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Vader stared down at his hands, thoughts whirling. One mechno, one flesh. His body was fit and strong, and he was not in any pain.
He should be dead, shouldn’t he? And speaking of people who should be dead, countless Jedi shone brightly in the Force around him.
Vader was alive, and Order 66 had not yet happened.
The Force was giving him a choice.
Choose the same side. Enact Order 66 sooner and cleaner than before. Serve the Master whom he had just betrayed long enough to establish the Empire before taking control of it for himself.
Choose a different side. Save the Jedi whose lives had been lost. Betray the Master whom he had killed for his son and change the future.
Vader found himself at a loss.
And then, before he could come to a decision, Obi-Wan found Vader.
The smile on his face sent Vader’s thoughts scattering. His old master, his young master, was happy to see him. He had not seen his smile in more than two decades.
“Anakin,” he greeted brightly. “I’ve been looking for you!”
Vader felt an answering smile; he couldn’t fight it. “Well, you’ve found me. What did you need?”
Obi-Wan faltered and glanced distractedly over his shoulder. “The Council wishes to speak with you, but…” His eyes were assessing and narrowed; he leaned close to Vader, smile fading.
Mere moments spent in the past, and Obi-Wan had figured him out.
Vader’s hand twitched toward his lightsaber, but Obi-Wan turned him around with a firm hand on his back and urged him down the hall toward Obi-Wan’s quarters.
“If we’re quick, we should have time before we speak with them,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I’ve never felt such imbalance from you, my friend.”
Vader’s heart clenched. My friend. Then he hadn’t been discovered? But why else…?
As soon as Obi-Wan’s door closed behind them, his hand shifted up to the back of Vader’s neck; he squeezed, hand warm and firm against Vader’s bare skin.
Vader shuddered, a soft gasp escaping him.
Oh, how long had it been?
Obi-Wan sighed. “I thought so. You should have said something sooner. You’ve been doing well lately, so I thought you’d found something else.”
”I had,” Vader admitted, remembering the endless empty praise Palpatine had poured over his raw and desperate nerves, his voice reduced to a croak. “But nothing has ever been more effective than this.”
Obi-Wan squeezed again, and Vader’s knees gave out and sent him to the ground.
How long had it been since Obi-Wan had done this for him? How long since he’d known true peace in the Force?
The first time had been an accident, nothing more than Obi-Wan proving a point during some weapons training session or another. He’d driven Anakin to his knees and cracked the whip they’d been practicing with across his back.
In hindsight, the move had been downright playful; Obi-Wan’s laugh still rang in his ears, even in memory.
But Anakin’s mind had blanked out, shocked pleasure crashing through his confused body. Before Obi-Wan realized the change, he struck out twice more.
Anakin had swayed in place, wide-eyed and panting and dazed, and felt something in himself shift and take notice.
And then Obi-Wan pulled him to his feet with a curious look; Anakin had not seen the danger then, but some time later, true to his nature, Obi-Wan followed up on what he thought he’d seen.
Within the month, Obi-Wan was using corporal punishment on Anakin whenever Obi-Wan felt like Anakin was going to fly apart.
It was a humiliating weakness, a shameful need he couldn’t bear to refuse, even as it drove him away from his master and toward the Dark.
Vader craved it like he once craved water on Tatooine.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, thumb rubbing the side of his throat and snapping Vader out of his reverie, “I thought we agreed you would tell me when you’re struggling.”
His disappointment, clear in his tone of voice, set forgotten heat behind Vader’s eyes.
“I have been having doubts,” Vader told him. The heavy weight of Obi-Wan’s disappointment dragged out words he’d too long kept buried. “Doubts about you, the Order, my place in it… I still do not know who to trust or what to do.”
Twenty years, and he was still lost.
Obi-Wan walked around him to meet his eyes.
From his knees, Obi-Wan towered over him, and for a moment, Vader fancied him a forgotten god, offering benediction to a mere mortal.
His presence in the Force so purely Light, he shone with it.
Vader’s heart ached at the mere sight of him. Had he always been so beautiful?
“Thank you for telling me.” His hand rested warm and sure atop his head.
Vader held perfectly still; if he moved, Obi-Wan might take his hand away.
“What do you need, Anakin? Your thoughts are too loud for me to see any one shape clearly.”
Vader shivered and let himself lean just so into Obi-Wan’s wide palm. A supplicant before his long-forgotten—longer-neglected—deity. “I want to hurt. Please.”
When was the last time he’d asked for anything instead of just taking what he wanted?
When was the last time someone offered so freely to give him what he needed?
Obi-Wan pet his hair with a soft noise. “As you wish.” His hand dropped to Vader’s shoulder and tapped twice, an old signal. “I’ll be right back.”
Vader stripped off his tunics at once, muscle memory and desire making his hands quicker than usual.
True to his word, Obi-Wan stepped away only long enough to grab the riding crop he’d picked up on one of his many missions. Vader gazed up at him, throat full of the things he couldn’t say.
Obi-Wan’s smile settled on Vader like a blessing. “Lean against the couch, my dear.”
Vader obeyed.
The first strike of the crop to the bare skin of his back was a shock to his system.
It had been nearly twenty-three years since he had last let himself have this. Obi-Wan’s touch was soothing against his shoulder where he held Vader steady and punishing against his back where he rapidly struck out with the crop.
Distantly, he hoped it would scar, though Obi-Wan had never once left such a lasting mark on him.
His cock strained against his trousers, aching and ignored as always.
The pain and surrender at his master’s hands conspired to send Vader’s mind reeling into the Force headlong, but it was calm now and steady around him, a balm against his fears and uncertainty.
The Force sang to him, sweet and Light with a deeper undercurrent of Dark in perfect harmony. Never did it sound more beautiful than when he was at his master’s mercy.
Obi-Wan’s hands cupped his cheeks, and his thumbs swept wetly under his eyes.
Vader was crying, he realized.
Weeping, really. His chest heaved with his sobs, and his shoulders shook. Everything he’d done in the last twenty years, the people he’d hurt, the people he’d lost… It all poured from his eyes like a broken faucet.
“Shh, Anakin, you’re all right. I’m here. You’re safe.” Obi-Wan smoothed his hair back and kissed the top of his head. “I have you, little one. You’re safe and sound.”
How had he ever doubted his master? Vader wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s back and clung as hard as he dared.
“Master,” Vader gasped between sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever for?”
Vader shook his head and turned his face away. How could he possibly explain?
Obi-Wan turned his face back with one finger against his jaw, sympathetic eyes nevertheless shining with his usual incorrigible curiosity. “When, Anakin? How far off?”
Vader froze. “What?”
“I can feel you. You are Anakin, that much is certain, but you’re different than the Anakin I saw yesterday. So, when?” Obi-Wan’s expression was gentle and calm, but concerned.
Vader licked his lips. “The future, about two decades.” He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know why I’m here, or what I’m expected to do now that I am.”
Obi-Wan nodded, stood up, and pulled Vader to his feet, only to press him right back down onto his couch. He sat close enough that his thigh was a warm line along Vader’s.
Vader shut his eyes and leaned into his master’s side. Even when he thought he wanted him dead, Vader had missed being close like this.
“You—well, the you now—have been drifting away from me for some time. Should I assume it’s as bad as I fear?”
Vader shook his head. His voice was barely audible: “Worse.”
“Oh, Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s hand settled on his thigh. “What has happened to you? Surely, if you’re here now, it’s not too late. The two of us can change things. Together.”
“I don’t know that I can,” Vader said. He placed his flesh hand over Obi-Wan’s and enjoyed its warmth and the simple pleasure of skin contact.
The things one takes for granted.
“Do you love me, Obi-Wan?”
“Of course I do.”
Vader gripped his hand tightly; to hear it confirmed so plainly, and in so many words—he never could have imagined. Had it really been so simple as asking him directly?
“Why have you never said?”
“Why?” Obi-Wan turned a baffled frown on him. “Surely it’s obvious? I’ve been accused of being too soft on you for years. I’m constantly being scolded for such open affection when I’m meant to be teaching you how to disengage and become unattached.”
Vader stared. “Open affection?” He scoffed, bitterness welling up his throat like bile. “Only the Jedi.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes tracked over his face, reading his every twitch, Vader was sure. His brow drew down over his eyes. Concern again. “Anakin, tell me you knew that I care for you. Surely, you knew.”
Vader shook his head.
“Oh, stars.” Obi-Wan cupped his cheek, palm rough with calluses but so warm. “Foolish boy,” he murmured, the words laced with fondness, “of course I love you. Much more than I should.” He sighed, and his thumb caressed the top of his cheek. “More than is… appropriate.”
Vader surged forward and stole a desperate kiss, mechno hand curling around the back of his master’s head, even as his other remained tight around the hand still resting on his thigh.
Obi-Wan made a quiet noise, the hand on his cheek sliding into Vader’s hair. When Vader’s tongue slid along his lips, Obi-Wan pulled sharply on his hair.
Vader arched his neck, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Obi-Wan’s face. His blue eyes darkened, and his mouth was shiny with Vader’s saliva.
“Sorry, Master,” he rasped, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time.”
Obi-Wan held him back by his hair, even as he licked the taste of Vader off his lips. Vader surged forward again, only to be stopped by that same firm hold.
He whimpered, the tug against his scalp shooting liquid pleasure directly to his half-forgotten, half-hard cock.
“Anakin, we shouldn’t.” But Obi-Wan was looking at his mouth. He wanted to be convinced.
Vader would simply have to convince him. There was no alternative.
“Why not?” he asked. He lifted his chin to bare more of his throat, pleased when Obi-Wan’s eyes dropped to admire the exposed line. “Because you were my master? Because you were my teacher? Because you’re a Jedi?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan bit out, voice hoarse. “You’re a Jedi, too, you know. I’m also much older than you.”
Vader smiled, wide and pleased. “I am not a Jedi. And right now, I’m fairly certain I’m about five years older than you. Try again.”
“I practically raised you!”
Vader pressed back into the hand gripping his hair. “That was a long time ago, Obi-Wan. And it was never enough to stop me wanting you.”
Obi-Wan’s throat bobbed, and his eyes flicked between Vader’s eyes, lips, and throat, like he wasn’t sure where he should be looking.
“You don’t mean that,” he tried.
Vader dragged the hand he was still holding from his thigh to the bulge of his cock, fully hard where it was trapped in his trousers.
Obi-Wan pulled his hand away and reeled back. “What? How long have you—?”
”Been hard?” Vader asked, relishing Obi-Wan’s discomfort. “Since you squeezed the back of my neck. I’ve always gotten hard when we do this. It’s shameful, but I could never stop it happening.”
Obi-Wan’s expression turned serious, the nerves leaving him all at once. Vader never wanted him to look away.
“Is it the punishment, or is it me?”
Vader raised his eyebrows. “Both. I would never allow anyone else to raise a hand against me in this way. It can only be you.”
Obi-Wan dragged him back in, their lips meeting harder than Vader anticipated; Obi-Wan’s teeth caught at his lips before his tongue stole forward and claimed Vader’s mouth like it belonged to him.
Vader moaned, clinging to his master’s robes as he was pressed backward. His back stung as it dragged along the rough fabric beneath them, but it only heightened his pleasure.
“Master,” he gasped, but he didn’t know what else he meant to say.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Anakin, you have no idea. You are everything to me. I cannot believe you never knew.” Obi-Wan gave a shake of his head before lowering his mouth to Vader’s neck, licking and biting down to his collarbone.
“You never shut up,” Vader complained.
“No,” he agreed. “Never. Fuck, you look good like this. Always knew I was a bad master. I’ve been thinking about how you’d look under me since I first started hitting you. Stars, Ani, the way you look at me when I hit you—the way you feel in the Force?”
Obi-Wan bit down, his moan vibrating against Vader’s skin.
No one had called him Ani in decades. Obi-Wan really did love him.
Vader moaned. “Master, please, I want to feel you.”
“Where? Do you want my hands on you? Or do you want to feel my cock against yours?”
Vader made a strangled and undignified noise in answer.
Without any contact with his cock beyond the too brief forced grope, Vader was already on the edge of coming. His skin felt hot, and sweat beaded at his hairline.
Obi-Wan laughed, bright and brilliant. Not a trace of mockery, only a pure delight Vader could drown in.
And then his deft, wonderful hands were opening Vader’s trousers and pulling out the length of his dick.
Obi-Wan gave a pleased hum. “Lovely. You have an absolutely lovely cock, my dear.”
Vader covered his face with his arm. “Please stop talking.”
“No.”
Obi-Wan shifted back; when Vader peered out from behind his arm, he got to watch as his master undressed, tunics and robes cast aside. Those beautiful hands set to his own trousers, and finally revealed the cock Vader had been dreaming about since he hit puberty.
“Fuck,” Vader said, as eloquent as ever.
Obi-Wan leaned back down, braced on one arm. His fingers curled around Vader’s dick, cool and rough and perfect against the aching, feverish flesh.
Vader gripped the arm of the couch above his head with a low groan. “Don’t stop.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Obi-Wan promised, voice thick and hand still working him over. “There you go, sweet thing. That’s it. I knew you’d look beautiful like this. I always knew you’d be perfect for me.”
Vader’s vision went blotchy as he came with a soft exhalation, dazed and overwrought.
Obi-Wan groaned, soft and heartfelt, and pressed their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. Vader could feel his arm working quick and hungry, but the splash of hot liquid against the skin of his belly still came as a surprise.
Obi-Wan dropped his head until their foreheads were pressed together and then let himself lay across Vader’s chest, heedless of the come on their stomachs that would no doubt glue them together when it dried.
“This can’t happen again,” Obi-Wan said to himself. “No matter how good it was.”
The Force sang its distress, and Vader felt its echo reverberate through him. He shook his head, urgent. “You have to. You must. The me now, he doesn’t know, and he must know. If he doesn’t find out, if you don’t tell him—”
Obi-Wan pulled back slightly to look down at him. “What’s wrong?”
“This must be why I’m here. I can feel—I won’t be allowed to stay, but I can advise you.” Vader cupped his master’s handsome, anxious face. “You must tell me how you feel. Use all your pretty words, every last one. He doesn’t know, Obi-Wan, and it will be the death of him.”
“Anakin, we’re Jedi; we mustn’t.”
Vader shook his head. How much was he allowed to say? Was there a limit? “If you don’t,” he said carefully, but when nothing seemed amiss, the Force itself singing him on, he continued, “if he never finds out the truth, you will forever lose him to the Sith.”
Obi-Wan reeled back, stunned and terrified. One hand pressed tightly over his mouth.
Vader followed him up. He couldn’t be allowed to look away from this. They could not afford a flinch at such a critical juncture. “You can feel it, can’t you? The way the Dark emanates out of me?”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Closed off and more distant, but not running. Not yet.
“Of course, I can, Anakin.” The look he gave Vader was lost and heartbroken. “I can feel it in the other you as well. I just… didn’t want it to be true.”
Vader took his hand, and Obi-Wan held it tight.
“You haven’t been listening to me. What am I supposed to do?”
Vader squeezed his hand. “You tell him the truth. Don’t pretend to be a perfect Jedi. Don’t cite the Code. Don’t choose the Order. Choose him.” He looked down and tightened his grip. “Choose me.”
“How many people die if I fail?”
Vader shook his head. “Don’t fail.”
Obi-Wan laughed, but it was weak. “What happened to me? Your me, I mean. You became a Sith, and he remained a Jedi… But he isn’t the one who killed you, is he.”
Vader expected more doubt or hesitation in the words, but Obi-Wan spoke the question as though it were a foregone conclusion.
“No,” Vader said. “We fought thrice. The third time, I… He let me kill him. I’m sure of it.”
“Of course he did. I could never kill you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan met his eyes, and the sincerity Vader saw there knocked the breath out of him. “Even if death would be kinder to you, there is no world where I could let you go.” He smiled. “But letting you kill me, assuming I was done with what remained of my duties? Nothing could be easier.”
Vader tugged him into another kiss to stifle the hurt noise that escaped him. Obi-Wan cradled his head and gentled the kiss.
The Force shifted around them, its song soft and sweet and sad.
Obi-Wan pressed their foreheads back together. “Where will you go?” he whispered.
“Back into the Force, I think.” To you, I hope, he couldn’t say.
Obi-Wan’s smile said he knew anyway.
“I’ll protect you this time,” Obi-Wan promised. “May the Force be with you, Anakin.” He kissed Vader’s forehead. “Always.”
“I will always love you, Master.” Vader let out a soft breath, but he had nothing more to say.
They held each other a moment longer, and then the Force carried him away on the sweetest crescendo he would ever hear.
And when he opened his eyes, his own Master was smiling with pride to welcome him home.
Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s presence leave him, vanishing into the Force around him. And for a moment, Obi-Wan sensed him at peace and even the first stirrings of his happiness.
In his rooms, there was no evidence the future Anakin had ever been there. No evidence that they had…
The riding crop was still on his side table where he left it, and he was still only half dressed, but Anakin’s clothes and Anakin himself had vanished completely.
Obi-Wan took a moment to center himself, acknowledging his grief and loss. Inevitably, though, he gave himself a firm shake.
His Anakin could still be saved. His Anakin needed him.
Resolved, he redressed and straightened his room before stepping back into the hall.
As he rounded the corner a little too quickly, hands caught his shoulders just before he barrelled into—
“Anakin? Oh good, I was just looking for you.”
Anakin’s expression was tense and grim, but he managed a wan smile.
This one was certainly his Anakin.
“I just got done speaking with the Council. Yoda mentioned he sent you to find me.”
“He did, but that isn’t why I was looking for you.” Frankly, he had completely forgotten the rest of the Council wanted to speak with Anakin. “I wanted to speak with you myself. Privately. Would you mind?”
Anakin frowned, the wrinkle between his brows deepening. “I suppose not. This isn’t another lecture, is it?” he asked, boyish petulance lacing his tone. “The Council already handled that, and I’m not in the mood for a second round.”
His recklessness on the front, right. Obi-Wan was not surprised to find that he had no interest in scolding Anakin for his actions in battle. What did that matter, when push came to shove?
“It’s not a lecture, my friend, but it is important.”
Anakin sighed, but waved a hand; the other still rested on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Lead the way, then.”
Once they were seated back on Obi-Wan’s couch, he realized he had no idea what he was meant to say.
How could he possibly make himself clear when Anakin had refused to listen to him for weeks, months, since Rako Hardeen.
Obi-Wan frowned down at his hands. What did he most want to say?
“Anakin, you… What do you think I feel for you?”
Anakin frowned at him, the line between his brows deepening. “What?”
“What do you think I feel for you?” Obi-Wan repeated.
Anakin gave a shake of his head. “How am I supposed to answer that? I don’t know.” He laughed, but it rang bitter and jaded. “I’m just a problem for the Council to solve, aren’t I?”
Obi-Wan winced. Future Anakin was right. This was much worse than he thought.
“I didn’t ask how the Council sees you, Anakin. I asked what you think I feel for you.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Is there—” Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm. “There’s a rather large difference, my friend. I… I really thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” Anakin huffed. “You aren’t making any sense.”
“No, I suppose I’m not.” Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, staving off his mounting headache. “Do you want to guess how many times I’ve been scolded by the Council for being too permissive with you?”
Anakin opened his mouth, but Obi-Wan didn’t let him answer.
“Dozens of times in the last few months alone. I’ve been accused of being too attached as well, though I’ve gotten better at hiding that over the years.” He huffed. “I was scolded again this morning for letting my fondness for you cloud my judgement; did you know that?”
Anakin hesitated. “What? That’s not possible. Master, you’re a Jedi. You don’t struggle with attachment, and certainly not…” He shook his head.
Obi-Wan’s heart broke.
“You’re making fun of me,” Anakin accused. “Because it’s so hard for me, you’ve decided to mock me, is that it?”
Anakin stood, fists clenched at his sides.
”No, Anakin, of course not. I’m trying to tell you—”
“Well stop! I’m the worst Jedi in the galaxy, I get it! I don’t need you to rub it in! It’s already bad enough, so I don’t see why you need to make it worse.”
Obi-Wan stood and reached out for Anakin, but held back when he turned away. The rejection stung.
Anakin could be so sweet and kind, but no. He insisted on being difficult and spiteful and cruel. At this rate, Obi-Wan would never finish saying his piece.
He normally let go of his frustration, chose patience when Anakin spoke to him like this, but today… Obi-Wan clenched his hand at his side. Today, his fear urged him onward, his patience sacrificed.
Where had patience ever gotten him with Anakin, anyway?
“You petulant child!” Obi-Wan snapped. “For once in your life, listen to what I am trying to tell you!”
Anakin turned a startled look on him. His cheeks flushed, and for a moment, he looked like Obi-Wan’s padawan again, too small for his age and terrified of being sent away for any perceived flaw.
Obi-Wan sighed, the anger leaving him in a steady stream. That was what the Council could never see; Anakin was harder on himself than Obi-Wan could ever hope to be. Did he really believe Obi-Wan indifferent to him?
How could he not see the simple truth?
“I love you, Anakin.”
Anakin laughed, but this time it was shaky, uncertain. Disbelieving. “As my master, of course. Jedi compassion at its finest.”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No. A master should not feel for his apprentice as I do for you.” Master Qui-Gon wouldn’t have. He’d been the true Jedi, and Obi-Wan had failed him. Would fail him. The future Anakin was proof enough.
If Obi-Wan failed Anakin as a Jedi, he had only one other option available to him.
Anakin reeled back. “Now I know you’re mocking me,” Anakin snapped, but he was only lashing out now. A child with hurt feelings, Obi-Wan knew how to handle. “You’re a Jedi, Master. You’re only mistaking compassion for love, surely.”
“No.” Obi-Wan took a step into Anakin’s space, following him until the wall was at his back. “I tried to do this the right way, but clearly it wasn’t good enough. I’m not a good enough master to keep you here. I can accept that.”
Anakin tried to protest, but Obi-Wan stopped him.
“No, Anakin. You will listen now. You asked me once why attachments were forbidden, and I didn’t answer you well enough. Attachments are forbidden because they cloud your judgement. Nothing should be more important to you than this.” He gestured broadly at the temple around them. “Love means your loyalties change. Love means you value something above all else. For a Jedi, that is dangerous. No other path has ever led one more directly to the Sith.”
Anakin flinched. Obi-Wan ignored the way his heart twinged in sympathy. He would stop his Anakin from turning. It wouldn’t happen this time.
“I had a vision,” Obi-Wan said. “A vision in which you turned. And in it, it was brought to my attention that you did not know my feelings, nor the depth of them, and that not knowing was distressing to you.” He cupped Anakin’s cheek, stroking the smooth skin gently. “You rejected the Jedi, and you rejected me with them,” he guessed.
Anakin’s shoulders hunched, but he did not pull away. “Even if that’s true, what does it matter? You’re still a Jedi.”
Anakin did not include himself as a Jedi. That boded ill. But his eyes filled with hope and fear, and he didn’t push Obi-Wan away.
“Anakin, my feelings for you…” How could he possibly explain? “Do you remember, I told you once that if Satine had asked me to stay, I would have left the Order?”
Anakin’s brow furrowed, but he nodded.
“Had she asked and had I gone, I would have come to resent her some day. We both knew it. She didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer. She loved me until the end, and I still could not leave for her.” Obi-Wan let out a careful breath.
Sometimes, he still thought about that. What if he had left, would she still be alive? Would she have fallen out of love with him after seeing the truth of the man he had become?
He shook his thoughts off.
“Anakin, after what happened with Ahsoka, the only thing keeping me in the Order is you. I would leave the Order today without you ever needing to ask. I do not need you to return my feelings, I only need you to tell me you want to leave. I am not here for the Council, and I am not here for the Order.” He waited until he was sure Anakin was looking at him, until their eyes met. “I am here for you, and you are more important to me than being a Jedi.”
“That can’t be true! Master, you’re the best Jedi there’s ever been! You can’t leave the Order!” Anakin’s eyes darted, like he wanted to bolt. “And you can’t—I can’t leave the Order. I’m the Chosen One. And I—”
Obi-Wan caged him in with one hand on the wall by his head. “You’re still not listening. Don’t you get it? My attachment to you is what makes me a poor Jedi. I could not—will not—let you go. Not for anything. There is no mission I would not sacrifice, no common good I would not ignore, if it meant you yet lived and breathed. You could hate me and cast me aside, and still I would protect you. This is not the way of the Jedi.”
Anakin made a hurt noise, his lower lip wobbling; the sound set a fire coursing through Obi-Wan’s blood. Such a low estimation of his own worth, and yet with that deadly, dangerous pride.
Obi-Wan surged forward and sealed their mouths together. Anakin’s hand landed on his chest; for a moment, the pressure there implied an impending shove, but then Anakin’s fingers tangled in his robes and held him in place. With a soft noise, Anakin opened to him, pliant and easy.
Obi-Wan kissed him deep and filthy and possessive, the better to drive his point home, until Anakin was panting against the wall, straddling Obi-Wan’s thigh.
“Master?” Anakin blinked slowly down at him, dazed and distracted.
That was an expression Obi-Wan intended to keep on his pretty face as often as he could manage it.
After a beat, Anakin gathered himself and shoved Obi-Wan away, drawing in on himself. “Master! You can’t!”
“And why can’t I?” Obi-Wan kept his eyes hooded as he watched Anakin’s thoughts flash across his face.
Anakin’s eyes kept dropping, no doubt to Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obliging, he licked his lips. Anakin shivered.
“Y-You’re—” Anakin’s eyes lingered on his mouth. His lips parted, but no further words seemed forthcoming.
Obi-Wan took a step back toward him. “I’m a Jedi, though not as good a one as you seem to think I am,” he listed. “I was once your master, and I am sixteen years your senior. I raised you. It would be inappropriate. It would be wrong.” Obi-Wan stopped when they were toe to toe again. “Did I miss anything?”
Anakin shook his head.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” Obi-Wan held back from touching. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you can’t think of me like that.”
“What will you do?”
“We’ll continue to be friends, and I will keep my hands and my feelings to myself. I’ll never bother you with them again. And if you want to leave, we’ll leave the Order together.”
“And if I… If I can’t tell you those things?” Anakin asked. His voice was so casual, but his hands were clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
“Then we leave the Order together, and we figure out together where we’ll go from there. And I’ll do much more than just kiss you. That’s a promise.”
Anakin’s throat bobbed. “I’ve… I’ve had my doubts,” he admitted. “About the Order. Long before Ahsoka…” He swallowed again. “But I didn’t think—you never seemed to have any doubts at all.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “I have my own doubts. I raise them privately with Master Yoda or Master Plo Koon, and until this vision, they’ve both been able to assuage them. And I’ve never actually told either of them about my feelings for you. I knew what they’d tell me, and I don’t intend to listen to their advice. My love for you isn’t a mistake.”
Anakin dropped his gaze. “I love you, too, Master. For so long. I—I thought you hated me or—or saw me as a burden or a failure, but I—”
Obi-Wan kissed him again, bracketing him against the wall. Anakin melted beneath him, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and clinging tight.
“You are not a burden,” Obi-Wan said against his jaw. “You are not a failure.”
“I can’t be a Jedi, Master, not with the way the Dark calls me.” Anakin’s fingers curled against his back. “I don’t, I can’t find balance. I haven’t since we met the Father, and I—I don’t know what to do. I’m so afraid of losing the people I love.”
“The Dark doesn’t hold all the answers, my dear, no matter what it tells you.” Obi-Wan stroked his hair and kissed him again. “We can find the answers together. And I’ll help you remain centered, the way I used to.”
Anakin’s breath caught. “You don’t have to—I can make do without it,” he tried.
“I don’t want you to.” Obi-Wan pulled back. “I miss having you at my mercy, Anakin. I enjoyed bringing you that peace.”
Anakin’s hips bucked against Obi-Wan’s leg. “Master, I—I didn’t only… Peace isn’t the only thing I…”
Obi-Wan kissed him. “If you still think my love for you ends at kissing, Anakin, you are sorely mistaken.” He pressed his leg against Anakin’s hard cock. “I want to take you apart until you’re begging for me. I want you to rely on me and take whatever you need from me. I want to be everything to you.”
“Fuck,” Anakin gasped. “Master, I need you to fuck me, please.”
“As you wish, my dear.” He pressed his smile to Anakin’s cheek. “Come to bed.”
He did not have to ask Anakin twice. He grabbed Obi-Wan by the wrist and dragged him toward the bedroom like Obi-Wan might change his mind if he didn’t move fast enough.
“Slow down, love,” Obi-Wan laughed. “There’s no rush.”
“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Anakin admitted.
Obi-Wan kissed him, pushing Anakin’s robes off his shoulders and stripping off his tunics.
In moments, they were bare. Obi-Wan pressed Anakin back onto the bed, admiring the line of his body, the definition of his chest, the narrow taper of his waist, the jut of his cock from the thatch of dark pubic hair.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I’m going to take you apart, darling. I’m going to open you up on my fingers until you’re begging, and then I’m going to split you open on my cock.”
Anakin’s dick twitched visibly. “Please, Master, don’t tease.”
“Who said I was teasing?” Obi-Wan nudged Anakin’s thighs apart with his knee and leaned down for another kiss.
“Your beard is too rough,” Anakin complained.
He dragged his beard over his throat and down his chest until Anakin was writhing and clutching at his back. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” he gasped. “Oh Force, it’s too much but it’s—More, please!”
Obi-Wan laughed and kissed across his chest, laving his tongue over either nipple before biting hard into the pec. Anakin yelped, but his dick was hard against Obi-Wan’s stomach.
“Scoot up the bed.” Obi-Wan tapped Anakin’s hip as he gave the order.
Anakin obeyed eagerly, scrambling backward and dragging Obi-Wan back down on top of him.
Anakin pressed his nose into the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and breathed deeply. “Smell so good,” he mumbled.
“If I knew this is all it would take to make you sweet again, I would have done it ages ago,” Obi-Wan noted. “My sweet boy, I’ve missed you. I’ve even missed your temper.”
“You didn’t trust me,” Anakin whispered into his throat. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought.”
Obi-Wan could feel oily darkness curling through Anakin’s energy, stark in contrast to the sweet light of his affection and love.
“Of course I trust you, my love. More than anyone. I trusted you to forgive me for doing something so drastic.” Obi-Wan pulled back to rain kisses down on his forehead, cheeks, lips. “I was a fool. I should have told you as soon as it was safe. I’ll never lie to you again, I swear.”
Anakin wrapped a leg around Obi-Wan’s hips, tugging him down until their cocks bumped together.
“Grovel later. Right now, all I want is for you to fuck me.” Anakin’s chin jutted out, stubborn and petulant and so dear.
Obi-Wan kissed him again, deep and lingering.
Anakin melted again under the onslaught, panting and dazed when Obi-Wan pulled back to tug the lube out of his nightstand.
Anakin eyed the jar suspiciously.
“If you’re worried, I haven’t had a partner in years. This is just for me.” Obi-Wan leaned down. “Sometimes, I thought about finally using it on you, using the riding crop until you were loose-limbed and sweet for me before opening you up and taking my pleasure.”
Anakin keened, jealousy forgotten. “Please, Master, hurry up!”
Obi-Wan opened the jar, obliging, and slid down Anakin’s body to settle between his thighs. As promised, he slid his fingers back and rubbed against his opening.
The first finger went in easily, and the second was quick to follow.
“Either you’re a natural,” Obi-Wan observed, “or you’ve done this quite a bit. Did you have a partner for it?”
“No! I—I couldn’t stop thinking about—even though I was so angry—you’re all I want, Master.” Anakin kept his eyes shut. “I think you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’m only sorry it took me so long,” Obi-Wan said.
Even angry, Anakin loved him, wanted him.
Obi-Wan would strive every day to be worthy of that.
He slid in a third finger, pleased when Anakin keened and arched. “I’m ready, it’s enough, please just—fuck me!”
Anakin squirmed, cheeks flushed and tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Perfect. He was perfect.
Obi-Wan pulled his fingers out and hitched Anakin’s hips up until he could sink right in with a low groan.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Anakin babbled. “Master!”
“Once we’re on our own,” Obi-Wan drawled, “I’m going to keep you in bed for weeks, making up for lost time.”
“Yes, oh yes, I want—I’m yours, Master, all yours,” Anakin vowed.
The oily film grew more and more distant, leaving behind only what Obi-Wan recognized as Anakin’s natural state, stormy and turbulent grey, not a trace of pure black to be felt.
“There you are, dear one. I have you.” Obi-Wan kissed him and slowed his thrusts until they were deep and dragging. Loving.
Anakin needed to feel exactly how much he was loved.
“Harder, Master—I want—please!”
“No, Anakin. Can’t you feel how much you need this?” Obi-Wan stroked his free hand over every inch of skin he could reach. “Next time, you can have it exactly as hard and fast and dirty as you want. But right now, you need this.” He kissed him again. “I need this.”
Anakin threw his head back, pretty pleas falling from his lips like rain, but Obi-Wan kept his pace steady, kissing and caressing every inch he could reach, answering every plea with affection and adoration and love.
Until finally, the wave broke, and Anakin came with a cry, shaking through its intensity even as he clung to Obi-Wan through it all.
And in the Force, his orgasm was like a nova, bright and hot and inescapable. Only a few thrusts more, and Obi-Wan was following him over that precipice.
He pulled out and settled beside Anakin, curling an arm over his chest.
Anakin rolled over and tucked himself against Obi-Wan’s chest, the top of his head bumping against his chin. He nuzzled there and held on like Obi-Wan was going to send him away.
Obi-Wan pet his hair. “You’re still afraid I’ll take this back?”
Anakin nodded against his chest. His fingers curled against his back.
“Why? Do I need to be more direct about my feelings?”
Anakin shook his head. “It’s me, Obi-Wan. I… I’ve been keeping secrets from you. You’re going to be angry.”
Obi-Wan frowned down at his head. “What kind of secret? This isn’t about your trysts with Senator Amidala, is it?”
Anakin tensed, his guilt turning the cloud dark and stormy. “…rried.”
“What? I didn’t catch that.”
Anakin’s grip turned bruising. “It’s not a tryst. We’re married.”
Obi-Wan pulled back and forced distance between them. “You’re what?” But Anakin couldn’t meet his eyes, shame radiating off of him. “And you’re telling me this now?”
“I was afraid you would change your mind if you knew.”
Obi-Wan was going to throttle his idiot boy. “Are you still in love with her?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“No, Master. I think I fell in love with the idea of her. All we ever do is fight and make each other miserable. I think the marriage was… I think we made a mistake.”
“Right,” Obi-Wan said. He pointedly did not sigh, no matter how exasperated he felt. “You are going to Senator Amidala now. You are going to tell her what happened, you are going to apologize, and you are going to ask for a divorce.”
“Are you crazy? She’ll kill me!”
“You’re lucky I haven’t decided to kill you, Anakin. You used me to break your marriage vows.” Obi-Wan forced his face up by his chin. “I still love you, but if you can’t do this, we will never be doing this again. It was one thing when I thought you had a casual arrangement; marriage is another thing entirely.”
Anakin’s eyes kept darting away.
“If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Anakin paled. “I get it, all right, I understand.” He looked at Obi-Wan through his lashes. “I am sorry, Master. I… I’ve felt so trapped and scared, and I was so sure you would hate me if you knew the truth, so I couldn’t ask for help.”
Obi-Wan cupped his cheek and sighed. “Anakin, I’m not sure there’s anything you could do that would change my feelings for you. All I ask is that you don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Anakin nodded. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
“Go talk to Senator Amidala, then. We can talk to the Council after your divorce is finalized.”
Anakin darted in for a kiss; Obi-Wan allowed it, but kept it chaste. “I love you,” he insisted even as he got out of bed to get dressed again.
Some of Obi-Wan’s come leaked down his thigh. He watched it with rapt attention.
”Ugh, I’ll need to clean up first.” Anakin gave a cursory wipe, but didn’t bother to work very hard.
Too bad.
“You do know that you can never again hold my lie to you over my head, right? This is certainly at least comparable in terms of severity.” Obi-Wan’s smile was wry.
Anakin winced, but didn’t argue; he straightened his tunics with nervous hands. “Wish me luck?”
“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan said instead. Luck would have nothing to do with this.
Anakin hurried out of the room, like every moment he tarried was another moment Obi-Wan might change his mind.
He rolled his eyes. His boy never did listen to him. Force only knew how many times they would need to hash things out as they pursued their relationship.
Obi-Wan let himself smile. Relationship. That had a nice ring to it.
No matter. Obi-Wan would have plenty of time to break Anakin of his bad habits.