Murder Puppy

The evening air on Christophsis was muggy, and almost too warm. 

Darth Vader brooded near the window, looking out over the blue crystalline city, his arms folded forbiddingly across his chest. The view from the penthouse of the tower that had been occupied as the headquarters of the Separatist forces was unparalleled, and he could see for miles. His clone informant had tipped him off that the Jedi had left the Republic base, and was heading his direction. 

Finally. 

It felt as though he had been waiting for hours, days, or weeks, not just minutes since that notification. He needed to kill the Jedi, or at least distract him long enough for the C.I.S. reinforcements to land, and the Republic weapons store and landing pad to be sabotaged. His plans for taking the planet were solid, and had been in the works for a long time. He was sure that it would lead to the utter decimation of the Republic forces on the planet.

He very much looked forward to reporting his success to Darth Tyranus, and proving that he was right to have been sent off Serenno without supervision. He was ready for more freedom and responsibility. He knew he was ready. He couldn’t mess things up. Tyranus would cut off his other hand. He let that fear tangle with and reinforce his rage, driving him closer and closer to a productive mood for battle. 

He glared at his shadowy reflection in the transparisteel, trying to let his anger fill his chest and drive out all extraneous thoughts. He knew exactly who was coming towards him. He knew exactly who he was about to meet, or kill, preferably. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight.

Darth Vader hated Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He hated him for being a Jedi, obviously, but more specifically, he hated him because he had killed Darth Maul. Maul had been something of an elder brother to Vader, briefly part of his life for Vader’s first years among the Sith. He hadn’t grown to feel any particular fondness for him, such things not having been encouraged, but it still had been infuriating to watch him be cut in half. Over and over and over.

Lord Sidious had obtained the security holograms from Naboo, and Tyranus had shown them to Vader. He had been 10, Maul had been cut apart, and he hated the Padawan who did it, loathed him with a burning passion. He had watched the fight thousands of times in the years afterward, and had practiced the fight in holo over and over in the training room. Killing Obi-Wan, over and over. 

He’d been preparing for this moment, for today, for more than a decade, and he would finally have his revenge. His lips curled up in a humorless smile as he tracked a small figure on a speeder bike approaching the main entrance. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He was here.

Vader reflexively touched his lightsaber and then ran an excited hand through his hair, pushing his curls back and off his forehead. He turned to the stairs, darting down to the first floor, eager to begin the fight. It would be the first time he’d fought an actual Jedi Knight, and he was excited to test his skill against a real opponent, let alone his nemesis. 

He fell into the Force as best he could, feeling out for the Jedi. He was so close. Vader heard him before he saw him, a voice with a crisp, sophisticated Coruscanti accent muttering disparagingly. “So, this is the belly of the beast.” Vader stepped out of the shadows, and Obi-Wan noticed him with narrowing eyes. 

In person, Obi-Wan was both smaller and larger than Vader had prepared for. He was just a man, the size of any other, not a looming titan as he’d been in Vader’s imagination. He was also extremely powerful in the Force, for all that his vague expression of serenity belied it. Vader could feel the way he walked with the Force, and sneered. He could have been so much more powerful if he wasn’t a slave to weakness. 

Obi-Wan was studying him intently in return, eyes fixed and lingering on his face, before he dipped his head forward in a courtly bow, drawing his lightsaber but not igniting it. He introduced himself in an extremely polite tone, as if Vader wouldn’t already know exactly who he was. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I inquire as to your name?” 

Vader frowned, annoyed by the question and its tone, and not sure if he was actually supposed to answer. He was going to kill him, so it didn’t matter if he knew his name. Right? He huffed and adopted his preferred opening stance, igniting his lightsaber and finding power and strength in the familiar hum of the red blade. “My name is Darth Vader.”

“Is it really?” 

Obi-Wan sounded politely interested, and it made Vader’s blood boil with rage, his knuckles going white on his lightsaber hilt. How dare he speak so casually? Was he not taking this seriously? Obi-Wan finally ignited his own blade, and tipped his head to the side with curiosity. “Is that what your friends call you?”

“Friends?” Vader asked blankly, taken aback. Friends? On Serenno? The idea was absurd, almost repulsive. “I’m not a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan then did something inexcusable: he laughed. 

His eyes filled with good humor, and the amused, indulgent sound of his laugh brought a crash of loathing down on Vader, making his heart pound and his focus sharpen. Good. He heard Tyranus’s voice in his head, ordering him harshly to turn his anger into power. He would destroy him quickly.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry, crooked smile, his tone ever just so patronizing. “Jedi aren’t the only people who have friends, Darth.” Vader snarled at the disrespect delivered with that title, and Obi-Wan spun his blade up, positioning himself into a very predictable defensive guard, two fingers pointing up at Vader, waiting for him to move first. 

Vader shook his head at the Jedi’s blithe arrogance. He lept down the stairs, swinging overhand with a powerful strike that Obi-Wan moved smoothly to block. Their blades locked together for a second before Vader wrenched away. He began a complex flurry of blows, testing Obi-Wan’s defenses, modulating his breathing and falling into the rhythm of combat.

All of Tyranus’s years of brutal training about fluidity were in evidence, his relentless teaching style of punishing failure after failure, until Vader could barely stand, and then still expecting him to finish the exercise. It all gave him an advantage of grace to his natural strength. He needed all the advantages he could get.

Obi-Wan was a frustratingly formidable warrior, Vader knew that all too well, and he hardly seemed disturbed by Vader’s onslaught. He fought with a smirk on his face and a flush to his cheeks, almost dancing through his defense. He subtly tried to bait Vader into overextending himself, and Vader almost fell for it.

He snarled and fixed his footing to regain balance. Obi-Wan’s eyes followed the movement, and then his expression turned evaluative, looking Vader up and down. “You have excellent footwork, young one.”

What?  

Vader faltered clumsily in a transition, his rhythm broken. It felt like someone had struck him hard on the back of the head, and he frowned. Was Obi-Wan mocking him? That was hardly Jedi-like behavior.

Obi-Wan exploded outward into motion, taking advantage of Vader’s confusion to press on the offensive, and he used a swift combination of forms to throw him off balance. He pressed Vader back, their blades flashing and crackling as they connected and separated quickly. The sound of their combat filled the room, echoed back strangely by the crystalline walls. 

Vader’s well-trained footwork was the only thing keeping him from stumbling as Obi-Wan pressed him back, and he growled with frustration at being put on the defensive by a kriffing Jedi. He let his anger at Obi-Wan fill him, trying to regain his forward momentum. He didn’t know why his focus was so sloppy, and he leaned into that confusion to find the rage behind it. 

It was just so surreal to be fighting the real, actual Obi-Wan, not the transparent, blue holoprojection of his training droid. He looked slightly older, had a beard, and his braid was gone. Vader could hear the sound of his breathing, see the color of his skin, hair, and eyes. He moved so smoothly, each motion unpredictable but inevitable. He was so bright in the Force, he felt fresh and warm, like a summer morning. 

Vader growled and blocked a lightning quick strike to his leg. He used the Force to lift a table from behind Obi-Wan and yanked it forward quickly. He flipped up and out of the way, hoping to distract or disable. Instead, he heard an amused, “Oh, very well done. You are very talented with the Force, aren’t you?” 

Was he mocking him again?

Vader glared over to where Obi-Wan had dodged the table, and found that Obi-Wan was giving him that same speculative, evaluating stare as before. Vader hated that look. He ordered him emphatically, “Stop talking!” 

Obi-Wan just smiled at him, and Vader used the twisting, hot rage in his chest to lift and throw several chairs across the room. Obi-Wan dodged two of them and cut one in half with a flourish, giving Vader an amused smile and winking at him. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

Vader’s eyes widened, indignation and offense scalding him. “We’re not supposed to be having fun!”

Was Obi-Wan not taking him seriously as a threat? 

The thought made him feel an emotion somewhere past livid that he hadn’t ever reached before. Obi-Wan would take him seriously when he cut him down! He found the momentum to launch himself forward, attacking ferociously. “You’re supposed to die.” 

“Shame,” Obi-Wan sighed in an irritating, affected manner, his bladework impeccable as he retreated. “I would prefer not to.”

“Doesn’t matter what you want, Jedi.”

Vader allowed the dark side of the Force to rise up and through him, and his speed increased, seeking the weak points in Obi-Wan’s fluid defense with Force-assisted quickness. “You’ll get what you deserve.”

Obi-Wan’s defense did not falter for an instant. It was intolerable; his eyes were far too soft for someone fighting for his life. “Is that what they tell you? Dear one, you deserve much better than that.”

Dear one? 

Deserve better?

“Stop it!” Vader snarled, feeling a flush of heat, and spun his blade around for a powerful two-handed overhand strike to cleave Obi-Wan’s skull. His attack was admittedly sloppy, but he reached for the raw strength to break through anyway. His face was burning, his stomach coiling with rage. 

Dear one.

Obi-Wan dodged, his fluidity only increasing as Vader’s own decreased, and he slid away from every blow like a retreating tide. He gave no openings, allowing himself to be pushed back toward the wall. He was beginning to sweat slightly, a slight sheen to his forehead. “Stop what, telling the truth? You do deserve to have friends, Vader.”

“Stop talking!” Vader spat out. Obi-Wan smirked, and easily parried a blow. The expression on his face was so loud and intolerable that Vader repeated himself emphatically. “Stop talking!” 

He swung hard again and Obi-Wan caught his lightsaber with his own, letting Vader’s momentum draw him closer, going body-to-body. Obi-Wan’s face was suddenly so close to his own, and the flickering light in his blue eyes was oddly mesmerizing, inescapable and intense, his voice so disgustingly gentle. 

“Stop fighting, dearest, you’ve done very well, but you don’t need to fight me. I don’t want to fight you.”

Dearest? 

Not fight? 

The idea that Obi-Wan meant that somehow, that he was not mocking him with his words, occurred to Vader with a bolt of pure, electric terror. Why would he say that? A distraction? Was he asking him to surrender? Tyranus would cut him in half for listening to him at all.

Dearest. 

Vader’s confusion was so potent, his frustration with everything unexpected about this encounter was overwhelming— the lack of sense was driving him almost mindless with rage. He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on his face, avidly watching him process, and he hated it, hated him. He had to die. 

Vader attacked ferociously, and Obi-Wan defended himself with finesse. He used the Force to leap away and Vader turned after him, growling as he moved out of reach, glaring after him. “You don’t have a choice about fighting, Obi-Wan.”

He enjoyed the way Obi-Wan’s name felt in his mouth, and saying it directly to his face was so satisfying— it felt like an over-familiarity that he’d earned in the thousands of hours he spent attacking his image. He circled around, twisting his wrist and spinning his blade absently. “You’ll fight, and you’ll die.” 

Obi-Wan had the audacity to roll his eyes, and defended cleanly against his attack, giving ground. Vader pushed him back, trying to corner him and end the fight, but somehow Obi-Wan was unerring in predicting his every move. Vader’s frustration at that fact must have made it to his face, his scowl deepening. 

“You are very skilled with a blade, Vader, but…” Obi-Wan spoke so kindly, complimenting Vader like they were just doing a bit of friendly sparring. He defended himself and pushed Vader back, giving him an almost insufferable smile. “You’re telegraphing your moves with your hips.”  

Vader’s chest felt tight, his mouth oddly dry. He was well aware that whatever strategy Obi-Wan was using against him was worryingly effective at distracting him. He attacked again to make Obi-Wan stop saying words like that to him. Why was everything he said so… suggestive? Nobody said things like that to Vader, not ever.

Vader knew he wasn’t making any headway in breaking through Obi-Wan’s excellent defense, and was bouncing off him for all the good his attacks did. He was better than this. If Obi-Wan stopped talking, everything would be fine. He could kill him.

Obi-Wan opened his stupid mouth again, inhaling, about to say more inexplicable and annoying things, and Vader cut him off. “Do you ever shut up?” 

He caught his breath for a second before launching himself forward again, straining with the strength he was putting into every blow. “Do you ever shut your mouth?”

“Sometimes, but…” Obi-Wan said in a slow, leading tone that made Vader’s stomach twist with rage. “I’ve heard people like my mouth open.”

“What?” Vader choked out. Why would they— He blinked quickly, his thoughts flying past too fast to really cohere into anything meaningful. He frowned with confusion, breathing hard, and they circled each other, their guards up.

“You heard me,” Obi-Wan teased him again, and Vader shook his head as if to clear it, refocusing on the fight. He couldn’t listen to this, he couldn’t be distracted!

“I’d like to hear you,” Obi-Wan continued, his tone low and inviting, the words curling around Vader and caressing him, making him shudder. “I’d like you to open your mouth.”

“E chu ta sleemo,” Vader swore in the language of his boyhood, surprising himself. Tyranus had long ago disciplined him out of doing that. He felt overwhelmingly appalled, the end of his blade dipping slightly. “What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan circled him, smiling warmly. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, and his voice was breathless and coy. “Making a friend, I hope.” 

Friend?

Vader felt paralyzed; nothing was processing and he felt everything, all at once. Obi-Wan was watching his face again, maddeningly patient. His words had been so teasing, but there was no malice or cruelty in his eyes at all, only appreciation and interest, but he couldn’t look at him like that, he couldn’t… 

“Do you want to be friends, Vader?”

No. Yes. He wanted a friend. He couldn’t want that. He’d never have it. Never.

“Stop it!” Vader said sharply, his blade moving to defend against the verbal blow. He felt somehow like he’d lost the fight already, had been backed into a corner that wasn’t physical. His muscles felt locked, his cheeks were so hot, his heart pounding. 

“Do you really want me to, darling?” Obi-Wan said archly, like he knew more about what Vader was feeling than Vader did. He began to push on the offensive, and Vader could tell he was more being herded back toward a wall than truly attacked. He just couldn’t get his focus back well enough to stop and regain the advantage. 

He felt so hot, why couldn’t he think straight? Why did his chest ache like this? He didn’t understand this feeling at all. He wanted something so much, but he didn’t know what he wanted. 

“You’ve fought well,” Obi-Wan praised him, his eyes somehow darker than they had been before, intent in a different way too. What was different? His voice was almost hypnotizing, his words captivating. “It was very well done, but we can be finished now.” 

Obi-Wan smoothly performed a difficult sequence of moves that hooked and removed Vader’s blade from his hand, and Vader let him. He was suddenly unarmed and flatfooted, his mind a churning mess, there was a ringing in his ears, and his mouth felt so dry. 

He gasped with surprise when his back hit the wall, and he shivered as Obi-Wan’s lightsaber came up to rest an inch away from his neck. He got caught in Obi-Wan’s stare again, feeling so lost and adrift in his eyes. What was happening? 

Obi-Wan smiled gently, the skin beside his eyes crinkling with approval. Nobody looked at Vader like that. His voice was so husky and kind. “We can be finished, my sweet boy.” 

My sweet boy.

Vader squeezed his eyes closed and almost whined, and he realized with a swell of fear that he was getting hard. He didn’t believe it— why was he getting hard? How? Tyranus had tortured him for an entire day when he’d felt in the Force the first and only time Vader had touched himself. He’d never gotten hard while awake after that. 

Sweet boy.

Obi-Wan was watching him in that same inexplicable way, his eyes hooded and dark, and his voice was rough, hardly teasing at all. “Would you like to be finished?”

Vader inhaled sharply. What did that mean? Obi-Wan was so close that he could smell him, and feel his hot breath on his face. The entire room had collapsed to the inches between them, Obi-Wan filled his field of vision, the only thing that mattered. Vader needed to move, he needed to stay here forever. 

He swallowed loudly and stuttered. “Y-yes? What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly as if incredulous, and murmured, “You, hopefully, sweetheart.”  

What did that mean? Do… me? Vader had vague memories of jokes he didn’t understand, such things not having been discussed with him by Tyranus or anyone else, but that couldn’t be what was happening, was it? 

Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and replaced the glowing blade that had been crackling an inch from Vader’s skin with a hand on his neck, holding him against the wall. The warmth of his skin against Vader’s, the simultaneous softness of it and roughness of his lightsaber calluses, was overwhelming and it made him shiver. 

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than a droid had touched him except in combat. It felt so good. Why was Obi-Wan doing this? Vader opened his mouth to ask what the kriff was happening when Obi-Wan suddenly leaned forward and kissed him, his warm, soft lips pressing against Vader’s insistently. 

Vader’s eyes opened wide in surprise. What? 

He moaned as Obi-Wan sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, the sensation of it unlike anything he had ever felt before, arousal sliding down his spine like molten metal, heat pooling in his gut. His cock ached in a way that he wasn’t familiar with, his head feeling strangely light. 

Obi-Wan gently bit his lip, pulling it in his teeth as he moved back. Vader’s cock throbbed and leaked into his pants, and he didn’t understand, he hadn’t known that felt like that. 

He met Obi-Wan’s intense blue eyes, breathing quickly and shallowly. He wanted more; Tyranus would kill him. “I c-can’t,” Vader said, feeling so lost. “What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan tipped his head from side to side, a secretive smile spreading like the two of them were in a conspiracy. His voice was hushed and teasing, and it made Vader’s cock throb in an intense pulse of need. “I’m being irresponsible. Would you like to be irresponsible too? I think you’ve earned it, you did do so very, very well.” 

Every word of praise felt like a punch to his gut. Tyranus never praised him, nobody did. Vader liked it so much, it felt so good, he wanted more of it. Tyranus and Sidious would kill him for this.

“They’ll know,” Vader said, imagining how it would be to report what had happened, how much the lightning would hurt, and how long it would last. Apologies, my Lords, I was distracted when he called me a sweet boy and kissed me. 

Distracted. 

Vader’s eyes widened, excitement blooming in his chest. Obi-Wan was here, looking at him, touching him, not worrying about his base. He wasn’t the only one who was distracted, and maybe that would work as an excuse. It was a trap, he was trapping him. “Okay! Yes, okay.” 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and tightened his grip on Vader’s neck gently, making him whimper. His voice had that patronizing edge back. “Sweetheart, you are as subtle as a ton of duracrete. I already know this is a distraction, and my best men are working on the problem.” 

Vader felt like a small candle of hope was blown out, his face falling. Obi-Wan just smiled at him, his face softening again, all the disdain gone. “You are so cute.”

Cute? His mom had—

Vader crushed the thought, staring deep into Obi-Wan’s dark eyes. “I am not.”

“You are,” Obi-Wan said sincerely, his free hand coming up to push Vader’s curls back off his forehead. He petted Vader’s head in a way that made him shiver, fingers scratching and sending tingles down his spine. “You are just the cutest thing.”

Cutest.

Vader knew he should feel beyond indignant, should feel rage at the way Obi-Wan was treating him, but all he felt was flustered and overwhelmed by it. He wanted to be cute. Obi-Wan gently kissed him, and Vader’s world collapsed into the sweet pressure of his lips. He almost whimpered when Obi-Wan pulled back.

Obi-Wan then said something completely inexcusable: “I want to take care of you.”

Take care of him, Vader whined at the idea, the want that it triggered was an ache that exploded in his chest, the longing for someone, anyone, to do that, someone to care about him. Nobody since—

Obi-Wan let go of his neck, giving him that same evaluating stare as before, and Vader had no idea what he was reading on his face. He seemed satisfied with whatever he saw there, and pecked another kiss on Vader’s lips before dropping to his knees.

What? 

Vader looked down with wide eyes at the way Obi-Wan was kneeling before him, looking up with mischief and hunger in his eyes. He asked dumbly, “What are you doing!?” 

Obi-Wan dropped his gaze and gently ran a hand up Vader’s thigh to where the length of his hard cock was clearly visible in his pants. Vader gasped at the light contact, and then Obi-Wan squeezed his hand gently. Vader groaned, and felt an urge to press his hips forward to chase the pressure. It felt so good, so good.

“I’m taking care of you,” Obi-Wan said like it was an obvious thing to do.

He began unfastening Vader’s pants and Vader moaned, his hands twitching, not sure if he should stop him or help him. Obi-Wan spoke words that felt like a caress. “I’m going to give you what you want.”

“What I want?”

Vader suddenly felt like the entire concept was foreign to him. The only thing that mattered was what Tyranus wanted, what Sidious wanted. 

“Yes, what you want,” Obi-Wan nodded, and pulled Vader’s cock out of his pants, stroking him lightly. Vader whined— the feeling of Obi-Wan's warm, strong hand on his cock, was so overwhelmingly good. He had no idea this feeling even existed, that this sensation was possible. 

Obi-Wan looked up, meeting his eyes, and his gaze was far too knowing and kind. “Do they let you have what you want?”

“I...” Vader couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, not with Obi-Wan’s hands on his skin, rubbing him, teaching him how sensitive his body was, how good it felt to be touched. He felt dizzy with it, and was grateful his back was to a wall. His face felt so hot, his cock ached, and he wanted something, needed something, something more.  

Obi-Wan kept eye contact, and sucked spit into his mouth. Was he really going to… Vader gasped, jolting with surprise as Obi-Wan licked along the length of his cock, spreading the saliva, and then sucked the head into his mouth.

His cock was inside Obi-Wan Kenobi’s mouth…

Vader moaned loudly at the wet heat, his eyes rolling back, and his hips jerked, unconsciously chasing after the feeling. Obi-Wan coughed and pulled his head back, popping his mouth off his cock. “Stay still, please, dear one. Let me do the work, let me take care of you.”

“Of… of course… s-sorry,” Vader said quickly, his cock aching in the absence of the best thing he’d ever felt and needed to feel again. “I don’t, I haven’t...”

Obi-Wan smiled an instant and total forgiveness. Affection filled his face, and his voice was so gentle. “Of course, darling. I didn’t think, don’t worry.” He reached up and grabbed Vader’s hips, holding him still with a tight grip. His hands were so strong, his fingers so thick.  

Vader watched, breathless, as Obi-Wan stuck out his tongue and then took his cock deep into his mouth, letting it slide down his throat, sucking him all the way in. He gasped with alarm, the head of his cock was squeezed so tight, his cock was so hot and wet, all at once. He was so close to—

Obi-Wan gripped his hips hard, and moved his head up to let Vader’s cock sink further down his throat, working him even deeper inside, swallowing and sucking. “Karking fierfek!” Vader swore, and his head thumped back hard against the wall, and he barely felt it, with the wave of pleasure from his cock sunk so deep inside Obi-Wan.  

Obi-Wan hummed around his cock, and it felt so unbelievably good. He pulled back and smirked up at Vader, his lips swollen and wet, voice rough. “Language.”

Vader stared down at him, the surreality of Obi-Wan Kenobi on his knees striking him again, even harder. His cock leaked and Obi-Wan immediately licked it up, his tongue sliding slowly along the slit as he studied Vader’s face. “Did you like that? Do you want more of it?”

“Yes, yes!” Vader said, quickly, emphatically. “I liked that. It was nice.” 

Obi-Wan looked worried for a moment, and then he squeezed Vader’s hips in a gentle reassurance. He slowly sucked his cock in again, gently sliding his lips up and down, finding a smooth rhythm. It felt like time stopped, eddying and pooling around them as Obi-Wan pleasured him with his mouth.

He made an involuntary noise of protest as Obi-Wan pulled back to breathe. Obi-Wan just smiled up at him, his thumbs rubbing circles on his hips encouragingly. “Would you like other nice things?” 

Vader nodded slowly, very confused, and Obi-Wan used his grip on his hips to spin him around so that he was facing the wall, tugging his pants down past his knees. He began to ask, “Wh—” and Obi-Wan’s warm hands slid up the back of his thighs to cup and squeeze his ass, his thumbs sliding between his cheeks and pulling them apart. “What—” He was looking at his… “What?!” Why was he doing that? Why would he want to—

Vader’s forehead clunked against the wall as he felt Obi-Wan’s warm breath on his extremely sensitive skin, and then the wet heat of a tongue licking and spreading saliva around his hole. His hips jerked, and his cock throbbed sharply at the sensation. He’d never felt anything like that before, had no idea that was so sensitive, no idea that people did this at all— it seemed beyond filthy, he couldn't believe…   

Obi-Wan pulled back slightly to breathe, and his voice was so incredible, the sophisticated accent, the roughness and raspiness of it after sucking his cock. “You’re so cute, here too, do you know that?” 

Vader scoffed loudly at the idea, and the noise turned into a moan when Obi-Wan leaned forward again, burying his face against him and licking him. One of his hands left Vader’s ass and slid to his cock, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking down its wet length. He repeated the gesture, twisting his wrist slightly. 

It felt so good. Vader was burning up, he was shaking and tight, approaching an edge of sensation, overwhelmed. Obi-Wan’s mouth was… and his hand…

Obi-Wan’s tongue pressed into Vader slightly, his hand moving faster on his cock, and Vader moaned, trying on instinct to both press his hips back into Obi-Wan’s mouth and forward into his hand. It was so much, too much. Abruptly, pleasure crashed over Vader, the edge was there, and he was past it. His cock was pulsing, spilling hot come into Obi-Wan’s hand. 

He groaned loudly, incredulously. It felt electric, the pleasure crackling through his body, the release of it was something he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. Nothing even close to it. It was so good, how had he been missing this? 

He rested his head against the wall, feeling perfectly loose and spent. It was a new kind of exhaustion that wasn’t accompanied by pain, and it was unfamiliar to him. He loved it. He wanted this more, every day, all the time.

“Force, that felt incredible.”

Obi-Wan stood up behind him, pressing against his back and resting his chin on his shoulder. “May I fuck you?”

Vader’s jaw dropped slightly. What—

“You’ve been so good for me, coming like that.” Obi-Wan’s praise was raspy, low, and utterly intoxicating. “I loved that, seeing that, hearing that.” He began tracing his fingers around Vader’s hole, still so wet with spit, and Vader whimpered. Obi-Wan kissed his neck gently and then whispered in his ear, “Darling, please, let me fuck you. I want to, I want to very badly.”

“I… I haven’t...” Vader felt like his face was on fire, shuddering as Obi-Wan’s soft lips pressed a line of kisses down his neck, and his fingers rubbed teasing circles on his ass. “I don’t know how.” 

Obi-Wan sucked harder on his neck, a hand coming up and running through Vader’s curls, scratching his scalp and making him whine. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart, you just have to take it.” His fingers pressed slightly harder against Vader’s ass. “Can you take it?”

“I think… Yes, I think…” Vader muttered, his hips rocking back, pressing against Obi-Wan’s hand. “Please?” 

“Oh, you’re perfect, just perfect,” Obi-Wan murmured, fingers still tracing and stroking his soft skin. Vader whined negatively, he was not perfect, not even close. He was a failure, always failing. Obi-Wan repeated himself with gentle emphasis, “You are.” He began to press one of his thick fingers inside his tight hole, sliding it inside very slowly, the low rumble of his voice making Vader’s cock throb. 

“Have you had anything in your ass before? Have you ever put your fingers in your ass, sweetheart?”

“N-no,” Vader said, incredulous at the idea. “I couldn’t..." He didn’t know that people did this. He didn’t know, how could he? "I can’t... I don’t...” He was losing coherence as Obi-Wan began gently fucking him faster with his finger, opening him up. 

“I’ll be careful with you,” Obi-Wan said intently. “It’ll feel good, I promise, I promise you.” Vader whined as another finger slid inside him beside the first, stretching him out in a new way he’d never tried on his own, why would he think that this would feel this good?  

Obi-Wan rummaged around in a leather pouch on his belt, and then exhaled with relief. His fingers began to move faster, and he murmured, “So good, you’re so good.”

So good. 

Vader whined and nodded, as much as he could with his forehead still pressed against the wall. He wanted to be good for him, being good felt so good. “Thank… thank you...” 

In reply, Obi-Wan pushed inside as far as he could with his two fingers and pressed down, rubbing against something that made Vader whine loudly and rock his hips back with surprise. The sensation was so much more intense than he’d expected— what the absolute kriffing hell was that?

Obi-Wan pulled his fingers out, and Vader twisted around, snapping his head back in horror. He saw Obi-Wan smiling warmly at him, and he relaxed, still feeling aftershocks from his first orgasm. It had left him feeling slightly limp and shaky, so overstimulated, but it was so sweet. Obi-Wan looked him up and down and then turned to study the room. 

He nodded slightly, and held out a hand toward Vader. “Follow me, please, darling, I want to make this as easy as I can for you, make it as good as I can.”

Vader nodded hazily and took his hand. A small, crooked grin spread across Obi-Wan’s face, and he looked so happy and handsome— Vader had always thought the hologram of him was pretty. He hadn’t had many other people to look at for some years, the ones when Tyranus was too busy to train him. All those hours with Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan had no idea how much Vader had thought about him, how much he’d talked to him, threatening him with the same punishments he himself had received.

Today, Obi-Wan had seen him and wanted him at once, wanted him enough to do this, called him dear one. Dearest. Darling. 

He followed obediently as Obi-Wan guided him over to a large table made of the same blue crystal as the rest of the building. “Sit down, and lay back.” 

Vader followed orders immediately, sitting and relaxing back. His head clunked onto the table, and Obi-Wan smiled at him fondly, shaking his head slightly. Vader couldn’t help but return the smile. He let Obi-Wan pull his boots and pants off all the way, feeling slightly shy and exposed in only his tunic. 

Obi-Wan lifted one of Vader’s calves and put one of his legs over his shoulder, pushing the other out wide to the side. He squeezed it once in a ‘stay-here’ gesture, and Vader kept it in place. He watched curiously as Obi-Wan tore open a packet of bacta, coating his fingers, and then gasped as he slid them inside his tight entrance— his fingers were so thick, the stretch was sharp. 

He heard Obi-Wan murmur, “You’re so tense, I need you to relax,” and he bit his lip, waiting until the discomfort eased, and he relaxed little by little. Obi-Wan began moving his fingers slowly, his words a soothing flow of reassurance. “Just relax, dear one, I’ll take care of you.” Vader’s eyelids fluttered shut in pleasure, and Obi-Wan curled his fingers, stroking deliberately. “You’re taking my fingers so well.” 

Vader was getting well accustomed to the foreign sensation of having something in his ass, opening himself to it, accepting it. It felt so good, he hadn’t known it would. Obi-Wan abruptly pulled his fingers out, and Vader opened his eyes, scowling at him and growling in displeasure at stopping.

Obi-Wan laughed and the sound made Vader’s chest ache again with something he hadn’t felt before. Obi-Wan looked so happy and pleased, and there was so much desire on his face for Vader; it was totally inexplicable to him. He was so grateful.

“You are just so cute,” Obi-Wan said and grinned, unfastening his pants and laughing again at Vader’s expression. His hands paused before pulling out his cock, his face becoming more serious, checking in with Vader. “You’ve done well, do you want more?” 

More than anything.

Vader licked his lips and nodded, staring with fascination at Obi-Wan’s strong hands and wrists as he pushed down his pants to free his thick, hard cock and then began rubbing it with bacta. He’d never seen anyone else’s cock before. He was barely breathing as Obi-Wan lined himself up with his ass and then stopped still, asking again, “Do you, darling? I won’t if you don’t.” 

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Vader nodded again slowly, not sure what was causing the delay. Obi-Wan shook his head, frowning slightly. He rubbed the head of his cock against his ass and murmured, “I need to hear you say it, dearest.”

Oh.

Could he?

“Yes, please,” Vader said obediently, and somehow it was the easiest thing in the world. Nothing that would have held him back mattered to him at that moment— the only thing that mattered was getting Obi-Wan inside. “Please!” 

Obi-Wan smiled and exhaled, his shoulders dropping with what looked to Vader like a surprising amount of relief. He flexed his hips forward, and slid the tip of his cock through the tight muscle of Vader’s hole. The stretch was so much, so overwhelming, and Vader’s eyes and mouth opened wide. 

He made a small, incoherent noise of discomfort. He tried to breathe and adjust around it, but the sensation was so overwhelming. Obi-Wan was still for a long moment, letting him get used to it. He stroked Vader’s thigh encouragingly, and Vader looked up into his eyes, focusing instead on his steady, concerned gaze. After a long moment, the overstimulation retreated a bit, and he nodded slightly.  

Obi-Wan’s face was focused as he started to move his hips slowly, sliding the length of his cock gently inside, working himself further and further with each thrust. Vader made little, pathetic whimpers each time he fucked inside, louder and louder as Obi-Wan’s cock sunk deeper and deeper. He couldn’t help it.  

“Very good, you’re being so very good,” Obi-Wan murmured, and he tipped his head to the side to nip an affectionate bite to the leg resting over his shoulder. Vader whined loudly and nodded, his eyes rolling back at an especially sharp thrust. Obi-Wan hummed with encouragement as his hips began to roll forward smoothly. 

“You take my cock so well.” He sped up, beginning to fuck him in earnest. His voice was so rough and pleased. “Look at how well you take it, you feel so good.” 

“Kriff, yes, I didn’t know.” Vader’s eyes rolled back in his head. His hips were so open, and he was so relaxed into it, it was perfect. Obi-Wan’s cock slid in and out easily, and he was able to speed up and fuck him with more force. Vader’s cock was getting hard again, and he grabbed it to stroke it quickly.

Obi-Wan groaned with satisfaction and pulled both Vader’s legs over his shoulders, picking his hips up and tipping them slightly to the perfect angle. He fucked his cock in and out more quickly, their hips beginning to slap together. The focused expression on his face was the best thing Vader had ever seen, because he was focused on him.

The sound of Obi-Wan taking him filled the room, and it was so very different from the previous hum and crash of blades. Obi-Wan slowed down, and each deep thrust made Vader whine loudly. Obi-Wan groaned with satisfaction, looking down at Vader, his eyes flitting around his face, avidly taking in his expression. “Sweetheart, thank you, yes, so good for me.” 

Vader nodded happily, grabbing on to the edge of the table behind him as Obi-Wan began to fuck him quickly again. It was so good, so much. He closed his eyes and relaxed into it, his hand moving slowly on his cock. So good.

“What’s your name, darling?” Obi-Wan’s ragged voice made him startle, his eyes opening wide with confusion. Obi-Wan was looking at him so curiously and intensely. “I want to know, I want to call you your name, please.”

“Vader,” Vader said slowly, concerned and more than slightly hurt that he’d forgotten. “My name is Darth Vader.” 

Obi-Wan frowned at him, shaking his head, and fucked him harder. Vader’s eyes rolled back again and whined. Obi-Wan tried again, “Tell me your true name, sweet boy, I need to know.”

Sweet boy… Vader just shook his head, rolling it from side to side, his whole body jolting with the force of Obi-Wan’s thrusts. Vader was his true name. Vader was who he was. Vader was who he had to be.

Obi-Wan pulled his cock out all the way, and Vader cried out, seeking his eyes in desperation, “No, please, don’t!”

“Do you know your name?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at him seriously. “Do you have a name?”

“Yes,” Vader admitted, looking away. It didn’t matter. “I’m not supposed to use it.” 

He moaned loudly in relief as Obi-Wan slid his cock back inside and began fucking him deliberately and methodically, thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster. Felt so good.  

Obi-Wan asked tightly, “Why?”

“I got a new name,” Vader explained, and he could hardly breathe. “I left that name behind me.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and hummed encouragingly. “Tell it to me, sweetheart, I want to know, you’ve been so good for me.” 

Vader whined again and shook his head, less forcefully this time. He couldn’t…

Obi-Wan adjusted his hips to a new angle, fucking Vader slowly, rubbing against that perfect spot. “You’ve taken my cock so well, darling. I love how you feel around me, so tight and warm.” Vader whimpered, and Obi-Wan’s voice was so low and persuasive. “Please, please tell me.” 

Vader panted but did not speak. He couldn’t!

Obi-Wan pulled out again, and Vader almost sobbed. “No, don’t stop!”

“Say your name,” Obi-Wan said, no room for debate. “Who are you?” He brushed the head of his cock against his entrance teasingly. “Tell me.”

“Anakin,” Vader gasped the forbidden syllables. “My name is Anakin Skywalker.”

“Thank you, darling.” Obi-Wan thrust in hard, fucking him again, and it felt so good. He was looking down at Vader with such an open expression, it made him feel so vulnerable, cut open and exposed. “Dearest, my sweet one. Thank you, Anakin.” 

Vader whined loudly at the sound of his name— someone saying it to him for the first time in years ripped something open deep inside. He was immediately overwhelmed with emotion, his entire world felt like it was coming apart.

Anakin.

Obi-Wan began to stroke his cock. “Do you think you could come again, Anakin?” Vader whined so loudly, the edge coming closer and closer. Obi-Wan’s cock felt so good inside him, his strong hand on his cock was so good. “Do you think you could come while I fuck you, Anakin?” 

Vader nodded quickly, his eyes squeezed closed. Obi-Wan’s voice was so tight. “I’m close too, Anakin, you feel so good.” He squeezed and twisted Vader’s cock and fucked him rapidly, their hips slapping loudly in the echoey room. “I’m going to fill you up with my come, do you want me to come in your perfect ass, Anakin?”

Vader cried out and came again, coating his stomach and chest, making a mess, his eyes rolled back. It felt like he was getting put back together into something different. His name was burning through him brightly, bringing with it something like hope. 

Obi-Wan thrust his cock inside one last time and came too. He groaned loudly, his head curling forward as his orgasm washed through him. The sound of Obi-Wan’s pleasure made Vader whimper, full of pride and disbelief. He made Obi-Wan come. There was a light, warm feeling in his chest, and he was smiling without realizing it. 

He was happy. He couldn’t remember the last time…

Obi-Wan sighed and pulled out, watching for a moment as his come slid out after. He used one of his tabards to clean Vader up, and then he helped him back into his pants. Vader’s brain was still offline, and it felt like he was floating. As the minutes passed, his awareness returned more and more, and the dread of consequences began to grow. Tyranus was going to kill him.

“You’re coming back with me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said abruptly, breaking the hush. He looked at Vader seriously, and Vader let himself get caught and held by his gaze. “I won’t let you go back.” He sounded protective, like he cared so much.  

“Okay,” Vader said, slightly anxious. “Okay, Master.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, taken aback.

The beautiful young Sith looked at him with wide eyes. They were such a lovely shade of blue, and they had been since he’d come on Obi-Wan’s cock. His presence in the Force had gentled in the aftermath of his orgasm, and he’d felt warm instead of icy, almost glowing with happiness and relief. He’d been so happy, it had been beautiful to see.

He licked his lips nervously, and his happiness began to sap away, replaced by a rising tide of anxiety. His lovely, melodic voice was soft and concerned. “I thought you weren’t letting me go back.”

Obi-Wan blinked, trying to process the false dichotomy of options. Was the only way he would get him away from the Sith to allow him to call him ‘Master?’ “I’m not, but…” 

He trailed off, watching Anakin’s vulnerable face fill with fear with a strange twist in his gut. All the small clues that something was awry were beginning to add up, and Obi-Wan didn’t like the result. Guilt began to prickle him, guilt and deep concern. He probably shouldn’t have fucked him. Something was wrong.

Now that his head was more clear, he just didn’t understand why or how Anakin had changed so much from the angry young man who had intently and viciously tried to kill him. It should have taken more than flirting to make him abandon his cause, unless he was desperate to leave already. He was certainly desperate for someone to take care of him, which doubtless meant somebody was hurting him, and he was running to the first safe place. 

Anakin bit his lip as Obi-Wan went quiet, and then looked down. His forehead creased with concern, and his presence in the Force was getting much less warm. It was tremulous with a growing cold storm of hurt and rejection. Obi-Wan felt an intense compulsion to take care of him, protect and comfort him. Nobody else was doing it, this darling boy, so lonely and hurt.

He stepped closer, moving back into Anakin’s personal space, and gentled his voice, resting a hand against Anakin’s arm and squeezing reassurance. “Don’t you want to be free of having a Master?”

“No Master?” Anakin said the words like they weren’t spoken in basic and he was just echoing back meaningless sounds. His breathing was becoming increasingly fast and shallow, all of the lassitude from the afterglow gone. He was getting tense and primed to flee, like a prey animal, but it simply didn’t make sense to Obi-Wan for him to be acting like prey instead of a predator. He had been a murderous, vicious Sith who tried to kill him not even half an hour ago. 

Obi-Wan’s feelings were growing increasingly intense and volatile too, and he realized that what he was sensing wasn’t just his own discomfort at his misconduct bubbling in his gut— he was picking up Anakin’s feelings radiating in the Force. He raised his eyebrows, distracted from the topic at hand. They weren’t connected by any kind of training bond, he shouldn’t know him well enough to have a clear sense of his feelings, not unless… 

“You really are quite powerful, aren’t you?”

Anakin’s face filled with a complicated flurry of emotions at the words. Obi-Wan had been mesmerized during their duel watching his thoughts flash across his face, all his feelings visible to see. He didn’t guard his expression at all, and Obi-Wan found it almost impossible to look away. It looked like pride was warring with fear. Why was he afraid? 

Anakin spoke carefully. “I know that I have a very high midichlorian count.”

Obi-Wan hummed and rested his hands on Anakin’s shoulders, unable to fight his urge to touch him, and soothe away his anxiety. It was like the Force was boiling and trembling with his fear. “I believe it, dear one. You might be as strong as Master Yoda.”

“The head of the Jedi?” Anakin asked quietly, desperately insecure. He was leaning into the contact of Obi-Wan’s hands, so clearly starved for touch. 

Obi-Wan squeezed tighter, deeply unhappy at the implications as to why Anakin felt that way. He hugged him tightly and pulled back, cupping his cheek. “Yes, my sweet boy. He’s the most powerful of all of us. You are so gifted, Anakin, you’re remarkable.”

“Oh,” Anakin said quietly, flushing with embarrassment, and the Force went warm as pride at his natural talent won out for a moment. He opened and closed his mouth, saying nothing. 

Obi-Wan just didn’t understand it. “Why aren’t you a Jedi?”

“Well…” Anakin said with a grimace, uncomfortable again. His eyes widened, and then he abruptly shoved Obi-Wan away with the Force, a desperate warning on his lips. “Look out!”

Obi-Wan stumbled back, confused for a fraction of a second before the crackling blades of two red lightsabers came spinning into his field of vision. A figure had dropped from above them, and Obi-Wan looked up, startled, to see a webbing of crystalline rafters. How had she snuck up on them? He’d been so distracted…

He recognized the tall, bald woman instantly, having fought Asajj Ventress several times so far during the war. She always escaped before capture, and it had driven him insane. It was like she’d been assigned to make his life specifically more difficult, always popping up across the galaxy. He drew his lightsaber and ignited the blade, noticing that Anakin had done the same.

Ventress looked between them for a moment, and then attacked Obi-Wan with a quick flurry of strikes. Obi-Wan let the Force flow through him to the best of his ability, his blue blade moving quickly through defensive forms to block her vicious jar’kai fighting style, her lightsabers almost a blur, humming and crackling with red light. 

Anakin attacked her undefended back, drawing her attention and forcing her to defend herself from them both at once. She flipped back and away, and Anakin used the movement to shove her even harder with the Force, smacking her back into the wall. He snarled, all his docility and sweetness long gone, eyes blazing gold. “What are you doing here?!”

Ventress sneered back at him, and Obi-Wan was astonished at the amount of hostility between the two darksiders. “Hello, puppy.” 

Anakin’s lip curled, and he attacked her fiercely. She danced back and away from him, using smooth defensive forms to protect herself from his meticulous bladework. Obi-Wan shook his head and reset his defensive stance, watching their combat carefully as it moved across the room, looking for the right opening to enter the fray. Right… now.

He leapt forward, flanking her and almost landing a disabling strike to her legs. She blocked him, and gave him an unimpressed look. “Nice try, my darling.”

“Ventress,” Obi-Wan said back, as neutrally as he could while straining with effort to keep up with her attack.  

Anakin gasped, affronted. He gave Obi-Wan a piercing look, and then glared at Ventress, the Force icy and sharp with his rage. “You know each other?”

Ventress smiled at him cruelly, and slipped away from them both, moving toward the stairs to gain superior ground. Anakin growled at her, and Obi-Wan had the clear sense in that moment that there was an extremely long and fraught history of hostility between the two. He didn’t like the expression on Anakin’s face at all. It was the face of Darth Vader.  

“Oh, did I not mention?” Ventress taunted Anakin with a malicious and coy tone. “I’ve met him before.” 

Anakin looked livid. Why was Anakin so angry about that? 

Obi-Wan shook off his growing confusion, taking advantage of Ventress’s focus being fixated on Anakin. He moved around the room to attempt flanking her again, watching and listening to their snarling intently. They fought like they’d sparred together frequently, and studied from the same Master. Who was it? Was it Dooku?

Ventress was breathing slightly harder, but her form remained strong. “You’re so easy, Vader. He’s flirted with me plenty but I didn’t open my legs like a schutta at first opportunity.” 

“Ventress!” Obi-Wan rebuked her sharply, drawing her attention, and almost allowing Anakin to stab her in the side. 

“What, my dear Obi-Wan?” Ventress said with her familiar, sinister tone— flirtation that sounded like a threat. She dodged Anakin’s second attack dismissively. “Don’t like how I’m speaking to your new little pet? You flirt with everyone you meet, how often do they bend over for you?”

Anakin’s rhythm was broken, and he backed up a step, looking between them quickly with growing hurt in his eyes. “Obi-Wan, do you really…”

Kriff. 

Ventress sneered and used Anakin’s lapse of attention to attack Obi-Wan again, her voice falsely sympathetic. “It’s his favorite distraction.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head quickly, defending himself, eyes flicking between the twin lightsabers attempting to cut him into pieces and Anakin’s increasingly devastated face. 

Kriff. 

“You’re different, Anakin. It wasn’t a ploy. I’m not…” He kicked Ventress in the stomach, and regained his stance, focusing on the fight to avoid the lethal consequences to his distraction. “I’m not usually seduced back.” 

Anakin’s lip pouted, and the Force trembled. He spun his lightsaber in an agitated way, beginning to pace. “I didn’t seduce you.” 

“Not intentionally,” Obi-Wan said quickly, trying to focus on his feet as Ventress pushed him backward up a wide, central staircase. He couldn’t trip and die, but also he couldn’t lose Anakin. He needed to explain before Anakin got the wrong idea. “I really wanted you, wanted you for real, for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”  Anakin’s face was becoming so stormy, his eyes full of pain and darkness, glimmering with emotion, voice was slightly rough as if signaling oncoming tears. “Because you could?”

“Not at all!” Obi-Wan said quickly, loudly, forcefully, and finally kicked Ventress back down the stairs, giving Anakin his full attention. “Because you're very attractive, very beautiful, Anakin, very good with a lightsaber, and I… I wanted to take care of you!” 

Anakin sniffed, turning slightly pink with the praise, but still wary and sad. He had no trust at all that anyone actually wanted him. He was so ready to believe that he’d been used. Obi-Wan’s heart ached.

“Pretty words,” Ventress laughed, circling around to give Anakin a pitying look, her voice tremendously unkind. “You’re just a notch in his belt.”

“That is not true!” Obi-Wan said emphatically. “Don’t listen to her, Anakin!”

Ventress smiled with teeth, spinning her lightsabers into a defensive position and catching her breath. Her eyes were fixed on Anakin, and her face was full of so much terrible knowledge. “How does it feel for it to mean so much less to him than it does to you? Does it make you angry?”

“Shut up,” Anakin growled, spinning his blade back around to an offensive position and attacking her. Obi-Wan watched Anakin’s lovely face contort with loathing at her again, his strikes aggressive and deadly. “You don’t know anything about how I feel.”

“I wish,” Ventress sneered. “You think Dooku is unaware of your fixation on Kenobi? He encouraged it and now has made it my problem.”  

Fixation on Kenobi?

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to hold back from the fight, looking at Anakin for an explanation. “Fixation?” 

Anakin studiously ignored him, glaring at Ventress as he pursued her, monopolizing her attention with his attack— icy, murderous, and intent. “So this assignment was a test? He sent you here to kill me if I didn’t kill him?”

“I wish,” Ventress said again, deeply resentful. She kicked him back and flipped away again, moving back toward Obi-Wan. Clearly Anakin was not her assigned target. Is this why she’d been dogging his steps for months? Because Anakin was fixated on him? Why in all Sith hells would he…?  

“Then what”— Anakin snarled at her, attacking her back, not letting her escape, their blades crashing and separating —“are you doing here?” 

Ventress’s voice was strained with effort. “I was ordered to intervene and finish the task when you inevitably failed to do it. Your obsession with him is a distraction.”

Obsession…? How was… why? 

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked slowly.

“Anakin?” Ventress mocked him, using an unkind imitation of Obi-Wan’s accent. 

It drove Anakin into a frenzy, his wrath spilling into the Force like an icy torrent, his lightsaber moving faster than the eye could really track. “You don’t get to say that name!” 

Ventress escaped his onslaught, but he didn’t let her go far. He reached out with the Force, holding her in place and then lifting her from the ground. The dark side lashed and coiled, and her lightsabers dropped from her hands as she scrambled at the intangible hold on her neck, struggling vainly for air.  

Obi-Wan watched blankly for several heartbeats, a lag in processing what he was seeing. She gasped and choked, and Obi-Wan blinked back into reality. “Anakin!”

Anakin ignored him, and squeezed his fingers closer together, intensifying his hold on her neck and making her turn almost purple. Her struggle against suffocation was growing weaker and weaker, and Obi-Wan felt a spike of panic. “Anakin, no! Stop!”

Anakin’s expression was contorted by loathing, his eyes glowing red-gold as the dark side flowed from his fingers. Obi-Wan swallowed and deactivated his lightsaber, mustering his courage, and hastened to his side, reaching out for his arm and grabbing it gently. “Please, darling, don’t kill her.” 

Anakin’s voice was sharp as an assassin’s blade. “You don’t know what she’s done!” 

Obi-Wan could clearly hear her dying, and his fear increased. He couldn’t let Anakin do this, he was so far in the dark side, he needed to come back out, back to being Anakin, blue-eyed and sweet. He squeezed Anakin’s arm harder, knuckles almost going white. “We should arrest her, and bring her for trial and Republic justice. Please, Anakin. Let me arrest her!” 

“Oh,” Anakin said, like the idea had never occurred to him before. His jaw clenched and released, and then he dropped her to the ground. 

“Good,” Obi-Wan said softly with relief, stroking his arm, and then pressing a kiss to his cheek, murmuring in his ear. “Very good, Anakin. Thank you.”

Anakin bit his lip again and nodded, shivering slightly. Obi-Wan reached out with his feelings and tugged Ventress’s lightsabers to his hands, clipping them to his belt and disarming her, even though she appeared in no condition to use them. 

She was still laying where she’d fallen, instead of slipping away and escaping like usual. She was breathing heavily and rubbing her neck, looking between them with disgust. Her voice was rough from the strain of choking. “Pathetic.” 

Anakin lunged forward toward her, his lightsaber raised menacingly. Obi-Wan grabbed the back of his tunic, tugging him back, and shot her a dirty look. “Do be quiet, Ventress. Your words are not helpful.”

She sneered at him, catching her breath. “I’m not trying to be.” 

Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s arm, warning him to stay where he was, and moved forward. He pulled his binders from the pouch on his belt, pulling Ventress up and cuffing her arms behind her back, keeping a firm hold on them.

“She’s just jealous,” Anakin huffed, sullenly watching Obi-Wan manhandle her. “She always has been.” She sneered at that, and again Obi-Wan was struck by the years that they must have known each other. Anakin taunted her again, and it sounded like something he’d said a thousand times before. “He’ll never make you his apprentice. You are weak.”

“You’re the weak one,” she snapped. “One smile and you—”

“Stop,” Obi-Wan ordered her, tugging sharply on her wrists. He didn’t have time for this. His concern for his men had been bubbling, his guilt growing for giving into his desire to fuck Anakin instead of protecting this troops first. 

He was a General, responsible for their lives. He couldn’t act like the Knight he had been once, all those chaotic missions with Quinlan, bad decisions woven through them all. Qui-Gon had died, everything had gone wrong, he’d barely kept it together. He was doing better, he had to do better.  

He pulled out his comlink and tried to reach Cody to check in, but their communications were still being jammed. He shot Anakin a grim look. “Is anything happening back on base?”

Anakin checked the time, and winced. “Yes, it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?” Obi-Wan asked dangerously. 

“To stop it,” Anakin shrugged awkwardly. “I paid off a clone to betray you.”

“Who?” Obi-Wan gaped. Ventress wiggled in his hold, testing his attention, and he tightened his grip. “A clone?”

“He said his name was Slick,” Anakin shrugged again. “He wanted to leave.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan exhaled hard. The clones were modified and indoctrinated to have loyalty to the Jedi and the Republic, but were still able to turn traitor? What about the conditioning that the Kaminoans had talked about? This was doubtlessly a good sign for the clones’ independence, but it was a potentially terrible thing for the G.A.R.…

Anakin continued explaining himself, a mix of apologetic and anxious. “He should’ve blown up the landing pads and the weapons store by now if he’s following the plan. We’ve…” he swallowed and corrected himself, “… the Separatists have a new blockade up and reinforcements landing. You’re…” he did it again, eyes full of concern. At least he hadn’t abandoned the idea of coming with Obi-Wan, he hadn’t lost him. “We’re cut off and disarmed.”

Obi-Wan grimaced at that. “Can you call off the attack?”

“Good luck,” Ventress laughed, and squirmed again. Obi-Wan kept her still, not very gently. She went limp, and then tugged hard. He hissed with frustration, and she laughed as she almost got away. “Dooku knows everything that happened here.”

“Because you reported it,” Anakin spat, coming closer and closer. His eyes were still gold, his anger was still bubbling. He lifted his lightsaber, pointing the humming blade at her throat.

She stopped struggling and shrugged casually. “Had to do something other than watch you get fucked.”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan said sharply. He gave Anakin a warning look, eyes flicking between him and the threatening red blade with concern. “Ignore her, please.”

Anakin scowled at him, rotating his wrist, the blade moving closer, centimeter by centimeter. “Why should I?”

Why should he? He really needed someone to hold his leash, didn’t he…

Obi-Wan swallowed, uneasily coming to terms with what he had to do in order to bring him back to the light. “Because I’m asking you to, dear one.”

Anakin made a sullen face, and Ventress made a low noise of discomfort as the tip of the blade came close enough to the skin of her neck to hurt. His voice was so sulky. “I don’t actually have to listen to you. I want her dead.”

Obi-Wan sought eye contact, and raised his eyebrows, trying to make Anakin aware of the role that he’d been so ready to give him. “Didn’t you call me your Master?”

Anakin’s bottom lip pouted, but the blade withdrew enough that Ventress exhaled with relief. “You said you weren’t.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head quickly, tightening his hold on Ventress’s wrists in anticipation of another escape attempt. “I asked if you didn’t want to be free, Anakin. I didn’t actually decline the position.”

“Oh,” Anakin took a shaky breath, and lowered his arm, the red blade humming down at his side. He looked like the world made just a little bit more sense. “So you are?”

“Only if you want me to be. It’s very important to me that you don’t feel like you have to,” Obi-Wan said emphatically. They needed to move, they should have this conversation later…

“I need…” Anakin dipped his head bashfully, and his anxiety bubbled. “I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said fondly, and began to tug Ventress back down the stairs toward the main entrance of the building and his speeder bike. “I’ll let you in on a secret. We all feel that way.”

Anakin tagged along at his heels, his lightsaber finally inactive and back on his belt. He made a low unhappy sound of disagreement at Obi-Wan's assertion. “I’ve only left Serenno for missions for years. That's all I know how to do.” Missions… assassinations? Did he think killing was all that he was good for? It was so demonstrably untrue that it was almost comical. 

Obi-Wan huffed a humorless laugh, thinking of the predicament that his troops had been placed into by Anakin’s machinations. “You did very well planning this invasion.”

“Really?” Anakin looked so grateful for the praise. He was so excited, almost trembling, like he’d been desperate to explain this to anyone, but wasn’t in the habit of talking. Sweet boy, so lonely. “I like machines. I like repairing droids. They’re systems that make sense. I looked at it like a system.”

Obi-Wan gave him a warm smile, feeling a swell of fondness for him at that moment, despite the devastating impact of his intelligence. “You did a very good job. I’m impressed. You really cornered us.”

Anakin grinned, and his smile was so wide and bright, his teeth flashing white. The Force was warm with his disbelief and excitement. “Thank you, Master.”

“This is nauseating,” Ventress complained. “I think I would prefer death.”

Anakin’s smile faded, and Obi-Wan tugged on her wrists with frustration. It was like black rain clouds rolling in front of lovely spring sunshine. He rebuked her sharply. “Be quiet.”

“Why?” She said disdainfully, tossing him an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “You’re not going to kill me.”

Anakin swooped closer, looming over her, hissing a threat. “Doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

“Anakin, my sweet boy,” Obi-Wan said quickly, pushing Ventress forward faster, separating them as much as possible. “We don’t harm unarmed prisoners. That is a war crime.”

“War crime?” Anakin sounded lost again, following after him. 

Obi-Wan nodded, explaining carefully, “There are rules about who can be hurt and when. It’s called the Yavin Code, established at the Yavin Convention. Haven’t you heard of it before?”

Anakin shrugged, and he sounded slightly annoyed. “No.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan sighed, and tried again to prevent Ventress from slipping out of his hands. “Ventress is in a protected category right now.”

Anakin made a face like his words carried a bad smell. “Protected.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. “Protected. We need to get her in a cell back on base.”

Anakin stopped still, and Obi-Wan tipped his head to the side with a questioning look.  Anakin gestured vaguely in the direction of the base. “That’s miles away, and there’s an entire army landing outside around us.”

Obi-Wan made a face. How would they get there quickly, if they couldn’t drive his speeder bike? Could they fly somehow? He considered the airhook repulsorcrafts used by battle droids for patrol. “Can you get us STAPs?”

Anakin hummed thoughtfully, looking back the way they came up the stairs. “Probably, yeah, but you’re not going to be able to carry her on one.” He studied Ventress and then seemed inspired by an idea. He looked at Obi-Wan hopefully. “We should give her lightsabers back, and then we can kill her instead.”

“That’s not…” Obi-Wan sighed, feeling a headache coming on. “That’s not how it works.”

“You should try,” Ventress said encouragingly.

Anakin sneered at her. “I would love to.”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan sighed again, trying to solve the problem. “What about a tank, can you get us a tank?”

“Maybe,” Anakin said thoughtfully. “I might—” His words were cut off by a loud crunching sound of metal destroying crystal, and he hurried to the window to investigate. He shot Obi-Wan a worried look. “It’s a spider droid climbing the building. It’s big.”

“Time to go,” Obi-Wan said, resigned, and sped up, marching Ventress forward more quickly. She began dragging her feet. He twisted with alarm when he heard Anakin’s lightsaber ignite, giving him an admonishing look. “Anakin, we talked about this.”

“I won’t kill her, but she’s slowing us down on purpose.” He poked the humming blade at her back, making her twist out of the way. “Move faster.”

“Darling,” Obi-Wan said pointedly, keeping his grip on her cuffs with extreme difficulty. “You’re not helping.”

“Fine,” Anakin said sullenly, lowering his blade, but not retracting it. 

Ventress took advantage of their distraction and threw her entire body weight back, slamming the back of her head into Obi-Wan’s face, and he heard his nose crack, pain blooming. He swore loudly, and heard Anakin shout. It wasn’t the first time he’d broken his nose, but kriff did it hurt every single time.  

Ventress used his instinctive loosening of his grip to escape again, slipping out of his grip with the Force and sprinting away. Obi-Wan’s hands jumped to his belt, grabbing and holding her lightsabers in place as she tried to summon them. If she was truly getting away, she was getting away unarmed. 

Anakin snarled at her back and then retracted his lightsaber. “She’s a coward. She always runs.”

Obi-Wan carefully pinched his nose, making sure it was straight. It felt more like a crack than a true break, and he was grateful for that. The pain was throbbing, but he used a meditative technique to subordinate that sensation to other, more pressing ones. The taste of blood at least was overriding the slightly stale taste of his mouth after licking and swallowing Anakin’s precome, so there were some benefits. 

He turned back toward the window, and gave Anakin a tired look. “STAPs then?”

Anakin’s eyes brightened. “I love those.” 

They hurried to the window and Anakin slashed a large cross, kicking it out with Force-assisted strength, and the transparisteel shattered and fell away. They leapt out and attacked the large spider droid, cutting it free from the building with their lightsabers. Obi-Wan couldn’t believe how well they fought together, in sync without words. The resulting commotion was thankfully enough to lure the airborne patrol droids closer, and they kicked the droids off, stealing their repulsorcrafts and riding them quickly back to the Republic base. 

As they flew across the devastated city, Obi-Wan felt increasingly sick with dread taking in the scale of the Separatist reinforcements landing and mustering into battle formation. How were they going to survive this? What was going to happen if no reinforcements came? Would it be a massacre? He could see the damage to the base ahead, the smoke circling up to the sky, and his gut churned with guilt again. He shouldn’t have left his troopers alone.

They landed, and Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to sense the general mood of the base. It was mostly anxiety and uncertainty about the upcoming battle, but there was also a mix of horror and disbelief that it had been a brother who had done this to them— all of their lives were in a tremendous amount of danger from the Separatists, but the true threat had come from within. 

They saluted to attention as Obi-Wan passed, and it wasn’t long before Cody jogged up to him and began to fill him in on the extent of the damage. Anakin tagged along, looking around at everything with interest. Obi-Wan could tell that he was getting some curious glances, but everyone was distracted by the much more pressing tasks of clearing up the damage and preparing for battle the next day. 

Obi-Wan introduced Anakin to Cody, and he could tell that his Commander was skeptical about him picking up a defector, until Anakin began to give them abundant, useful intel about the oncoming attack. They were now both hunched over the holo table in the command center studying a map of the city and marking the places where the droids were mustering, comparing Anakin’s memory with the reports being run back from the scouts— the fact that their coms were jammed was incredibly unhelpful. 

Obi-Wan was beyond grateful for Anakin’s information. He didn’t like to imagine how it would have been to wake up in the morning to discover the true shape of the C.I.S. battle plan. Their sense of security in knowing that at least the heavy cannon had survived, and would be able to keep the droids from advancing on the base, would’ve been absolutely crushed by the fact that the Separatist reinforcements had brought an energy shield.

Anakin shifted uncomfortably, and Obi-Wan could sense a mild disturbance in the Force. He guessed that the shield might have been Anakin’s idea in the first place, and now it was the thing that might kill them all. His lips pursed stubbornly and he shifted the large holomap of the capital city of Christophsis to zoom in on where the shield was being stored. “We have to take it out before they attack, Master.”

Obi-Wan tried to nod agreement, but was slightly distracted as Kix insisted on looking at his nose, holding his head still as he carefully cleaned the skin and applied the bacta plaster. The drying blood on Obi-Wan’s face and clothes had been enough to almost agitate the usually level-headed medic, despite all his protests that he was fine. He could use something for a headache, but he had to stay sharp. “Why aren’t they attacking us already?”

Anakin zoomed out to study the positions of the droid reinforcements, his expression pensive. “Unloading droids and putting them in marching order always takes much longer than it seems like it should, especially when there are this many of them. They aren’t very smart, and don’t communicate very well unless they’re controlled by a single control ship, and these are not. I think we have many hours, probably until daylight, until they’re ready to attack.”

“Who’s in charge with you gone? Ventress?”

“No,” Anakin shook his head with a sneer at the mention of her name. “She just does errands for Tyranus. General Loathsom was going to take over from me after I… anyway.”

Obi-Wan found it extremely charming that Anakin was unwilling to admit to trying to kill him, and then Anakin’s words really processed. He blinked, a ringing sound in his ears. “Tyranus?”

“Darth Tyranus,” Anakin said, a haunted expression flickering briefly across his face. “You know, Dooku?”

“Dooku is Tyranus?” Obi-Wan said, voice much louder than he intended. He couldn’t believe it.

The implications spiraled out in his mind like lightning, electric and terrible. Jango Fett was recruited by a man named Tyranus, so Dooku had recruited the clone template. Dooku created the Republic’s army. Dooku was leading the Separatist movement. Had he engineered this entire war?

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked curiously. “What’s wrong, Master?”

Obi-Wan looked at Cody, one of the army designed by a Sith, and then swallowed hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood. He refocused on the immediate problem. He had to survive long enough to tell the Jedi Council about the clones. “Will he be near his shield?”

“Who, Loathsom? Maybe…” Anakin looked skeptical. “Are you going to try to make me arrest him too? It’s going to make it much more difficult to sneak back if we have to bring him. He’s Kerkoiden, so he’s not really large or anything, but it would still be a hassle trying to evade all the droid patrols.”

Obi-Wan hummed with disappointment. “You’re probably right. It wouldn’t be practical to try to force a surrender that way.”

“I could just kill him?” Anakin asked neutrally, like it was just another option, tipping his head to the side. “That would confuse the droids tomorrow morning, and buy us more time.”

Obi-Wan almost pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off his already pounding headache, and then remembered Kix’s stern injunction to leave the bacta patch alone. He rubbed his temples instead. “No, Anakin. We don’t kill our enemies in their sleep.”

“War crime?”

Obi-Wan gave him a disbelieving look. “What do you think?”

“We could wake him up first.” Anakin looked to Cody like he might back him up, but Cody just looked impassively at Obi-Wan, as if to say, This is your mess, General. Anakin threw up his hands with annoyance. “It would be so easy, he’s an idiot!”

“Ease is not the primary criterion.” Obi-Wan’s voice was more waspish than he had intended, his head throbbing with pain. He sighed and moderated his tone. “We aren’t going to kill him, Anakin. We’re going to destroy the shield, and then use the heavy cannon to hold their line back until our fleet breaks the blockade and we get reinforcements.”

“Fine,” Anakin surrendered the point, his shoulders dropping as his excitement flagged. “I guess he’s not a very good General anyway. He might even make things worse by being alive.”

“Great,” Obi-Wan said tiredly. He wanted the taste of blood out of his mouth. “I need to use the ‘fresher and eat something, and then we can leave to deal with the shield. Everything under control here, Cody?” 

Cody nodded once, uncharacteristically frustrated and embarrassed. Obi-Wan knew that he was gutted by the betrayal of one of the men under his command, and needed to focus on the problem of survival to cope. “I’ll go fill in the men, sir.”

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan said warmly.  “I’ll check in before we leave.”

Obi-Wan tipped his head to the side, inviting Anakin to follow him. He guided him through the narrow hallways toward his temporary quarters. It was a tiny room, but there was a private ‘fresher attached that was calling for Obi-Wan. He opened the door and gestured Anakin inside. “Through here.” 

Anakin followed him inside, and Obi-Wan closed the door behind them, turning on the lights with a wave and beginning to unfasten his belt. Anakin looked around the room curiously, at all the small bits of evidence of Obi-Wan’s occupation, and watched Obi-Wan pull off his boots and slightly bloody outer layer.

Obi-Wan felt slightly cornered— the room seemed even smaller with the two of them inside. Anakin took up a lot of space, both in his attention and in the Force. He pulled off his tunics and added them to a growing pile of laundry. He could always tell when it was taking too long to secure the planet, when he had enough laundry to need a hamper. He noticed that Anakin wasn't undressing at all. He'd just been fucked without protection, surely he wanted… “Don’t you want to get clean?”

Anakin ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I don’t have other clothes.”

“You can borrow some of mine,” Obi-Wan offered, but Anakin still hesitated, and his discomfort radiated in the Force. The clothes were clearly just an excuse. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Anakin flashed a smile, nervous camouflage for what was feeling more and more like panic in the Force. 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his bare chest, and gave Anakin a long, considering look. “If I’m your Master, you shouldn’t lie to me.” 

“I just…” Anakin trailed off and dipped his head, studying the floor intently.  

“You just what?” Obi-Wan waited for him to explain, but Anakin just looked more and more worried, fists clenched and posture guarded. Obi-Wan’s chest hurt to see him like this, and he tried gently to talk him through it. “Is there something about your body you don’t want me to see?” 

Anakin swallowed thickly, eyes darting up for a moment before looking back down. Obi-Wan sighed, and ran a hand through his beard. “You don’t have to show me, Anakin.”

“I don’t?” Anakin asked quietly, full of doubt. 

“I will never force you to do anything like that, dear one. I’m not here to hurt you. If showing me would hurt you, I don’t want you to do it.”

“Really?” Anakin’s eyes were wide, and beautifully blue. “You don’t?”

Obi-Wan stepped closer, and Anakin’s eyes dropped to his chest before looking back up with a blush. Obi-Wan squeezed his arm. “You know I like your body very much, but, more importantly, Anakin, I care about you. I’m your Master now, and if there’s something wrong, I want you to tell me.”

“I’ve just got some… some scars and stuff.” 

“You don’t want to show them to me? Why?” Anakin shrugged, and Obi-Wan tried to guess and help him communicate. “Do you think they’re ugly, and that I won’t like them?” 

Anakin nodded miserably, and Obi-Wan touched his face, stroking his thumb on his cheekbone in a soothing caress. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” 

Anakin pulled his face from Obi-Wan’s hand and stepped back. “Because I don’t want you to judge me!” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently, as if to a skittish animal and took a step forward, following after him. “Nothing about you can possibly be ugly, darling. Nothing. You’re very cute. Everywhere.”

“I’m missing one of my hands,” Anakin said miserably.  

Obi-Wan repressed the instinct to ask why, sensing that the topic would just make Anakin shut down completely. He reached slowly towards Anakin’s gloved hands instead, asking nonverbally to touch them. Anakin looked slightly sick, but he nodded and lifted his right hand. Obi-Wan took it, and felt that it was metal beneath his glove. He squeezed it very tightly, and then tipped up Anakin’s chin to look him in the eyes. “Anakin, dearest, there’s nothing wrong with this. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” 

Anakin’s eyes were shiny, his face so cautious. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said firmly. 

Anakin blinked, and his long eyelashes became wet and dark. He was so beautiful it was distracting, his eyes were so bright, his lips so pink. Obi-Wan slid his fingers from under his chin around his impossibly long neck to cup the back of his head, pulling him close and pressing a soft kiss against his full mouth. 

He pulled back before deepening the kiss, very aware that he needed to rinse his mouth out. He studied Anakin’s shy face and felt so fond of him. “You’re really very cute, Anakin.” 

“Master,” Anakin whined and blushed, the Force shimmering with his happiness. “I’m not.” 

“You really are.” Obi-Wan disagreed with him kindly, and gave him an encouraging smile. “Let me see you, sweetheart. You don’t have to, but I want you to show me.”

“Okay,” Anakin whispered and swallowed thickly, his hands moving absently to his belt. “Okay.” 

Obi-Wan nodded with approval, and he helped Anakin take off black tunics, revealing a strong chest, with wide shoulders and soft golden skin. His right arm had been severed and replaced with a very advanced looking prosthesis below the elbow. It was a clean cut that surely had come from a lightsaber amputating his limb, but Obi-Wan’s attention was caught and fixated on Anakin’s skin, not his arm. 

He had so many faint, narrow scars— many white with age, but quite a few were much less faint and much more recent. Obi-Wan lightly traced an especially vivid one on his left bicep that appeared to be barely finished healing, and frowned with confusion and disapproval. Where was his bacta? Why hadn’t they been treated properly?  

Anakin flinched slightly at the brushing contact, less from pain than from surprise. Obi-Wan finally placed the type of injury and looked up at Anakin’s face with a spike of alarm. “These are welts from a training lightsaber turned up far too high.” 

“Yes,” Anakin said so quietly, it was more like he was mouthing the word than really talking.

“Did Dooku do this to you?” Obi-Wan asked unhappily, and Anakin nodded. There was a sharp twist in the Force of fear, shame, pain— the echo of a thousand memories that were roughly shoved down. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, his jaw tight and his voice was becoming strained. “Why?”

“It was just training…” Anakin mumbled, looking away. “He’d turn up the power every time until I got it right.” 

“What?” Obi-Wan felt angry, more angry in that moment than he could remember feeling in many years. Some of those scars were so old as to be almost invisible. How long had Dooku been torturing him? How small had he been when they’d begun? How could anybody do that to a child?  

Anakin’s eyes went wide, as though he could feel Obi-Wan’s reaction, but didn’t really believe someone would feel anger on his behalf. “I didn’t like it.” 

“No,” Obi-Wan said, cupping and stroking his face, feeling slightly desperate. “You wouldn’t have. Did it happen often?”

Anakin pressed his face into Obi-Wan’s hand. “If he thought I was wasting his time.” 

“Which was frequently?” Obi-Wan felt another spike of a powerful, dangerous emotion that he tried to acknowledge and release. Yoda’s Padawan. Qui-Gon’s Master. He did this. How could he?

“I mean…” Anakin waved his hand vaguely. “When he was there, yeah. Sometimes he would leave me alone for months in between training though. Once he left for a year.”

“What?” Obi-Wan pulled back, looking at him closely. “Totally alone? How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Anakin’s expression cleared slightly, brightening. “But I have droids! I wasn’t totally alone. I made some, and improved others. I trained with them…” He blushed and trailed off, and his bubbling embarrassment made Obi-Wan curious. 

“What about training makes you so embarrassed?”

“Nothing!” Anakin shook his head quickly, the Force clearing as he crushed his emotions and hid them away. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Yes, you are.” Obi-Wan said speculatively, making Anakin shift uncomfortably under his close observation. What didn’t he want to tell him about his training? What could be embarrassing for Obi-Wan to know? Was it something about him? “Does this have anything to do with what Ventress was talking about?” 

“Which part?” Anakin said evasively.  

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “Dooku encouraging you to become fixated on me.” 

“That… um…”

“You’re even more embarrassed now.” Obi-Wan shook his head, stroking his arm. “Darling, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just don’t understand. Will you tell me? You don’t have to.” 

Anakin cleared his throat, his cheeks crimson, his eyes down. “I just had a training program.”

“Of me?” Obi-Wan asked, prompting him gently. 

“When you killed Darth Maul.” 

“Is that…” Obi-Wan felt slightly sick. “Is that the name of the Sith I fought? I never knew it.” 

Anakin nodded miserably. “He was like my brother.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said, his memories of Naboo flashing by, the frustration of being trapped behind red gates, the agony of losing Qui-Gon, the sickening feeling of cutting someone in half and watching the parts fall away into a pit. 

“He attacked you,” Anakin said, as if it were an acceptable reason for Obi-Wan to have killed someone he had clearly cared about. “I wanted revenge since I was 10, but…” 

Obi-Wan frowned, distracted. “How old are you?”

“20… maybe 21? I don’t… I don’t know when my birthday is.” 

“What?” Obi-Wan asked blankly. “Why don’t you know?”

“Don’t we have to hurry to bring down the shield?” Anakin looked extremely uncomfortable, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of regret for pushing him.

“We do,” he agreed easily, letting him evade the question for now. He tugged on Anakin’s metal hand, grabbing and pulling gently. “Come get clean with me.”

Anakin exhaled hard with relief and nodded, following Obi-Wan into the tiny ‘fresher. Obi-Wan pointed toward the small sonic shower stall with his head. “You can use it first, I’d like to clean my teeth.”

Anakin shrugged and bent to examine the controls. Obi-Wan turned away to brush his teeth, doing his very best to ignore as Anakin stepped out of his pants. He didn’t need to look. They were just getting clean, and then they were going on a mission. He was still in a refractory period from fucking him and coming inside him. All good reasons to keep his eyes forward.

He gave Anakin’s nude body a lingering sideways look anyway. He was checking for more injuries he hadn’t noticed, that was all. Just checking to see if he was all right. He had many more welts on his arms, chest, and back, than his long legs. He was so lanky— strong, but not bulky. Graceful, that was the word for it. 

His skin was so beautiful, the way his strong muscles shifted smoothly beneath the golden surface. He looked so soft, he’d felt so soft beneath Obi-Wan’s hands, around his cock. Anakin stepped into the sonic, and Obi-Wan tracked the motion of his ass. His cock twitched, and refractory period be damned, he could probably fuck him then and there, but he had a mission…

He shook his head slightly to clear it, making eye contact with himself in the tiny mirror and rebuking himself. He felt more than slightly voyeuristic, and went instead to get Anakin clean underclothes and himself fresh clothing instead of waiting in the ‘fresher. 

He came back and switched places with Anakin, who scurried out as Obi-Wan began stripping out of his pants. Obi-Wan smiled slightly to himself, amused and endlessly endeared by Anakin’s moments of shyness. He quickly used the sonic and put on fresh clothes, feeling more and more like himself again afterward. 

He could sense Anakin’s eyes on his back as he quickly brushed his hair and beard. His curiosity had been eating at him. He didn’t want Anakin to feel cornered, but he deeply wanted to know more about his past. He kept his face away, not looking at him and making him feel observed. “Are you comfortable telling me why you don’t know your birthday?”

Anakin was quiet for long enough that Obi-Wan guessed that he wouldn’t answer. He was considering apologizing for asking when Anakin spoke quickly, breaking the silence. “I was born a slave. It’s why I’m not a Jedi. You asked earlier. I belonged to a Hutt.” 

Obi-Wan turned to look at him, concerned by the harsh, flat sound of his voice. “Anakin…” 

Anakin was pulling on his boots, an intense scowl on his face as he looked down. “I don’t remember much of it. Me and my… I was sold to Darth Plagueis when I was like three or four.” 

“Who’s that?”

Anakin sneered, and pushed his hair off his forehead. “He was the Sith Master before Darth Sidious. He was a Muun who liked to do science projects. Sidious and I…” Anakin licked his lips and swallowed before trying again. “Sidious killed him, and he sent me to live with Dooku. He didn’t want to bother training me himself. He's really busy, I think. I’m supposed to kill Dooku when I’m ready to take over being his Apprentice.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, slightly taken aback, and Anakin shrugged far too casually.

“It’s the way of the Sith. Dooku knows that, and it’s why he didn’t like me very much. Or maybe he just doesn’t like me for some other reason. I don’t know. He told me I was unworthy a lot, which I figured meant he knew I was supposed to replace him. If he were a good Sith, he would kill Sidious himself, but he’s an idiot who isn’t as clever as Sidious or as powerful.” 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan said thickly, and he wanted to find and force Sidious to be accountable for his crimes. What kind of monster would give a boy to be trained by a man who despised him as a sign of his own weakness, inferiority, and disposability? It was all in order to make the boy vicious and cruel too, but it didn’t work, did it, Sidious? The meaner you were to him, the sweeter he became, isn’t that it? What would being sweet to him do? Make him mean? 

No, it wouldn’t, Obi-Wan decided. He wouldn’t let it.  

He cupped his face and gently kissed his forehead. “Thank you for telling me. You are not unworthy, Anakin. Coming with me means you’re more worthy than any other Sith.” 

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” Anakin’s face crumpled. “I’ve done terrible things.” 

“Sweet boy…” Obi-Wan sighed. “I am many things, but stupid isn’t actually one of them. I know that.” 

Anakin sniffed. “Why aren’t you putting me in a cell?” 

“For two reasons. First, you’re a defector about to help me infiltrate enemy lines. That is the reason I am going to tell the Council, and it will not be a lie. You should have immunity for fighting at my side.” 

“And the second reason?” 

Obi-Wan smiled at him. “I don't want to. I don’t think you belong there, and you’re my apprentice, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Anakin said desperately, like it was all he wanted. “Master.” 

Obi-Wan kissed him, and he could taste his toothpaste in Anakin’s mouth. After several, perfect moments, he pulled back, Anakin made a sad little whine that almost made him abandon the plan to suck on his lip a little longer. However, they’d delayed long enough…

“We need to go.” 

“Right…” Anakin sighed. “Let’s go.” 

They slipped back onto the base as the sun was rising, the first rays hitting the blue crystal buildings and making them glow. Vader felt flushed with adrenaline, and almost unspeakably happy. He had fun working together with Obi-Wan. It was a new feeling, and it was addictive and sweet. 

They had flown part of the way to the shield on the STAPs they had acquired back at the Headquarters, and then traveled the rest of the way on foot to infiltrate deep into the heart of Separatist territory. Obi-Wan had taught him a few basic hand signs, and it was so easy to read him in the Force, that they were able to communicate and work together even without coms. 

Vader had never been trained to work with anyone else before, and collaborating felt satisfying and fun. Fighting droids, not people, was fun. He could use all of his skills, cut them down until there were piles of them, but it was all scrap metal, not people. It was like a game. 

Obi-Wan was so fun to watch as he fought with his liquid and clever bladework; he was so agile and strong, Vader could hardly focus sometimes on anything else. They made it through the crystalline streets together, working as a team, evading and disabling patrols, until they reached the place he had ordered the shield to be stored. So much fun.

Vader used his skill at slicing and his familiarity with the C.I.S. network to easily slice their way inside. He found and opened the large crate that contained the shield generator, and admired the advanced, expensive piece of technology. It had been interesting to tinker with before, and discover how it worked. Now he could sabotage it so thoroughly that it was completely and totally unfixable. 

Breaking the final servo had been so satisfying. It felt good to use the skills that he’d obtained on his own, not forced onto him by Dooku, like it was something uniquely his to get what he wanted, a victory that he’d earned with his hard work. Obi-Wan had praised him so much that he thought he was going to melt with embarrassment and happiness. Brilliant, such a clever boy, incredible work.

Obi-Wan smiled at him with satisfaction as they parked the STAPs on the destroyed landing pads inside the base. His hair was windblown, and his cheeks were pink from the wind, eyes shining in the morning light. Vader smiled back shyly, overwhelmed at having all of Obi-Wan’s attention focused on him. 

“Are you hungry? Do you need to sleep? We’ve been up all night.” 

Obi-Wan was taking care of him. 

Vader blushed, and turned to look at the base. His stomach rumbled, and so he answered honestly. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“Let’s eat,” Obi-Wan said warmly, and clapped Vader on the shoulder. “Really excellent work with the shield, Anakin. I’m impressed, you’re a very good slicer.”

“Thanks,” Vader whispered, smiling at the ground as they made their way inside. “I was bored a lot when I was younger, so I sliced my way into all kinds of things.”

He followed Obi-Wan through the hallways to the mess. It was a little strange eating in a room filled with so many clones. Vader wasn’t used to being around this many other people in general, and found it overwhelming. It was so loud and there were so many conversations were happening at once. It was slightly uncanny to be surrounded by so many identical faces with minor distinctions. 

He was grateful for the Force in that moment, because he was able to distinguish them quite clearly. Their presences were not identical in the Force at all, and he recognized Cody instantly when he came to check in with Obi-Wan. Vader was a bit intimidated by the trooper’s air of command— he seemed like the right person to ask if you needed something done right the first time.   

The food was not fantastic, and Vader guessed he was probably spoiled by the kitchens at Dooku’s palace on Serenno. The G.A.R. military rations were very far away from the delicious meals prepared by the palace staff. Vader had endured a lot there, but he knew that at least he always ate extremely well, so he grew tall, healthy, and strong— all of it was enough for him to endure the harsh training he was subjected to.

Obi-Wan ate beside him with delicate manners, and it made Vader shake his head. It reminded him of dinners with Lord Tyranus where he had been expected to use extremely formal etiquette. He messed it up a lot, no matter how many times he’d been instructed, it just never stuck. He hated fancy manners, but somehow when Obi-Wan used them, they seemed appropriate. Obi-Wan just should eat like that, it made sense.

Vader began to ask, “Master, what—” 

“General, there’s a shuttle,” a trooper said loudly, sliding to a stop at the end of the table. “We found a place for it to put down. It’s from the fleet, but the blockade isn’t broken yet. It must have slipped through.”

“Thank you, Waxer,” Obi-Wan said, standing up and straightening his tabards. “Hopefully, it’s reinforcements.”

Vader followed Obi-Wan as he strode out quickly beside the Lieutenant. He appreciated the unconscious command that was in Obi-Wan’s walk, full of the confidence that comes from being one of the most dangerous things in any room. He stroked his beard as he walked, and Vader could feel in the Force the concern and anticipation swirling around him.

Obi-Wan shot him a pointed look and a wave of telepathy, asking him to stop dipping into the boundaries of his mind. Vader sent a sense of apology back and focused on his Force signature. He never had to do this when he was alone, and it took a second to collect himself and close himself off enough that he wasn’t eavesdropping on Obi-Wan’s mood. 

Obi-Wan nodded confirmation that it had worked. “Well done, Anakin. That is not easy to do.” Vader felt the corners of his mouth tug up in a small, irrepressible smile at the praise.

They found the shuttle perched somewhat precariously on the uneven crystal on the ground just beyond the borders of the base. The ramp came down from the cargo bay, but the only thing that walked out was a young Togruta female wearing a lightsaber on her hip. Obi-Wan made a confused noise, and Vader frowned at him, looking between Obi-Wan and the youngling quickly with a question in his eyes. 

Obi-Wan shrugged at him, looking just as at a loss. He spoke cautiously as she approached. “Hello, young one. Welcome to Christophsis. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. Who are you?”

“Hi,” the tiny Togruta said a little shyly before squaring her shoulders. “My name is Ahsoka Tano, Master Yoda sent me. I'm the new Padawan learner.”

Obi-Wan was getting a Padawan?

“The what?” Obi-Wan sounded politely blank.

The youngling’s eyes widened, and then she bit her lip and hunched her shoulders slightly, as if preparing to take a blow. “Master Yoda assigned me”

Obi-Wan’s emotions suddenly were a writhing, tangled mess, and they were spilling out of his mind, so much so that Vader didn’t even have to reach out to feel them. He kept his tone light and friendly. “I was unaware I was being assigned a Padawan.” 

Obi-Wan really was getting a Padawan! 

Vader felt a swell of hate at the little youngling who was getting in the way of his place with Obi-Wan. How dare she? Obi-Wan was not available for other apprentices. He’d agreed to take on Vader first! He was his!

“Oh,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.” She looked over at Vader and then her eyes went wide. “Umm, Master Kenobi…?”

Obi-Wan followed her gaze and then sighed, stepping closer to Vader with his eyes full of an apology, pitching his voice down. “She is alarmed by your eyes, darling, and your presence in the Force. You need to calm down. I promise this will not interfere with your place with me.”

“Master Kenobi, who is that?” Ahsoka's voice was tentative.

Obi-Wan flashed her a strained, reassuring smile. “I will explain later.” 

Vader just scowled dubiously at them both. Obi-Wan gave him one last pointed look, and turned his attention back to the increasingly anxious youngling, and Vader hated her.

Obi-Wan’s voice was always so kriffing kind. “My confusion about the situation is not your fault, young one. I will talk to Yoda when we have coms back with the fleet. Until then, I will be your Master. Are reinforcements coming too?”

The youngling looked relieved at that confirmation, but she shook her head in answer to the question, explaining quickly, “I was told to tell you that you must get back to the Jedi Temple immediately. There's an emergency.”

Vader almost snarled, and he resented her immensely. Not even here to help, she was here to take him away! He couldn’t leave without Vader and go back to their kriffing Temple. He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere at all! 

Obi-Wan grimaced, crossing his arms across his chest and stroking his beard to hide his expression. It was almost difficult to hear him over the sound of explosions in the distance. “We're in a bit of an emergency here. Our communications have been a bit unreliable but we've been calling for help.”

Ahsoka shook her head helplessly. “Master Yoda hadn't heard from you so he sent me to deliver that message.”

Obi-Wan sighed with disappointment, turning a question into a flat statement of confirmation. “So they don't even know we're in trouble.” 

Ahsoka shook her head again, gesturing cautiously up to the sky and offering a suggestion. “Maybe you can relay a signal through the cruiser that just dropped me off?” 

“Right, we can do that.” Obi-Wan nodded, and uncrossed his arms, posture straightening as if to go immediately to do it. 

Vader watched sullenly, unease churning in his gut, exhaustion and resentment coiling together. Obi-Wan didn’t even look at Vader to see what he thought. Didn’t invite him. He’d been replaced. He needed to leave. He tipped his head back toward the base. “I’m going to go sleep. I am tired.”

Obi-Wan turned and studied him, a wrinkle between his brows as he focused on his face. “Are you sure?”

“It’s been a long day.” Vader said evasively, looking away, unable to maintain eye contact as he used the truth as a lie. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

Obi-Wan’s frown deepened, but he looked slightly resigned, as though he knew exactly what Vader was doing and was being forced to let it go for now. “Do you remember where my room is? You can sleep there. I need to talk to the Council about reinforcements.”

Vader nodded and backed away, trying to keep his cool. A hundred questions rested on his tongue, all going unasked. Was Obi-Wan going to ask about which apprentice he got to keep? Was he going to have two? Could Jedi even have two? Sith weren’t supposed to have two. He didn’t want to share! He finally really had something of his own and now it was gone and…

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan was extremely concerned and torn, looking over toward the shuttle where the Togruta was standing with an expectant expression, and back to Vader. “I will talk to you as soon as I can.”

“Sure,” Vader agreed, and turned to go. He needed to be gone. He tried to keep his feelings contained, and mostly became aware of just how much he was failing to be discreet in the Force.

“Anakin?”

Vader looked back over his shoulder. Obi-Wan was staring at him very intently, and the sincerity of his commitment was available to Vader in the Force. “I will be there soon.”

“Yes, Master,” Vader whispered, and felt a swell of sadness. 

He turned his face away and began to walk, feeling slightly stupid and blind. Never first priority. He made his way back through the base, and it was eerie— it was almost completely deserted, all the squads working to defend it. He found Obi-Wan’s room, and entered it, collapsing on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, counting the squares numbly. Replaced.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there until his old C.I.S. comlink lit up on his belt. He picked it up and looked at it warily, wondering who exactly was trying to reach him. Darth Tyranus? Should he answer? He felt a shudder of tightness on his throat, his breathing was threatened, and his stomach dropped. Darth Sidious, only Sidious could do that from across the galaxy.

He sat up sharply and fumbled with the comlink, standing up and hitting the controls quickly, accepting the connection. The small, blue hologram of a cloaked figure appeared, and the pressure on his neck disappeared. “Lord Vader.”

Vader fell to his knees, overwhelmed. He had never done well while interacting with Sidious directly. He was so powerful, the dark side so coiled and icy around him. Vader was deeply and completely afraid of him. “Master.” 

He couldn't call him anything else.

“Darth Tyranus had an interesting story for me. I want to know how much of it is true.”

Vader swallowed thickly, knowing better than to lie, and he kept his head bowed respectfully. “I have left the Separatists and am helping the Republic forces on Christophsis.”

“Why?” Sidious asked, and it was impossible to read his tone.

Vader blushed, and hoped that didn’t show up in the holo. “I was persuaded to do so by the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Yes, so I heard…” Sidious said slowly, a drawl that signified nothing good. His tone became increasingly glacial, “What have you told him?” 

Vader looked up, confused. “What?” 

“What have you told him? What have you revealed about my plans, Vader?”

“Nothing,” Vader said quickly, before amending himself. “I told him how to win this battle, this planet, because I wanted to survive. I haven’t told him anything else.”

Sidious’s voice was lethal. “Not my identity?”

“No, Master. I…” Vader bit his lip. “I let slip that Dooku was named Darth Tyranus and he sounded concerned by that. That’s the only mistake I—”

His ability to breathe was gone, his ability to talk with it. It hurt so much. Was this the time Sidious actually killed him? Vader relaxed into the chokehold and stopped fighting it, either outcome possible and nothing he could do about it. He’d been waiting for death for years. After several heartbeats, the tightness disappeared, and he gasped in a deep breath, his throat aching. 

“Of all the mistakes,” Sidious hissed at him. “That is potentially very dangerous to my plans, Vader. You will tell him nothing else.”

“Of course.” Speaking hurt, but Vader rasped out his apology anyway. “I am sorry, Master.”

Sidious sneered at him, and a moment of silence extended. The small black robed figure steepled his fingers before him pensively. “Luckily for you, Vader, it doesn’t matter much to me which side of this conflict you are on, or even what you do, as long as you do as much damage as you possibly can to the other side.” 

“Really?” Vader exhaled hard, completely taken aback. “What?”

Sidious lazily waved a hand. “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a very capable Jedi. He will complete your training. Dooku is still useful to me, but there is nothing more that he can teach you. Wait until I give you permission to hunt him.”

Sidious was just giving him to the Jedi, letting him join their side of the war? 

“Did you plan this?” Vader asked slowly, feeling slightly numb. “All along?”

“I have many contingency plans,” Sidious said mysteriously.

Vader shook his head with confusion, trying to understand. “Why him? Why Obi-Wan?” 

Sidious leered, his voice adopting a sinister edge. “You are asking me why I would have you train with the only other living Sith killer?”

“Oh,” Vader said, sitting back on his feet, feeling slightly foolish. He stared at the far wall, and everything made sense. “Of course.”

“Good,” Sidious said with satisfaction. “Keep this com. I will be in touch.”

“Yes, Master,” Vader bowed his head again, more deeply. The holo cut out, and Sidious was gone. 

Vader stared at the place where the figure had been, processing what had just happened. Sidious rarely communicated with him directly, usually giving orders for him to Dooku as intermediary. He’d come to Serenno to evaluate his progress several times, and had taken him on several trips to test and teach him, but he was always busy, too busy for Vader.

Vader rubbed his neck and stood up slowly, stowing the comlink securely back in his belt. What was he going to do now? Now that he had been called to heel by the Sith Master himself, and he owed Sidious a favor, a big one, he couldn’t tell… 

He sat down heavily and then lay back on the bed, feeling numb. He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember how free he’d felt when he first accepted Obi-Wan’s offer to return with him to the Republic forces, when Obi-Wan had claimed him as an apprentice. He’d felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. 

The weight was back, and it was crushing him again. He’d never really be free. Sidious was too strong for him. He would always lose to him.

He knew that Obi-Wan couldn’t really help— he didn’t know the dark side, and anyway, now he had an apprentice, a Padawan. Vader sneered at the word in his mind, disgust running through him. Obi-Wan now had a Temple-raised, obedient little Jedi youngling to tag along at his heels and suck up his attention and time. Time he’d already promised to Vader.

He pouted with frustration; he’d already been replaced here, and yet Sidious wanted him to stay. He couldn’t go back to Serenno and would never see his workshop again. All his projects were lost, and all his droids were probably going to be destroyed. He was stuck here now, he couldn’t go anywhere else, and Obi-Wan didn’t want him, he wouldn’t want him. What was he going to do?

He felt himself begin to spiral, and couldn’t stop it. He didn’t mean to disturb the Force so much, but it was impossible to keep his feelings inside. They were all too big, too strong for his body to contain. He always felt so much and it hurt so much. His fear and loneliness were sharp and cold, cutting through and around him, slicing him apart. He wanted to be free. He didn’t even know what freedom was…

He heard the door open and then Obi-Wan rushed in. Vader opened his eyes slowly, looking up to see Obi-Wan standing over him, breathing slightly hard, his expression so concerned. “What’s wrong, Anakin?”

The name made Vader begin to cry, and Obi-Wan looked like he didn’t know what to do. Vader turned away from Obi-Wan’s helpless expression, rolling on his side to face the wall, knowing he was feeling too much, disturbing everything. He inhaled hard with surprise when Obi-Wan sat on the bed next to him and lay down behind him, pulling him into his arms, holding him tight.

Vader froze and then melted back against him, sniffing quietly. Obi-Wan repeated his question, more gently, less panicked. “What’s wrong, Anakin?”

“What did the Council say?” Vader asked thickly.

Obi-Wan squeezed him, his voice becoming a reassuring murmur in his ear, and his body was so warm and comforting against Vader's back. “We were only able to say that we needed reinforcements, dear one. I didn’t have time to ask about anything else.” 

They hadn’t discussed him. Obi-Wan still had someone else to take care of instead of him.

Vader’s feelings about it hadn’t settled, and Obi-Wan made a concerned noise, holding him against his chest. “What’s wrong, Anakin? Are you comfortable telling me?”

“You…” Vader swallowed, voice thick, eyes squeezed closed. “You have a real Padawan.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said softly, his arms tightening and then releasing slightly. Vader wiggled out of his embrace and turned to face him, scooting back, a bit too hurt to accept cuddling. He wasn’t used to it, and that much contact was so overwhelming. 

Obi-Wan raised a hand and laid it on Vader’s waist and tried to pull him back. “Darling, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know she was coming. It doesn’t change anything between us, I promise.”

“You just accepted her right away.” Vader sniffed, holding himself back. “You weren’t even thinking about me at all.”

Obi-Wan sighed and let the hand drop. He shifted up the bed and lay down with his head on the pillow, looking at the ceiling and speaking quietly. “You don’t understand, Anakin. When I was her age, I was rejected by my Master. It felt like the worst thing that ever happened.” 

“Oh,” Vader said dubiously, crawling closer. He’d been rejected by his Master? Why? He was the best…

“It was terrible,” Obi-Wan said as if he was confessing an unspeakable secret, and he watched Vader approach with sad eyes. “I will not be responsible for making another youngling feel as miserable and unwanted as I was. Do you understand why I had to make sure she knew that I accepted her?”

“I guess,” Vader said reluctantly, curling up on Obi-Wan’s chest, still feeling a deep pull of resentment. He didn’t want to share. He would always lose. Obi-Wan wouldn’t think of him first.

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Vader's back and squeezed him, probably feeling him begin to spiral again in the Force. “I’m going to ask Master Yoda to take her back, but I don’t know if he will. I don’t know how the Council is going to handle your presence. I might not be able to claim you as an apprentice publicly, but—”

“You won’t have time for me!” Vader cut him off sadly. “You won’t.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, and his gaze was so kind, voice so sincere. “You’re my priority, Anakin, I promise.”

Vader studied his face, desperate to find the sign of a lie. “You promise?”

“Yes, sweet boy,” Obi-Wan said, painfully earnest. He stroked a hand through Vader’s hair, cupping the back of his head and scratching the scalp, making him tingle. “I am going to take care of you.”

Vader wanted to believe him, and decided to try. He looked like he meant it. He pushed up, closing the distance between their faces, and kissed him, unable to put into words just how much he appreciated him, how much he wanted him to do that. He wanted him to care.

Obi-Wan pulled back from the kiss sharply, a conflicted expression on his face. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Vader’s lower lip pouted stubbornly and he shifted so his cock was against Obi-Wan’s thigh, exhaling hard as he finally got pressure where he wanted it most. He rocked against Obi-Wan’s leg on instinct and whined, and Obi-Wan shuddered and pushed him back, trying to get up. 

Vader held tight to him, and Obi-Wan exhaled a slightly hysterical laugh. “Anakin, darling, I’m trying to do the right thing here, and you’re making that very difficult.”

Vader tipped his head to the side, his eyes wide. “What’s the right thing?” 

“Not having sex with you,” Obi-Wan said softly. His voice was so tender and warm, he felt like sunlight in the Force. Vader grabbed and tangled himself inside, using Obi-Wan’s clear sky to calm the thunderstorm inside himself. Obi-Wan exhaled hard, squeezing his eyes closed and opening them again. “I won’t do it.”

Vader squirmed against him unhappily, and whimpered with complaint when Obi-Wan sat up, pushing him off gently to lay beside him. “Why not?”

“Umm…” Obi-Wan stared down at him, and he seemed to be having trouble putting thoughts together. He looked away, and took a steadying breath. “Masters don’t fuck their apprentices. It’s an abuse of power, Anakin. I won’t abuse your trust.” He began to scoot off the bed, and Vader couldn’t let him go, he couldn’t leave him.

Lightning quick, he crawled up and onto Obi-Wan’s lap, pushing him down and keeping him in place. He hovered over him, and suddenly their faces were very close. Obi-Wan’s eyes had so many shades of blue, but most of them were hidden, his pupils blown wide and black. He was blinking up at Vader quickly with confusion at being moved, before his gaze sharpened. “Anakin, no. We can’t, okay? I have power over you.”

Vader whined, feeling a hot pulse of arousal, rocking his hips down against him. “I know you do.”

“You like that?” Obi-Wan looked pained, his hands jumping to Vader’s hips to keep them still. 

Vader groaned with frustration at the strength of his grip. “I need it.”

Obi-Wan squeezed him again, and made earnest eye contact, trying to make him pay attention to his words. “You don’t have to earn my attention with sex.”

“Sure, that’s great.” Vader felt a surge of frustration, scowling and squirming. Why was he being so difficult? “But I want to have sex. It felt really nice. I liked how it felt to come. I’d never, ever felt anything like that before.”

Obi-Wan shook his head with confusion. “Never?”

Vader stopped squirming, his jaw clenching at a tremendous wave of bad memories that almost killed his arousal immediately. He shouldn’t have brought it up. He muttered, withdrawing slightly. “The first time I tried was the first time Dooku used Force lightning on me. It hurt really bad.”

Obi-Wan’s breathing hitched, and his voice came out intentionally steady, with a dangerous edge. “How old were you?”

Vader shrugged, his attention moving to a string that was loose on Obi-Wan’s tabard, playing with it. “Eleven or twelve? I don’t know. It was early on…”  

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan sounded so sad, but Vader just couldn’t bring himself to look at his face to check. He kept his focus on the string, tugging and pulling at it. 

“So I never did it again,” he said softly, and yanked the string out, finally looking up into Obi-Wan’s concerned face. “You were the first one who ever touched me like that, and I want you to do it again. I liked it so much.”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s face was intent and his presence in the Force was burning with concern. “You’re clinging to the first nice thing. I would be taking advantage of you. I care about you too much to do that.” 

Vader scoffed, recoiling slightly with disgust. It just didn’t make sense. “Why?”

“Why what?” Obi-Wan frowned, a hand jumping to Vader’s cheek, cupping his face and studying his expression. 

Vader pressed into the contact, but he just didn’t understand. Nobody cared like that. “Why do you care about me so much, so fast? Everyone else wants to use me.”

“That’s why, dear one,” Obi-Wan said, voice full of fire. “You’re a person, not something to use. I see that. I want to protect that.”

A person. 

How many times had he… 

How did he know…

“Yeah,” Vader said quietly, and all at once his eyes felt so hot, throat so thick he could barely talk. He was a person. He swallowed and tried to breathe, but it was impossible. He attempted to continue speaking and failed, all that came out was a quiet sob, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. He curled forward, his face crunched and tight. 

Obi-Wan grabbed him, and held him close in a hug. Vader tucked his face against Obi-Wan’s neck, struggling for air— his chest felt so tight. He was a person. He felt more than heard as Obi-Wan murmured to him. “Breathe, darling, breathe with me now…”

Obi-Wan’s chest began to expand and contract, the motion exaggerated as an example for him to use, and Vader relaxed against him as much as he could, letting him guide his breath. All his focus went into matching Obi-Wan’s breathing, untangling the knot of grief in his chest that was tied so tight that he couldn’t breathe deeply.

Obi-Wan rubbed his back between his shoulder blades, massaging the tense muscles there, encouraging him to release them. Vader used him as a guide and relaxed against his hand, and his breath immediately began to come easier, his chest expanding without as much of the constricted, painful feeling inside. 

He sucked in a deep breath, seizing all the oxygen he could, and Obi-Wan hummed with approval, rubbing his back harder. His voice was a low, encouraging rasp. “Just like that, darling, very good.”

It sounded so much like when he was fucking him.

Vader felt a bolt of arousal so strong it was almost sharp as a knife in the gut, his cock throbbing. He shifted, pressing his growing erection against Obi-Wan's thigh, seeking pressure. It felt so good. He whimpered, “Please, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan froze, and pushed him back, tipping his head up to look him in the eyes. “Anakin, sweetheart, no. I just explained why I won’t—”

“But I want to feel good again,” Vader whined, feeling more than slightly pathetic. He rolled his hips down harder and groaned. “It felt so nice for you to touch me, Obi-Wan, please.” Obi-Wan just stared at him, his face so conflicted, his hands firm on Vader’s upper arms, keeping him back. 

Vader bit his lip and looked down, embarrassed by how much he needed it. “Nobody’s touched me for years at all, please, Master? I need more of it. I need it.” He shifted his hips again, and felt Obi-Wan’s cock against his own, and it was also getting hard.

Obi-Wan groaned at the pressure, his eyes closing and jaw tightening. “Anakin, I—”

“You’re hard too, I can feel it…” Vader cut Obi-Wan off, trying his best to convince him, rubbing against him and making a little incredulous noise at how good it felt. An idea struck him, which immediately became a necessity; he looked down at the outline of Obi-Wan’s cock in his pants and bit his lip. “Can I suck on it? Will you teach me how? I want to know how—”

“Stop talking,” Obi-Wan said roughly, squeezing Vader’s biceps, his thick fingers wrapped tight enough to bruise. He’d mark his skin, leave his imprint, and Vader could carry it with him, look at it and remember when Obi-Wan held him so tight. “Anakin…”

Vader whined, the word resonating through him, making him shudder and his cock leak in his pants. “I like when you say my name.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said again in a low voice; it was forbidding, and commanding.

Vader’s eyes fluttered closed, his cock throbbing. “Yeah, just like that…”

Obi-Wan groaned with frustration, his cock was so hard against Vader’s, with so many layers between. He wanted him too, Vader could tell. He wanted him. His voice was almost desperately concerned as he asked, “You’re sure about this?”

“Please,” Vader begged, trying to force Obi-Wan to understand how much he needed it. He projected his need into the Force, shouting his feelings. Get over whatever is stopping you, and touch me, please, touch me, touch me! “I’ve never wanted anything more, ever…”

Obi-Wan’s resistance finally gave way, and he pulled Vader close to press a kiss full of promise on his open mouth. Vader moaned gratefully into the kiss, the soft movement of Obi-Wan’s lips pressed so perfectly against his own. Obi-Wan eventually pulled his head back and exhaled shakily, pulling apart his tabards and pushing up his tunics, revealing the fastening of his trousers.

Vader shivered, whimpering quietly at all the layers being parted for him. He reached forward and opened Obi-Wan’s pants with trembling fingers, sliding his left hand in between the fabric and Obi-Wan’s hot skin. He wrapped his hand around his cock and carefully took him out of his pants. He was so thick already, so hard, he wanted him so much.

“Gently, good,” Obi-Wan murmured encouragement, hips shifting to help. 

Vader licked his lips, holding the thick length in his hand. He squeezed slightly and looked up at Obi-Wan, eager for instruction. “What do I do now?”

"Umm…" Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. “Use your fingers first, run them gently up the underside of…” Vader stroked his fingertips carefully along the vein, and Obi-Wan groaned. “Yes, just like that.” 

Vader hummed happily. “You like it?”

“Very good, darling.” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his curls, and smiled at him, so fond, almost tender. “Do you want to put your mouth on it now?”

“Yes,” Vader whispered, studying the cock in his hand intently.

Obi-Wan nodded, and his voice was slightly rough. “Suck spit into your mouth and show me…“ Vader frowned and sucked, showing his wet tongue. Obi-Wan made a satisfied noise, his hips shifting. “Good… now lick it, get it wet…”

Vader bent forward, obediently licking up Obi-Wan’s cock, spreading the saliva from the base to the tip. He made a low, satisfied sound— Obi-Wan’s skin tasted so good, and he smelled like lightly scented soap and clean sweat, it was so perfect, just right.

Obi-Wan groaned as Vader licked the tip, and then took a steadying breath, instructing him, voice intent. “Take the head into your mouth… good. Suck on it, gently, darling, be careful with your teeth.” 

Vader nodded seriously, carefully holding his lips to cover his teeth as the tip of Obi-Wan’s cock sunk inside his mouth. He sucked experimentally, flicking over it with his tongue, and Obi-Wan groaned.

“If I wasn’t already hard, you might have to do that more, but as you can see…” Obi-Wan laughed, quietly amused at himself. “I am already very hard.” 

Vader pulled off his cock with a grin, enjoying how black Obi-Wan’s eyes had become, how flushed his cheeks and neck were. He experimentally wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan’s thick cock, slightly shiny with his spit, and slid his hand up the length slowly, holding eye contact. “Does this feel good?”

Obi-Wan’s stomach contracted, as though he’d kept his hips still with effort, his eyes squeezing closed and reopening even more intent, his voice raspy. “Good, yes. Combine the two now. Your hand and your mouth together.”

Vader nodded and sucked the head of Obi-Wan’s cock back inside, his hand carefully stroking down the length and back up. Obi-Wan moaned as Vader licked the head of his cock while sucking on it, his hand moving slightly faster. He pulled off with a popping sound to breathe, sighing happily. “Your skin tastes so good.”

“Does it?” Obi-Wan said, a small, amused smile lighting up his handsome face.  

“I love it.” Vader licked the shiny tip of Obi-Wan’s cock again and hummed happily, his eyelashes fluttering closed and a smile spreading across his face. “I love sucking your cock.” Obi-Wan groaned, and Vader looked up and made curious eye contact. “What?”

Obi-Wan looked incredulous. “The things you say…”

“Oh,” Vader blushed, thinking back through what he’d been saying. “I wasn’t thinking…” He put his mouth back on Obi-Wan’s cock, sucking the head gently to avoid talking.

Obi-Wan smiled at him fondly, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He reached a hand down, stroking through Vader’s messy hair, scratching and making a shiver run down his spine. His voice was so low. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth, Anakin. You really are so very beautiful, dear one.”

Vader whined happily, still washed with disbelief that anyone would say such a thing to him.

“You are. Your lips…” Obi-Wan shook his head as though he didn’t have words. He was staring at him, his eyes hooded and dark. “Do you want to try taking it deeper inside?”

Vader pulled off to breathe. “Yes, please!”

Obi-Wan nodded, and Vader sucked more spit into his mouth, and then showed it to him, his eyes wide. Obi-Wan smiled his approval. “Very good, Anakin. You do learn quickly.” Vader glowed with pride, and Obi-Wan encouraged him in a low voice. “Take it into your mouth slowly, good. Now take it deeper, taking it as far as you can without choking. Slowly.” 

Vader focused and pushed his head forward, letting Obi-Wan’s cock sink deeper into his mouth, sliding down his tongue. Obi-Wan swore under his breath and stroked Vader’s hair again, his voice slightly shaky. “Good, very good.” He groaned as the head of his cock touched the back of Vader’s throat, his back arching slightly. “Just like that.”

Vader pulled his head back to gasp for air, carefully allowing the inches of the cock he’d swallowed to slip out. He frowned up at Obi-Wan, nose wrinkled with confusion. “How did you take it even deeper? That seems impossible, there isn’t room…”

Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly, stroking his head again. “I’ll teach you that later, I promise.”

“Good,” Vader said shyly. He returned his focus to Obi-Wan spit-wet cock. “So I just go up and down with my mouth?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, his voice taking on a teasing edge, clearly joking. “Either you do, or I’ll fuck your face at this point.”

“Yes, please!” Vader requested, nodding quickly, eyes going wide. Obi-Wan exhaled hard, shaking his head at him as if he didn’t make sense. Vader scowled. “Now you have to show me.” 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan groaned incredulously. “You don't—”

“Please!” Vader cut him off. He wanted it so much.

“Fine,” Obi-Wan agreed, somewhat shakily. He gently cupped Vader's head and moved him down, tipping his face up, rearranging him to the right angle. “Are you comfortable like this?”

Vader hummed positively, and Obi-Wan nodded, eyes intent, his voice getting huskier. “I’ll hold your head just like this, and you’ll take my cock. You get your mouth wet and show me your tongue first…”

Vader relaxed into Obi-Wan’s hands, and let his jaw drop, opening his mouth to show how wet it was. Obi-Wan groaned and stroked his head, petting his hair. He pressed the head of his cock against Vader’s pouting bottom lip. “You’re going to take me into your mouth, relax and just take it…”

Vader nodded, parting his lips wider. Obi-Wan pulled his head forward, pushing his cock inside so slowly, filling Vader’s mouth inch by inch, flexing his hips back and then thrusting forward again, sinking in ever so slightly deeper. Vader did his best to take it, cock throbbing at how Obi-Wan was being so careful with him, so gentle.

“Exactly right, darling.” He let Vader off to breathe, stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. “Where do you want me to come?”

“In my mouth,” Vader said, like it was obvious. “I want to taste your come.” 

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan said roughly. “It won’t take much more…”

Vader whined with disappointment, pouting against Obi-Wan’s thumb, eyes wide and begging. “I like it though. I don’t want it to be over.”

“You are something else, dear one.” Obi-Wan shook his head slightly incredulously, his eyes intense as he fed his cock into Vader’s mouth again, fucking it in and out shallowly, rubbing the head on Vader’s tongue and letting him lick it. He exhaled hard, moving slightly faster. “We will do it again later, I promise, but I’m very close now. You’re doing such a good job, Anakin…” 

Vader whined with pleasure, and sucked harder. Obi-Wan’s face was getting tight, his voice so rough and low. “So good, darling, your mouth is perfect.” Vader hummed happily, and Obi-Wan gasped, hips fucking in slightly harder one last time as he came deep in his mouth. 

Vader moaned and swallowed Obi-Wan’s come as best he could. He was both surprised and not surprised about the taste of it after tasting his precome. He made Obi-Wan come, it was so satisfying, so much fun.

After a long moment, Obi-Wan shifted back, and Vader let his cock slide out. He licked his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then looking up to make eye contact with Obi-Wan. He blushed instantly at the expression on his face. 

Obi-Wan was looking at him so intensely, so warmly. Vader felt extremely seen, and extremely special. His own cock throbbed almost painfully, and he whined with need. Obi-Wan kissed his forehead and pulled him closer. “Do you need to come too, darling?”

“Yes,” Vader whined.

“Come here,” Obi-Wan invited, tucking himself away and opening his arms. Vader crawled back up on his lap, and Obi-Wan kissed him, tasting his own come. Vader wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him back deeply, clinging to him tightly. Obi-Wan’s mouth felt so good against his own— his lips were so soft, his beard felt so rough and unfamiliar against his skin. 

Obi-Wan slid his hands between their bodies and opened Vader’s pants, pushing them down and lightly rubbing over the fabric of his underwear, stroking his hard cock down to gently cup his balls. Vader groaned loudly, rolling his hips forward into his hand— the incredible warmth and pressure made him feel so close to coming already. 

He pulled back from the kiss to breathe, holding eye contact. Obi-Wan lifted his hand to his mouth and spat into his palm, reaching down with the other hand to pull Vader’s cock out. He began to stroke it, squeezing the head just right, his hand tugging and wrist twisting so perfectly. Vader panted, his mouth open, trembling and unsteady. 

Obi-Wan smiled up at him, and it was that perfect, warm, and knowing smile, the one that accepted everything about Vader, and made him feel like he was home. He whined incredulously, and Obi-Wan kissed him again, sucking hard on his bottom lip, biting it, his hand speeding up on his cock. It felt so good, impossibly good.  

Obi-Wan pressed their foreheads together, and Vader could feel his hot breath on his mouth, like they were sharing air. The entire world had collapsed to just them two, just the inches between them and the gentle pressure of Obi-Wan’s hand on his cock existed. Vader’s whole body felt tight and quivering, like he was about to explode. 

Obi-Wan hummed with satisfaction. “Look at you, sweet boy, so good for me, being so good.” Vader whined and nodded. “You helped me so much today, darling, I couldn’t have done it without you. You did such a good job for me, Anakin.”

Anakin.

It was still incredible to hear, and still felt like the key to the lock inside his head and heart; the roughly whispered, forbidden syllables tipped him over the edge, and he moaned loudly as he came, his head curling forward to clunk into Obi-Wan’s forehead.

Obi-Wan made an encouraging sound, his palm filling with Vader’s come. “Good boy, yes, perfect, Anakin.”

Vader moaned with disappointment as Obi-Wan took his warm hand away, his cock softening. Obi-Wan lazily wiped his hand off on his shirt and then relaxed back onto the pillow, pulling Vader down with him to lay on his chest. Vader snuggled his face into his neck, and exhaled hard. His head still felt woozy and warm, he was lost and floating in the afterglow. 

Obi-Wan pressed a kiss against his temple, and hugged him tighter. “You’re an incredible person, Anakin. I’m very glad I met you.”

“Thank you,” Vader whispered, shuddering. “Thank you, Master.”