trying to find answers in the boy's thoughts. Where had he been? What had he been doing? He was no expert, but deceit was coming off the boy in almost palpable waves. Shame, as well. There was something else... Obi-Wan told himself he was concerned, that was all. He was not... jealous.
As the transport ship docked, Obi-Wan barked an instruction to Anakin, "You will accompany me back to my apartment. There is more training to be done."
Anakin did his best to control the rage (want) building inside him. "Yes, Master."
It was not unheard of for a Jedi to seek a bit of comfort in the arms of another. They were forbidden attachments to others, but it did happen from time to time. Perhaps it happens more than I've realized. I can't imagine that it's talked about at the Temple or over a drink, Obi-Wan mused. Given his past, it would certainly make sense that Anakin had decided to find a... bit of comfort with another. Obi-Wan wanted to approach the subject with an analytical mind, with logic, but all he could feel was betrayal and hurt. He tried to clear his mind but all he could see was Anakin moving over him. Anakin's mouth and hands on him. His own hands tangled in the mass of curls that was Anakin's hair.
There was also an undercurrent of sorrow. A sense of loss he hadn't felt since Qui-Gon lay burning on his funeral pyre. Jedi were not to grieve, but Obi-Wan had been helpless against that, as well.
Anakin entered the apartment shortly after his Master. He stood near the wall at attention, but his head was turned away; a scowl ruined his beautiful face.
All of the frustration and anger rushed out of Obi-Wan at the sight of his student (his friend) waiting his scolding. The sorrow remained and, although he wouldn't have thought it possible, intensified. He controlled his face and sighed.
"Don't. Don't speak to me like a teacher. Not like I mean less to you than some stranger walking through a door. Not after... Just don't."
"That wasn't my intent. I just want to speak calmly with you. Something that is becoming increasingly difficult as time passes."
"And who's fault is that? If you didn't ignore me, if you would only stop pretending that you don't care..."
"Don't care? How can you say that I don't - " Obi-Wan turned away and rubbed a hand over his tired face, tugged on his beard. "Anakin, I'm afraid that you've misunderstood. Of course, I haven't done much to help you, have I? Anakin, all I do is care. If I am unable to control this... thing between us, then I will have failed you."
Anakin crossed the room to Obi-Wan, and held his master's arm in an iron grip. "Don't say that. You've taught me more... I just need to know how you feel. That you aren't feeling shame or resentment." He dropped his hand and his head. "I couldn't bear your shame."
Anakin looked up, fear etched in his face. Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and murmured, "I don't call what I feel shame."
Anakin searched his teacher's face. "What do you call it? Tell me. Please."
Obi-Wan shook his head, "No, this isn't... Anakin."
Anakin moved forward, traced his fingertips down Obi-Wan's temple, over his cheek until his hand rested on the flesh where neck and shoulder meet, thumb making small trails back and forth. "Tell me. Tell me what you feel. Or, " he took a step closer and let his other hand tug slightly on Obi-Wan's cloak, "would it be easier if I told you how I felt? If I told you how I've suffered? Every night... knowing what we've done... how I feel about you."
Anakin leaned over, his lips danced on the uppermost curve of Obi-Wan's ear, whispered, "How much I need you. How much anguish I feel because -"
His warm breath coursed over Obi-Wan's neck, hands held him in place. When his master's shoulders dropped, when he let out a shaky sigh, when his hand slid under black leather and held tight, Anakin rested his face against his Obi-Wan's and quietly declared, "Because I love you."
Anakin pulled back and brushed light brown hair back from blue eyes. "I love you." Kissed eyelids with reverence. "I love you." Pushed a brown cloak off of shoulders and loosened leather belts. "I love you, Obi-Wan." Now spoken with more insistence. Pleading.
Obi-Wan didn't trust himself to speak. He wasn't sure what to say in the first place. But a pressure, a tension had been building in him for some time, and his Padawan was offering the one way to release it. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and met Anakin's lips in a tender kiss. Hands held on to faces with such care - as if the other would break. Soft breaths exhaled, lips pressing delicately over cheeks, neck, mouth, temple, grew to insistence, turned to fevered passion.
Hands that held with care became grapsing fists tangled in clothing from need. Their bodies would break apart from necessity then crash back together, every moment they were separated beame unbearable. Anakin wrapped his arms about Obi-Wan's body and walked backward, while his mouth continued kissing, biting, sucking on sensitive skin. He brought them to Obi-Wan's sleeping chamber and stopped moving when the back of his legs met the edge of the bed. He sank down, kissed a trail along the bare chest before him while his hands undid the lacings of his master's trousers.
Obi-Wan stood awkwardly on one leg and pulled his knee-high boots off, too filled with his own needs to be embarassed at his nervousness. Anakin took the chance given to undo the remainder of his clothing and reached up with one hand to pull Obi-Wan back to his body. Obi-Wan shuddered at the sensation of their bodies touching in so intimate a manner. Every inch of his skin felt electrified - he was aware of every hair on Anakin's legs, of the hard muscle underneath skin the color of sand, of the mind-numbing sensation of his erection lying against another man's skin.
He mimicked Anakin's earlier motions and rocked slowly up and down and glorified in the pleasure such a simple thing could bring. He focused on the contradiction that was one warm hand gripping his backside and forcing his erection to rub gratifyingly against new, secret skin, with the cold steel of the other hand that raked over his skull and kept his mouth working over his lover's. He heard somewhere in the back of his mind a whine, but didn't know which of them it came from, didn't care.
Instinctively he knew what he wanted, what his body needed, but Obi-Wan was inexperienced and didn't know how to achieve it. Frustrated, yet needy, he pulled away, rested his forehead on Anakin's, hips still grinding slightly. Anakin's hands travelled up and across Obi-Wan's back, down, and around to his chest. He pushed his lover up and off to rest on his knees. Anakin let his hands move to his lover's center, stroked, dichotomy of hold and cold, soft and steel. He spoke.
"Master, " and more tentatively, "Obi-Wan. You need release. Don't you?"
Obi-Wan let his head fall forward, swallowed, concentrated on making words instead of gutteral noises. Gods, those... hands... Swallowed again and let his body rock slightly with the motion below. "Yes."
"Obi-Wan. Look at me."
Obi-Wan opened his eyes when he felt the shifting body below him. Anakin was on his knees before him, took his master's face in his hands (fire and ice), and gave a chaste kiss. The warm hand disappeared, a body shifted, but the lips didn't stop their actions.
"I know what you need. One day you will do it for me."
Obi-Wan thought he understood. A clutch of fear in his chest as he thought of taking Anakin into his mouth, a thrill of the unknown. Lips moved from Obi-Wan's mouth to his neck. Obi-Wan arched his back in anticipation for their previous coupling, shivered at the sensation of his chest brushing against the bare chest of his Padawan. More shifting and the lips were gone. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and saw his apprentice's broad, perfect back before him, Anakin's head turned, eyes heavy lidded with passion. A cold hand reached up and back bringing the two together for a brusque kiss. Anakin rocked back, trapping Obi-Wan's erection underneath his backside.
Obi-Wan broke their kiss, rested his face on the boy's shoulder, and bit down lightly as pressure and desire welled up inside him. He didn't...? Was he...? A warm hand caressed his thigh, a backside rocked back and helped answer his questions. He bit down harder, held his erection with one hand and guided himself in. A tremor wracked his body as he felt his most intimate part fully sheathed in warmth. Anakin groaned and pulled forward. Obi-Wan gripped the boy's hips and let himself be taken over by emotion and base need for the first time in his life. His body wanted to move.
With whispered guidance and hands that caressed, Anakin showed his teacher how to make love. One hand left the wall to reach back, extract a hand clutching his hip, and snake it around front. Obi-Wan had to bite down to stop a groan at the feeling of holding Anakin in such a manner as well as the new sensation of tight movement around his own flesh. As he began pumping more rapidly, his hips increased their fervent motion. He cried out his lover's name over and over. His body found its release, and his heart clenched with passion and satisfaction as Anakin called his name in kind, whimpering at the end.
They collapsed, exhausted, to the bed; Anakin was first to clutch, caress, touch after their joining. Obi-Wan held his lover to his chest, and let sleep take him.
The next few months were filled with rescue missions and negotiations on behalf of various sovereign states. There were hardly enough Jedi to fulfill all of the obligations. The Council began denying Obi-Wan's request to send Anakin alone. They didn't share his belief that Anakin was ready for the trials to become a Jedi Knight. Grudgingly, Obi-Wan left his Padawan behind on more and more missions, every parting surrounded with fellow travelers which made it difficult for them to express themselves to one another.
"May the Force be with you, my young apprentice."
"And with you. Master."
At times there were confusing dreams. Obi-Wan dreamed of golden skin across a smooth expanse of back muscle, or dark blue eyes that glistened with feeling and emotion. (For me.) No. An ugly, hateful voice had developed, spitting fear and hatred. They are filled with emotion for another. For me, but Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was convincing himself or the voice.
When Obi-Wan returned to Coruscant, there were times when he didn't hear from Anakin for days, only to be awakened in the middle of the night by a shifting of the bed. He would open his eyes and see that same sad, yet hopeful, face looking down on him. At times he came to Obi-Wan dishelved, smelling of... other things. Those were the nights when Anakin would say in a pleading voice, "I love you." The other nights - he only said it as he climaxed, or after Obi-Wan spilled into his mouth, Anakin's hands grabbing onto hip muscle so tightly that bruises would form almost immediately.
With the exception of his groans of satisfaction or lust, Obi-Wan remained silent during their times together. He had never been demonstrative with affection, and didn't know how to begin. Anakin would do everything in his power to bring words from his master's mouth. He touched Obi-Wan in ways the older man had never realized was possible. Would beg, plead, demand, so intent on hearing three words, that he didn't recognize Obi-Wan's body had told him everything he wanted to hear.
Anakin began to stay away more. Obi-Wan would wake, surprised and saddened to find it was morning and he was alone. Anakin seemed more frustrated, distant at times only to become frentic in his needs later. The Council had denied him the title of Jedi Knight. He felt Anakin's frustration and outrage like a hot wind. Obi-Wan, so blinded by his feelings for his Padawan, hadn't heeded his feelings or the words of the Council and told Anakin that the Chancellor wasn't to be trusted. That the Council wanted Anakin to spy on the politician. Something shifted in their relationship. Anakin looked at his master differently now; coupled with the confusion was betrayal. He told Obi-Wan he was having dreams of death. Unable to provide solace, Obi-Wan suggested that Anakin see Master Yoda. Obi-Wan feared that Anakin would inadvertantly reveal their secret relationship to the Master Jedi, but he became so concerned at the dual nature of his Padawan (lover) he decided to give up everything, if only to help him.
A gulf was being driven between them, and unschooled in the ways of relationships, Obi-Wan was helpless to stop it. He fell back on what he knew: trust the Republic, trust the Jedi code. And now there was no longer time for anything but the fight. And then the world that Obi-Wan knew, what he believed in and fought to preserve his whole life, was crumbling. The Temple was on fire. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. (You know.) He didn't know what was happening.
Master Yoda tried to stop him. (He knows. Of course he knows.) But he had to see. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. It was a device, a scheme from the Sith Lords. He wouldn't. It wasn't in him. (It is. It's been there all along.) Children. Babies. The youth that he had smiled with, shared lessons with. (Imagined impossible things - as if he and I could be fathers.) How could Anakin... He couldn't bring himself to say the words. Yoda was speaking to him.
"What? I can't kill him. I can't!"
He needed to find Anakin. Had to hear from his own lips (Gods, like that don't stop, please) that he had (not) done this thing. Slaughtered innocents. Children. But where would he be? Where would he go?
You know. The other one he loves.
Padmé. In a night of terrible discoveries, he almost thought the last surprise was the worst. "It's his, isn't it? I'm so sorry."
He couldn't do it. He wouldn't kill him. Not after all they had shared over the years... Obi-Wan raced to Mustafar where Darth Vader (Anakin. It's Anakin. The boy I took from slavery. The young man I trained. The man I broke all of my vows for.) was. Everything in his being, every molecule screamed out that Anakin was there. A shadow now lived where his lover once was.
He raced off the ship just in time to see Anakin(Darth Vader) choking, killing Padmé. He had loved her, Obi-Wan knew this deep down, knew what he had to do. He attacked.
Every move was met. Every parry, riposte, thrust and jab. They had trained against one another for over a decade. They knew each other better than anyone else could. Knew to anticipate moves, attacks. When he thought he must win or he would surely die, there came a break. Obi-Wan had the high ground. He felt a small ounce of relief that he wouldn't have to kill his (lover) opponent. With reflexes honed over thirty years of training and experience, his arm moved without thought. His enemy was cut down and lay before his feet in agony. Began to burn. Obi-Wan's heart was breaking. That perfect face, that beautiful body that was said to hold the key to peace - ruined. Scarred. Oh, Gods, burning. Its twisted form was screaming, hurling loathesome words. "I hate you!"
And Obi-Wan realized far too late that he had failed Anakin. Ripped from his mouth in a sob, "I loved you!"
Images rushed past his mind's eye. Moments of peace, of training, of reflection, a shared meal, a shared bed, two hands entwined as bodies moved together in perfect rhythm. Too late. It was too late and he had killed his lover. His best friend. His salvation.
He forced his body to turn away from the ruin that used to be his love. Made himself move up the hillside and back to his ship. Found Padmé - still breathing. Carried her to the ship and left as fast as he could manage, needing the task of helping the girl survive to keep his mind off of his own betrayal. She was dying. He had thought she was so strong... Had his love weakened her, as well?
She cried out to Obi-Wan with her last vestiges of strength, "There is still good in him."
It would take over two decades for Obi-Wan to convince himself that it wasn't true. It hurt his heart too much to think that the young man he had loved would be capable of becoming the thing known as Vader. It was easier for him to separate the two. One was killed, and the other arose, a sick, twisted version of the phoenix. The beautiful young man he had risked everything for was dead. Obi-Wan had failed him. But he would not fail Anakin's son.
Thank you so much for reading.