Obi-Wan had been beaten rather badly, but he didn't care. The pain from his various bruises and scratches was minor and fleeting; his body was damaged but far from broken. He would heal quickly, and even if that weren't true, he would have done the same thing anyway. Pain was trivial in comparison to Anakin’s safety.
The planet the Republic was liberating from the Separatists was hardly a civilized place, and Obi-Wan had exploited that fact to distract a local warchief who had somehow managed to take Anakin captive. He'd made a public performance of an alpha to alpha challenge over the omega, and then dragged out the unarmed combat long enough for a small squad to infiltrate the fortress. He was practiced in intentionally taking a beating for a distraction, and the plan had worked well.
Anakin had been successfully unchained from the warchief’s bedroom and sent immediately to the medical facility with the fleet to be evaluated. He was adamant that nothing untoward had happened, except being beaten when resisting capture, and he repeatedly insisted that they'd rescued him in time to prevent anything worse. Obi-Wan was not completely satisfied with that account. He knew his Padawan, and he knew Anakin was too upset for nothing to have happened.
Obi-Wan shifted his seat on his thin mattress and repressed a wince, hiding a twinge of hot discomfort that flared up from the gash on his arm from the other alpha’s long nails. At least he'd completely humiliated him the moment he'd gotten the all clear. He'd wanted to kill him, been more alpha than Jedi in the fight, but his training had been enough. He'd spared his miserable life.
He ran a hand down his face, smoothing his beard and mustache. He was tired but unable to relax, the sharp, sour scent of distressed omega that surrounded Anakin kept him on edge. His small cabin on the Negotiator felt impossibly full of Anakin’s presence, both in the Force and his scent. Obi-Wan felt crowded by him from across the room. He wasn't sure why Anakin had even followed him back from medical, maybe just to avoid being alone?
Anakin was pacing out all of his agitation and Obi-Wan followed his progress back and forth. He hadn't put his shirt back on, and the exposed golden skin of his chest was bare and bruised, his shoulder bandaged. His walk was fairly smooth, with only a hint of a limp, perhaps from a rolled ankle. Obi-Wan knew Anakin’s body well, and knew what it looked like when it moved right. He'd probably spent thousands of hours staring at it, correcting it.
It seemed his Padawan was essentially fine in body, which was a relief, but his mind was unsettled, and Obi-Wan was desperately curious to know why. The Force churned extra spiky and electric around him, did that mean he'd been abused somehow? Would he tell the truth if asked? Obi-Wan wasn't sure.
Anakin reached the door and spun on his heel with a huff, facing Obi-Wan again, his messy curls bouncing and gleaming in the artificial cabin light. His face was flushed, bottom lip pouting, another thing Obi-Wan recognized well: he was about to cry. He was struck again by the useless observation that Anakin was beautiful, and he set it aside.
Anakin was just a pretty crier, objectively, and always had been. Obi-Wan knew that he himself got all blotchy, but Anakin simply had the enviable quality of looking even better when distressed. Not that he looked bad to begin with, not that Obi-Wan noticed. It didn't matter.
Anakin’s pain and distress was tainting his usual sweet omega scent of honeysuckle with something sour and sharp that was making it difficult for Obi-Wan to think rationally. He breathed steadily and shallowly, reaching for inner equilibrium, but it didn't help. He needed to make Anakin feel better, to make him feel safe and secure. He needed to know.
Anakin was solidly in preheat, and should smell like a rainy summer cycle in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, heady and nectarous, like lush Alderaanian jasmine sweetened with vanilla. It was the best and most alluring scent in the galaxy, and Obi-Wan pretended he didn't crave it always. Smelling his distressed sour scent reached deep into the core of his being and twisted unpleasantly.
He knew he was protective and possessive of his former Padawan in a way that was certainly in tension with, but not in violation of, his commitment to the Jedi Order. The Jedi Code wasn't inhumane; it didn't require him to deny his essential nature as an alpha human, but it did require him to moderate his behavior and refrain from indulging his very real craving to take and have and keep his Padawan.
He thought he’d walked the line well over the past half decade since Anakin presented. Nobody was allowed to ambush Anakin’s patrol and steal him away like they had, but he himself was not insane with greed about stealing and keeping him for himself either. He’d rescue Anakin even if it meant never seeing him again. He'd always care for him, even if he never really touched him the way he did in his dreams.
Anakin broke the silence with a fervent apology. “I'm sorry, Master. I'm so sorry.”
“What?” Obi-Wan shook his head, his brows drawing together with disapproval. “Don't apologize.”
“But I am sorry. So sorry.” Anakin sniffed and roughly wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, his tears finally overflowing, glimmering tear tracks smearing on his flushed cheeks, and he was so pretty sometimes that it made Obi-Wan’s heart hurt.
“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s core tensed and he clenched his fists in his lap, and he held himself back from getting up and gathering his omega in his arms, and covering up the scent of his distress with his own smokey, autumnal orchard scent.
He reached out with the Force instead and tried to communicate even a small fraction of how much he cared, delivering with the lingering training bond all the contact he refrained from seeking physically. He knew that if he let his instincts off their tight leash even a little, he wouldn't be able to get himself back under control easily.
He had to stay in control, for Anakin’s sake. He wasn't his mate and wouldn't ever be. The Order would disapprove if he lost his head and claimed him as such, and much more importantly, Anakin had never asked for that. He deserved better than his old Master preying on his distress out of his own greed.
Anakin sat heavily down on his desk chair, and scooted closer, carefully examining all of Obi-Wan’s injuries. Their knees knocked together across the narrow gap in the small room, and Obi-Wan’s eyes roved over Anakin’s flushed and tear-streaked face, down his chest from his broad shoulders to his slender waist, noting all the bruises and bandages.
“You are hardly uninjured yourself. Would you like me to be the one apologizing to you? I'm very sorry that—”
“No!” Anakin sniffed furiously, glaring down with a furrowed brow at Obi-Wan’s split and bruised knuckles. He reached out and touched his hands, tipping them from side to side to get the full picture. “I shouldn't have let myself be taken. I should have been more aware. You trained me better than that. It's all my fault you had to… that you were…”
Obi-Wan sighed and gentled his voice, flipping his hands over to catch and hold Anakin’s, squeezing in reassurance. “Anakin, the enemy is the one at fault, not you. You were working off bad intelligence and couldn't reasonably have known it was a trap, and—”
“But—”
Obi-Wan didn’t let Anakin interrupt him. “I chose this rescue plan with full awareness of what it entailed. Release this guilt. I don't like to see you worked up like this.”
“I'm still sorry,” Anakin apologized again, his voice so earnest and full of pain, clearly far more bothered by Obi-Wan’s injuries than his own. “I don't like to see you like this either. I never want you to hurt because of me, Master. I don’t want you to hurt at all! I should have prevented this, protected you. It never should have happened at all!”
“Anakin, Padawan, stop. I'm fine. I'll be fine.”
Anakin’s face crumpled, fresh tears spilling that he didn't bother to wipe away. So pretty… “But you were hurt and it was because of me.”
“And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”
“You shouldn't ever have to.”
“But I would. Every time.”
Anakin began to weep harder, shoulders shaking, and Obi-Wan couldn't take it anymore. He hooked a hand around the back of Anakin’s neck, pulling his face into the hollow between his neck and his shoulder, offering him the comfort of his familiar, alpha scent. Anakin let himself be pulled, almost collapsing against him, and inhaled greedily, his breath hot and tears wet on Obi-Wan’s neck.
His shoulders shook as he cried out his feelings, his misery potent in the Force. Obi-Wan breathed a steady pattern, trying to set an example Anakin could match, and they fell wordlessly in sync. Anakin began to calm, his scent slowly sweetened as it mixed with his own, until it was almost back to normal. Back to perfect.
“Better?”
“Not really,” Anakin said, his voice small, and he burrowed his face harder into Obi-Wan’s neck. “I hate being an omega. I hate it.”
“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured sadly. “Don't hate any part of yourself. You're just right as you are. You don't need to be different.”
Anakin scoffed. “I don't know how you can say that. It makes me a target, makes me weak. I'm a liability.”
He sounded so miserable, Obi-Wan instinctively leaned back and invited him closer, gathering him on his lap like he had when he'd been a small, overwhelmed boy, freshly arrived at the Temple. Anakin sniffed and slid sideways onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s chest in a fierce hug. All the contact of bare chest to bare chest was too much, it was just right.
Obi-Wan exhaled sharply and gathered him closer by the hip and the nape of the neck, his fingers slipping through the soft curls. “You're far from weak, Anakin, and as a Jedi we are all already targets. I promise being an omega isn't bad or wrong.”
Anakin made a skeptical, grumpy little noise that filled Obi-Wan with fondness. He squeezed him tight, guiltily savoring the weight of him in his lap, the heat his skin radiated, his lush preheat scent. “I promise it's good. Nothing about you needs to change. I rather like you exactly as you are.”
Anakin sniffed. “Will you…”
“Will I what?”
Anakin shuddered and pulled his head back from Obi-Wan’s neck, intently seeking eye contact. “Will you mark me?”
Obi-Wan felt like he missed a step walking down stairs. “What?”
“Please?” Anakin pleaded, eyes so wide, wet, and blue. “I didn't want him to, I was so afraid he would. He said he would, but he couldn't have if I was already claimed.”
“He…” Obi-Wan swallowed and tried to regain his balance. “You mean the warchief?” Anakin nodded unhappily and Obi-Wan frowned. “What did he say?”
Anakin’s breathing was unsteady and he dropped his eyes, suddenly fascinated by the bandage on Obi-Wan’s bicep. “I don't want to repeat it. It was vile.”
“Of course.” Obi-Wan said at once. “You don't have to—”
“He said he wasn't sure.” Anakin forced out the words bitterly anyway, lip curling with disgust. “He wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy it more…”
He trailed off, and Obi-Wan was surprised to feel him push the rest of the words through the Force so he didn't have to say them aloud. He wasn't sure if he'd enjoy fucking me more now when I was dripping with heat and begging for his knot and his teeth, or in a few months when I was fat and full of his pups.
Obi-Wan’s blood ran cold, his hands squeezing tight on Anakin’s skin, clutching him close. He understood perfectly what had stopped Anakin’s tongue. It was unspeakably wrong. His voice came out rough and horrified. “Anakin…”
“So I want you to claim me.”
Obi-Wan shook his head slowly, wrestling his alpha instincts back and down with effort. It was almost impossible when the idea of Anakin heavy with some other alpha’s children was echoing in his hindbrain. “Anakin, that’s—”
Anakin’s eyes were so wide and imploring, his scent potent around him, having grown mouthwateringly sweet, impossibly tempting. “Other Jedi take each other as mates, it's allowed, we can protect each other. I know it's taboo for Master and Padawan pairs but, Master, please. I’m not a Padawan now and I want your mark, your…” he flushed crimson, his gaze dropping again. “Your knot.”
“Don’t—” Obi-Wan swallowed several times until he was sure his voice would come out level. He was completely tense, like he was carved out of stone, his pulse loud in his ears. “Today has clearly been overwhelming, you’ve just been through something traumatic, Padawan. Your heat is coming soon. You are not thinking clearly.”
“I am,” Anakin insisted, shaking his head with a frown. “It’s not just today. I’ve wanted it for years. I’ve always wanted it.”
Obi-Wan’s thrill of arousal at the idea unlocked his muscles and prompted him to move, and he attempted to pull back and push him away, but Anakin emphatically didn’t let him, his voice shading toward a whine that sent a shudder down Obi-Wan’s spine. “I hate being without it. I always have. It’s mine. I need it.”
“Anakin…”
“Please?” Anakin looked haunted, a tear sliding down his cheek and dropping onto Obi-Wan’s chest. He tipped his head back and to the side, offering up his neck to Obi-Wan’s mouth, intentionally or not painting such an alluring picture to Obi-Wan’s alpha instincts— omega needed him, omega inviting him, omega vulnerable, available, wet.
Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, stopping his resistance that had only crushed them closer together. He hated himself for how much he wanted to bite him, and lick up his wet cheek; his cock shouldn’t be getting hard from this; it was so wrong, but Anakin’s voice was husky and low and he wanted to groan with frustration. “We can’t. I can’t.”
Anakin whined, his scent stronger than ever, an intoxicating, alluring musk. “I don't want anyone to steal my first time, Obi-Wan. I don't know what it's like and I don’t want to find out from… from someone like him.”
“But why don't you know?” Obi-Wan ground out. He simply didn't understand, and Anakin just blinked at him with equal confusion. Obi-Wan tried to read between the lines, trying to think, which was hard as it felt like all his blood was dropping to his cock instead. “Your heats… you've been alone? All this time? Why?”
“Master,” Anakin said shakily. “The only person I’ve ever wanted is you, but I’ve always known that you don't want me like that, but please…”
Obi-Wan desperately pushed down a rushing, rising sense of triumph and ownership at the idea; Anakin being still innocent in this way, still untouched, was overwhelming. He’d always thought Anakin had any number of options during his heats, and there was no prohibition against healthy, consensual intercourse. Why hadn't he?
“You want me? Not someone your own age?”
“You're my alpha, Master.” Anakin tentatively leaned in and rubbed their cheeks together, his skin so warm and soft against Obi-Wan’s beard. “You've always been.”
Obi-Wan felt like he was on a knife’s edge, balanced so precariously between what he should do and what he wanted. “Anakin…”
Anakin pulled back, checking Obi-Wan’s face, and Obi-Wan didn’t know what he saw, but his eyes filled with tears and his scent shaded with distress again, rejection and grief radiating in the Force. “You don't have to knot me, sorry, I don't even know why I said that. Please, I just need you to bite me. It doesn't have to mean… I know you don't think of me as a mate, don't want me like that, but I still need your mark. Please… at least give me that.”
Obi-Wan’s self control finally gave out, something deep inside finally snapped; it was intolerable for Anakin to think he wasn’t wanted. He tipped Anakin to the side onto the bed, pushing him back and crawling on top of him. Anakin gasped and let himself be moved, and he was completely pliant and sweet beneath Obi-Wan’s hands.
“Anakin…” Obi-Wan murmured, his cock throbbed, and he leaked precome in his pants as he lay in the cradle of Anakin’s hips. He let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt Anakin’s hard cock press against his own.
“Master?” Anakin asked, an adorable mixture of confusion and hope on his face. Obi-Wan cupped his cheek with his palm, and exhaled hard as Anakin nuzzled against the contact.
Obi-Wan slowly lowered his face and pressed their lips together, the kiss almost chaste despite the obscene way Anakin’s legs wrapped around him. He pulled back after a long moment and rubbed a tear on Anakin’s cheek with his thumb. “I haven’t thought of you as my mate, but it's not a matter of whether or not I want you, darling. Of course I want you.”
Anakin rocked up against him with a whimper. “Really?”
Obi-Wan kissed him again, and lingered longer, the taste of Anakin’s lips was so perfect. He slid fingers into his curls and made a fist, tipping his head to the right angle and licked hungrily between his lips. Anakin whimpered and welcomed him in, opening up so beautifully for him and kissing back with clumsy, sweet desperation.
Obi-Wan broke the kiss to breathe and smiled at Anakin’s dazed, aroused expression. “If you had asked for a mark when you were a Padawan, I obviously would have refused. I wanted you to have a healthy development with… stable boundaries”
Anakin nodded loosely, his hands sliding up and down Obi-Wan’s back, the sensation of warm flesh and cool metal sending a thrill straight to his cock. “I know, Master.”
Obi-Wan groaned and tugged on Anakin’s hair, rolling his hips down, seeking pressure. “It hasn't been… easy.”
“Really?”
Obi-Wan laughed ruefully and began to kiss down his neck, licking and lingering over where he would put his mark. Once his omega was limp with pleasure and fucked full of his knot. “When you presented and nested in my room…”
Anakin winced. “I'm sorry. I know that—”
Obi-Wan kissed him quiet and then sought eye contact, needing him to understand. “My instinct was to claim and mark you on the spot. It was to mate you and keep you close. Only my Jedi training was enough to protect you from that impulse.”
Anakin flushed, his scent pleased and wanting. “Really? You liked it?”
Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he savored it, noting how his mouth grew wet and his cock ached. “Your scent was and still is perfect to me. Smelling it for the first time felt like the first breath of fresh air I’d ever had.”
“Oh,” Anakin said, voice thick. “I didn’t know.”
“I made sure. I wanted you to feel safe.”
“I did. I do. I always have.”
Obi-Wan reluctantly withdrew to sit on his heels between Anakin’s spread legs, unfastening his own trousers and pulling them off, helping Anakin do the same until they were both nude. Anakin’s slim, hard cock was so pretty. He stroked the fine hair on Anakin’s thighs and breathed the scent of their combined arousal.
“I think the only way I survived the rest of your Padawan years was that you didn't need my mark for everyone to know you were mine.”
Anakin shifted his hips needily, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan’s cock. “I didn’t?”
Obi-Wan tugged fondly on the curls behind his right ear to get his attention back to his face. “Your braid, Padawan. It was enough of a symbol for my alpha instinct to relax. You were visibly mine. I admit these past months since your Knighting have been… difficult.”
“Master…” Anakin said with so much agreement, and reached up for him, trying to tug him back down into his arms. “I haven't liked it either.”
Obi-Wan brushed his hands off, and grabbed him by the hips, flipping and rolling him over onto his stomach instead. Anakin whined as his cock rubbed against the blanket. “Master!”
“Relax, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Let me take care of you.”
“I don't know what to do,” Anakin confessed weakly, looking over his shoulder, adorably concerned. “You're… you're big.”
“Just obey me and I'll guide you.” Anakin shuddered and nodded, and Obi-Wan squeezed his hips fondly. “All you need to do is take it. I promise you will take it so well, darling, like you were made for it. Made for me.”
Anakin whimpered, and his hands made fists in the sheets as he tilted his hips and spread his legs, presenting for Obi-Wan as if on irrepressible instinct. “Please, alpha.”
Obi-Wan groaned and pulled Anakin’s hips up so that he was on his knees, his back swayed out long in a lovely curve. He ran a hand up and down Anakin’s spine once before dragging his fingers between his legs, feeling his slick for the first time. He made a low, satisfied noise to find him soaked. “Good boy.”
“Oh!” Anakin rocked his hips back needily, the Force alive with his desire, his aroused scent so potent. “Please…”
Obi-Wan knocked Anakin’s thighs further apart with a knee and tipped his hips forward, exposing the slick, pink skin of his hole to his greedy observation. Anakin’s embarrassment flared, and Obi-Wan lightly traced the rim with his fingertips. “Sometimes I would stare at your lips as you talked and wondered if your hole was the same color, picturing it in my mind despite myself.”
“What?” Anakin squeaked, looking incredulously over his shoulder. “You did?”
“I pretended I didn’t think about it when I fucked my fist in the shower, but I did.”
“Master…” Anakin wiggled needily, trying to push into Obi-Wan’s hand, and Obi-Wan smiled at how cute his desperation was. “Please!”
“Be patient,” Obi-Wan instructed affectionately. “You’re already so wet, you’ll hardly need any preparation. It won’t be long, I promise.”
Anakin pouted, and Obi-Wan slipped a finger in his slick hole, easily parting the muscle and sliding inside to the knuckle. Anakin made a surprised noise, his mouth falling open and eyes fluttering closed as Obi-Wan carefully began to stretch and prepare him. He panted and rocked against him as best he could, his voice was so incredulous and sweet. “That feels so good already, Master.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan murmured, adding another finger, even faster than he’d thought. “You open up so beautifully, Anakin, Force, you should see the way you take my fingers.”
“I can feel it,” Anakin whined. “I can take more. I can take it. Please, I’m ready, I’m—”
“Shh,” Obi-Wan shushed him. “I decide how fast we go. You just lay there and take it.”
“Yes, Master…”
“Good.” The small cabin was quiet except for their breathing, the sound of Obi-Wan’s fingers slipping in and out faster. Obi-Wan’s heart was racing, his cock throbbing. He needed to get inside him, fuck in deep and stay there. “So good for me, omega.”
“Please,” Anakin begged breathlessly. “Please, alpha, please!”
Obi-Wan’s restraint finally gave way, judging him to be ready enough, and he slipped his fingers out, spreading the slick on his hand up and down his cock. He groaned as he squeezed the head of his cock, and felt Anakin’s arousal spike in the Force at the sound of his pleasure. Anakin was staring at the way his hand moved on his cock, biting his bottom lip.
Obi-Wan held his cock by the base, lining up the head with Anakin’s hole and tapping it against him lightly. Anakin whined, and he pushed back again, straining against Obi-Wan’s other hand gripping his hip. “Please!”
“Be still,” Obi-Wan instructed sternly, and Anakin moaned in complaint.
“But I need—”
“You’ll get it,” Obi-Wan promised, voice rough and low. “But only if you stay still.”
“Yes, alpha.”
Obi-Wan carefully pushed the head of his cock against Anakin’s hole, letting the tip tease inside before pulling back. Anakin whimpered loudly. He was so impossibly hot and slick, the pressure on his cock was the best thing Obi-Wan had ever felt. The omega was trembling and panting, but remained still, and Obi-Wan made a pleased noise. “Good boy.”
“Please,” Anakin whimpered and moaned as Obi-Wan teased him, and then made a loud, surprised sound as Obi-Wan finally thrust the head of his cock inside and did not pull it back out. “Please, yes! Alpha, yes!”
Obi-Wan exhaled hard, fascinated by the way Anakin’s body was sucking and holding him in tight. He adjusted his grip on Anakin’s hips and carefully rolled his hips forward, thrusting his cock inches deeper inside. Anakin tensed with surprise, and Obi-Wan went still to allow him to adjust before doing it again with more force.
Anakin’s hips were so narrow but he opened up so well, taking his cock so well. “So big,” Anakin panted and whined. “Alpha, so big.”
Obi-Wan rumbled in agreement, thrusting his cock in deeper, almost completely buried inside, and he felt lost inside Anakin’s perfect heat. Anakin just moaned and took it so well, better than he could have dreamed. “So good for me, so good.”
“Thank you,” Anakin whispered fervently, and looked back at him. “Just what I wanted.” He tried to squirm back and take more than Obi-Wan was giving him, his greed rising in the Force as the pain slipped away. “You can fuck me now, fuck me harder.”
“I will not hurt you,” Obi-Wan denied him, not varying the slow rolling of his hips. The pain was less, but not gone. His alpha cock was big, and Anakin’s untouched hole was so tight. He would not rush this. “I decide when you’re ready. You are reckless and impatient, Anakin. Be a good boy for once and just take it.”
“Master,” Anakin complained as he went still again. “Yes, Master.”
Obi-Wan could never have guessed how sweet Anakin was capable of being, how obedient and pliant. He fucked in harder at the idea of it, his troublesome, unruly, defiant Padawan, trembling and tame beneath him. One last thrust and he groaned loudly, completely buried inside, balls deep, Anakin’s heat surrounding him completely.
Anakin sniffed, and Obi-Wan checked his expression, sending a tendril of concern in the Force that Anakin returned with a wave of pleasure and gratitude. “Wanted this so bad. Was so scared. Needed you, alpha, needed this, I thought—”
Obi-Wan leaned forward and tugged Anakin’s face back, kissing him and cutting off his babbling. Anakin moaned and kissed back, increasingly sloppy and clumsy as Obi-Wan began to fuck him harder, clearly overwhelmed by the slapping sound of their hips meeting with more and more force, the slick sound of Obi-Wan’s cock slipping in and out of his hole.
Obi-Wan kissed down the side of his neck, licking and sucking on his mating gland, feeling like he was tasting some kind of divine ambrosia, the concentrated scent of his pleasure was pushing worryingly close to the edge already. He pushed Anakin down, fucking him into the mattress harder and harder.
“Come in me,” Anakin whimpered. “I want it, your knot, please, alpha!”
Obi-Wan was beyond words, and began to chase his own release as Anakin took him more and more easily. He’d worry about making the omega come once he was locked on his knot. He fucked him faster, shorter and rougher thrusts that made Anakin grin. “Yes! Use me, please, feel good, alpha.”
Obi-Wan groaned and felt his knot beginning to swell, he fucked inside hard, jolting Anakin’s body as he forced him to take it. He began to come, pleasure releasing in an overwhelming wave and detonating in his brain. He felt sucked out to sea, lost in it, and he bit down hard on Anakin’s neck to stay sane. His teeth broke the skin and dug in deep.
He smelled Anakin’s come as it spilled without having touched his cock, heard his loud cry of incredulous pleasure and relief, as it mingled with pain as he took his mark, his first knot. Obi-Wan’s cock pulsed again and again, filling him with come. Despite intellectually knowing about his birth control implant, he still felt like he was breeding his omega, and it was deeply satisfying on a level he’d never be able to put into words.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, tremulous and overwhelmed. “Obi-Wan.”
“I’m here,” Obi-Wan rasped, and he held him to his chest and carefully brought them both to lay on their sides, not jostling him much on his knot, clutching him close. “Anakin, I’m here.”
Anakin shuddered, more tears spilling, radiating relief in the Force. “You did it. You actually… I never thought.”
Obi-Wan pressed a gentle kiss near where he’d marked him, and squeezed him tight. “I never thought you’d ask. I never thought you’d want to be mine like this.”
Anakin huffed a weak laugh. “I always was. Glad you’re finally on board.”
Obi-Wan hummed, his orgasm making him feel warm and full and wistful. “I never really liked letting you out of my sight unmarked, let alone sending you off to battle. It drove me crazy to think that people won't see a warning that you're protected, and unavailable to be taken. They needed to know that someone will always come for you.”
“Now they will,” Anakin twisted his neck to give him a wide, loose grin. “They’ll always know.”
Obi-Wan kissed him gently and held him close, savoring the heat and pressure around his knot. “Rest, omega.”
Anakin sighed happily and went limp in his arms, his contentment radiating in the Force. He smelled like comfort and sex and Obi-Wan, with Obi-Wan’s claim mingling their scents until they were interchangeable and indistinguishable, honeyed flowers and smokey apples merging together into one thing instead of two. Mates.
Obi-Wan smiled with relief and kissed him again. "Rest."