Tilted

Anakin knew that he was hiding.

He was aware that it was probably a cowardly and immature response to recent events, and that he was supposed to accept what had happened with the fortitude, patience, and resolve of a Jedi. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be hiding in his tiny cabin if this had happened to him. Obi-Wan would be on the bridge, meeting with the Council and commanding the fleet. 

Anakin felt his lower lip attempting to pout, and so pursed his lips to prevent it. This sort of thing would never happen to Obi-Wan anyway. The Force had it in for Anakin, he was sure of it. Why did it make him one way, and then change him without warning?

He would never have expected this outcome from the stupid kriffing distress call. He hadn’t expected to be pulled into some weird Force nexus, and tested by absurdly powerful beings. He remembered that he’d defeated the Son, and then the life energy of the dying Father had flooded into him. He remembered the overwhelming agony of it—his body felt ripped apart and transformed into something else, his experience of time condensed and then snapped.

His memories after that point were fuzzy. He’d woken up in the shuttle with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, Captain Rex’s voice on the radio proving no time had passed, but with one crucial change. 

Anakin burrowed deeper under the blankets he’d piled up on his narrow bed, wanting to hide and disappear so badly. His body was different, wrong, not his. He was a man, but now—

There was a knock on his door, and Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s concerned Force signature. He didn’t want to let him in. He didn’t want to see anyone, ever again. He didn’t want anyone to see him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, voice muffled by the door. A caring brush of his mental energy stroked against Anakin’s mind, like gentle fingertips running down his spine, and it made him shudder. “Let me in, please.”

Anakin resisted for a moment, but knew he couldn’t resist forever. He didn’t budge from under his blanket as he waved his fingers to slide the door open. No more metal fingers, his right hand had been restored to its original state, but at what cost?

Obi-Wan walked in and sighed at the sight of Anakin hiding under the blankets, the door sliding closed behind him. There was a faint dragging sound as Obi-Wan pulled out the desk chair and sat down. Anakin could feel his curiosity in the Force and he scowled, unwilling to talk.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan prompted gently after a long silence. “Are you feeling all right?”

Anakin laughed, and then cringed—it just sounded wrong. His voice was different than before, unfamiliar and too high. “Obviously not.” 

There was a pause, and Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s intense scrutiny in the Force. “Do you feel sick or hurt? Do you need to go to the med—”

“I’m fine.” Anakin cut him off, swallowing and forcing himself to speak in his feminine voice. “I don’t feel sick. Nothing hurts.”

Obi-Wan sighed again, and Anakin felt him tap the side of the bed with his foot. “Anakin, may I see you, please?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

Anakin scowled again, and then gave up with hiding. He reluctantly pushed the blankets off, sitting up and squinting slightly in the light, blushing as he met Obi-Wan’s intense blue eyes. He raised a hand helplessly, gesturing toward himself and waving it up and down. “See? I’ve got…” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down, and Anakin’s blush deepened, suddenly very aware that he was only wearing a thin, dark undershirt and white boxer briefs. His clothes draped and clung to him in a new way, all his new curves felt on display.

Obi-Wan’s face was a blank mask, polite, supportive, and neutral as he surveyed the changes, eyes passing without stopping over Anakin’s new breasts, his slim waist and flared hips, down to the lack of bulge between his legs before snapping back up to meet his eyes. 

“Your…?”

Anakin felt on the verge of tears, voice slightly thick as he nodded. “It’s gone. I think I had a…”

He trailed off, and Obi-Wan looked so concerned. “A what?”

“I think I had a baby, Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s face twisted, overwhelmed by the confusing, painful memories. “The Force, it… it used me to…”

Obi-Wan was quiet, processing his words. “And you don’t think your body will change back?”

Anakin felt a swell of desperation and he shot up from the bed, too agitated to stay still. “I don’t know how it possibly could!” 

Obi-Wan pulled his feet back, making room for Anakin to pace in the small space. He watched him go back and forth, and Anakin could feel the weight of his observation. They’d seen each other in various states of undress hundreds of times over the years, but suddenly it felt very strange that Obi-Wan could see his thighs. 

He hated this. Even walking was wrong. He was almost the same height, but his center of gravity was slightly different, lower down than before, his shoulders narrower and his hips wider, his chest heavier. Anakin looked up at the ceiling, refusing to let tears fall, hating the sensation of his chest bouncing as he walked. “I want my body back. I’m… I’m a man, Obi-Wan.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said quickly. 

Anakin turned to face him and put his hands on his hips for a moment out of habit, then jerked them off as though burned—he hated the reminder of the wrong shape of his body. He clenched his fists instead, hissing indignantly, “I’m not a woman!”

“I know, Anakin. I know you’re not. You can…” Obi-Wan looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Anakin decided to get dressed. “There are surgeries that can…”

Anakin made a face, bending down and pawing through the pile of clothing and armor to find pants. “I don’t want to get surgery, I want my old body back.”

“I know, dear one.” Obi-Wan sighed again, and sounded so tired, his presence in the Force so impossibly warm. “I wish I could make that possible for you.”

Anakin hummed a flat thanks for the thought, and grabbed the pants that he suddenly and vividly remembered painfully peeling off. It might be difficult to get them back on. Kriff. He needed clothes that fit. 

Obi-Wan was still watching him, and Anakin’s sense of nakedness increased. He tried to pull the pants up, but his hips were wider now, and his ass was refusing to let the waist pass. He tried to pull them again, and his ass just bounced instead. “I don’t fit into any of my clothes.”

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan said, his voice sounding slightly off, and his Force presence retreating a bit.  

Anakin hissed with frustration and kicked the offending pants off, giving up. He felt the uncomfortable jiggle of his breasts as he did, and he pressed an arm across his chest to keep them still, wishing they were strapped down somehow, or didn’t exist at all. He sniffed, his eyes feeling hot. “I hate this. I hate it. I hate my body.”

“Anakin, don’t…”

Anakin sat back down heavily on the bed, and began to cry in earnest, shoulders shaking, face in his hands. He could barely breathe, barely think. It was so embarrassing to weep like this in front of Obi-Wan, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop. “I hate this. I hate it.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, rising to stand in front of the bed. He lifted a hand toward Anakin’s shoulder, and then paused before making contact. “May I touch you?”

Anakin nodded quickly, and tried to stop hyperventilating. He leaned hard into Obi-Wan’s hand, and let his head drop forward to rest his forehead on Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan exhaled and caught him in a hug, moving closer to stand between Anakin’s knees and cupping the back of his head, holding him close.

“I am sorry this happened, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, voice low. Anakin could feel the rumble of his words, and rubbed his face on his chest affectionately in reply. Obi-Wan huffed a soft laugh. “You’re getting snot on my tunic.”

“Sorry,” Anakin said thickly, and then did it again. 

Obi-Wan sighed affectionately and ran his fingers through Anakin’s hair, the other hand rubbing his back. Anakin relaxed more and more into him, slumping against his chest, his tears slowly dying down. He didn’t want to move. Obi-Wan reassured him in the Force, so warm and bright. “Everything will be okay, Anakin.”

Anakin shook his head. “I look like a girl.”

“And yet you are not one,” Obi-Wan squeezed him slightly. “I know that, and the men will address you correctly, as will Ahsoka, and the rest of the Jedi. We know who you are.”

“The HoloNet—”

“Kriff the HoloNet,” Obi-Wan said dismissively. 

Anakin snorted and tipped his head back. “Language, Master.”

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I always told you that swearing was appropriate when it was justified.”

“You meant when I got hurt, not—”

“I know what I meant,” Obi-Wan smiled warmly down at him, tugging on his hair gently in rebuke. 

Anakin sighed at the nice sensation, and let his head drop forward into Obi-Wan’s chest again, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist to keep him close. He was just so glad to have his Master here, and didn’t have to deal with this alone. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Anakin shrugged, voice quiet. “For helping me on Mortis. I’m sorry I trapped you in the well of the dark side. I can’t remember what I was thinking.”

Obi-Wan laughed, kind and knowing. “You weren’t thinking. That, as usual, was the problem.”

“Hey!” Anakin squeezed him tightly. “That’s not very nice.”

Obi-Wan exhaled loudly in protest and tugged on Anakin’s hair to make him relax his arms. His presence in the Force was so soft and warm, Anakin couldn’t help but obey. “Being forced to climb out of a lava pit wasn’t very nice either, but I forgive you for that.”

“You do?”

“I’ll always forgive you, Anakin.”

Anakin looked up with wide eyes, surprised by the intensity of his voice. “Really?”

Obi-Wan grinned, hair falling rakishly across his forehead, and he was so absurdly handsome in that moment that Anakin felt like he’d swallowed something hot, sweet, and sparkling. “You know that, after the incident with Qui-Gon’s—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin cut him off, blushing, remembering the disastrous first attempt at drinking with the other Padawans that ended up with shattered porcelain on the kitchen floor. “No need to bring that up again.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be hearing about that until we both have gray hair, Padawan of mine.”

Anakin couldn’t help but smile back weakly, the idea of being an old man with his Master filling him with an unexpected sense of relief. The hand that had been in his hair slid around to cup his jaw, and Obi-Wan studied his face. “It’s good to see you smile again.”

“Don’t,” Anakin attempted to cringe out of his hold, and blushed harder when Obi-Wan resisted letting him pull away. 

“Don’t what?”

Anakin closed his eyes, face feeling hot. “I don’t know. Don’t look at me. My face is wrong too.”

“In what way?” Obi-Wan sounded genuinely surprised. “It’s still your face. I guess your chin is less square now but…”

Anakin’s bottom lip jutted out. “I liked how I looked before.”

“Vain, are we?”

“I was handsome!” Anakin said defensively. He tried to pull away again and scowled when Obi-Wan didn’t let him. “I thought so anyway. People said so!”

Obi-Wan had the audacity to laugh. “And now you’re pretty, what of it?”

Anakin blinked, his heart pounding. He was suddenly aware of just how long Obi-Wan had been holding him close—how long he’d been standing between his bare thighs, Anakin’s breasts occasionally brushing his stomach. Why hadn’t he stepped back? “Really? You think so?” 

Obi-Wan squeezed his chin and then let go, his hand falling to hold his shoulder reassuringly. “You are the same person, Anakin. Your eyes are the same. The shape of your body isn’t what really made you handsome before, you know.”

“Master,” Anakin said weakly. He’d always wondered if Obi-Wan had ever noticed that he’d grown up. If he’d noticed that others had found him attractive, or if he’d ever personally found him handsome. “You think I’m… I’m pretty?”

“Is that really so important to you?” Obi-Wan tipped his head to the side curiously.

“No,” Anakin said quickly, looking down, embarrassed. He felt on the edge of tears again. “Nevermind, sorry.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed fondly, and cupped the back of his head, kissing his forehead. “Yes, you are very pretty.”

He made to step back, and Anakin clung to the fabric of the back of his tunic, keeping him close with a high, needy noise that made his cheeks flush. This was all so embarrassing. 

“Anakin?”

“Just… wait a second,” Anakin said quietly, shoving his face into Obi-Wan’s chest and hugging him close, inhaling his familiar, perfect scent. “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan sighed, and hugged him back. “Everything will be okay.” His voice was so smooth and low, it felt like silk on Anakin’s skin, and he barely resisted shuddering. His nipples hardened for some reason, and they were so sensitive against Obi-Wan’s stomach, it made him swallow thickly. 

One of Obi-Wan’s hands returned to his short curls, scratching his scalp and running his fingers through his messy hair, tugging occasionally on a knot. Each tug sent electricity down Anakin’s spine, and he shifted his hips, pushing into his touch. Obi-Wan’s mind was open in the Force, spilling his soft reassurance into Anakin’s mind, and it was like sinking into a warm bath.

Eventually Obi-Wan pulled back again, and Anakin reluctantly let him. Their eyes met, and the soft fondness in Obi-Wan’s mixed with his gentle smile, it was all too much. Anakin felt something like a lightning strike, and then wetness between his legs. He gasped and shifted, looking down with horror. 

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, immediately concerned. 

Anakin’s hand instinctively went down to cover himself, and he swiped his fingers against the small wet spot. He felt a rising swell of panic, confused about the sensation. Had he just kriffing wet himself? Was he bleeding? What the karking fierkek was—

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan prompted him, curiosity swirling in the Force. “What’s wrong?”

Anakin raised his fingers to check, but it wasn’t blood, and he didn’t see a spreading red stain, but felt a buzzing heat… of arousal. Kriff. He realized what had happened in a moment of terrible clarity. He recognized the scent clinging to his fingers, his fling with Padmé making him well aware of what… Oh, Force. He couldn’t tell him. “Umm…”

“Anakin?”

Anakin leaned back sharply, rubbing his hand on the blanket, his breathing fast and shallow. “I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“It’s nothing important! I promise.”

Obi-Wan gave him a knowing look. “You’re panicking quite a lot for nothing.”

Anakin cringed. He looked down, intently studying his right hand and willing the scent to disappear. “I’m… I’m just not used to this body.”

“What does that mean?” Obi-Wan sounded like he was losing patience. Kriff.

“I just…” Anakin groaned. “Don’t make me say it, Master.” 

“Say what?”

“It’s just…” Anakin put his face in his hands and swallowed a scream. “I’m kinda wet.”

Obi-Wan went very still. “Pardon?”

“I told you!” Anakin forced a smile that probably came across as a pained grimace. “Nothing important.” He scooted back into the bed a bit, getting Obi-Wan’s thighs away from the wet spot in his underwear. 

Obi-Wan was studying him intently, eyes flicking between Anakin’s face, his extremely visible nipples, and his underwear. Kriff. “You’re wet… As in…”

“Yes,” Anakin clenched his jaw and looked away. The sound of Obi-Wan saying that word wasn’t helping him at all.  

“Wet?” Obi-Wan repeated quietly to himself, still sounding a little dumbfounded.

“Kriff, Master, stop saying it.”

Obi-Wan still hadn’t moved from where he was standing between Anakin’s knees, looming over him and looking down at the way he was sprawled back on the bed. He seemed frozen, like the word wet had broken something fundamental in his brain.

The thought occurred to Anakin that it would be so easy for Obi-Wan to fuck him—no prep, no lube. He could just pull out his thick cock and shove it inside, Anakin was already so wet for him. Kriff.

Obi-Wan’s cheeks were growing pink with embarrassment, and Anakin’s arousal was only getting worse. He knew it must be leaking into the Force, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop picturing it, taking Obi-Wan’s cock out of his pants, guiding it to press against him where he was so slick and ready, moaning as he took it inside, so full of—

“You’re projecting,” Obi-Wan said, voice tight. “Quite a lot.”

Anakin felt like he could possibly die of shame. “Kriff, I’m so sorry. I just…”

“You want it.”

Anakin made an incredulous noise at that, eyes squeezing closed, face absolutely burning. Obi-Wan brushed his fingertips against Anakin’s knees, and the light, teasing contact only made Anakin feel wetter, and his hips rocked despite himself. He grabbed the blankets to prevent himself from just rubbing his clit like a schutta. “Master, don’t—”

The fingers disappeared. “No?”

“No?” Anakin repeated, disbelieving, eyes wide. He peered up into Obi-Wan’s face, searching for an explanation, and found that Obi-Wan’s pupils were blown wide, his eyes black with desire. Anakin’s jaw dropped and he panted, feeling a desperate need to touch himself. “Is yes an option?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said gruffly. He grabbed the backs of Anakin’s knees, dragging him back to the edge of the bed, and one of his thighs pressed hard against Anakin’s clit. Anakin’s back arched at the contact, and he moaned loudly, rocking against the pressure and overwhelmed by the pleasure radiating from that perfect spot. 

“Master,” Anakin gasped. “You want… You want me?”

Obi-Wan laughed at that, as though it were a stupid question, and his cheeks were so pink. His palms began to slide up the outside of Anakin’s thighs, and they both watched with rapt attention as he dragged his hands up and around Anakin’s hips, dipping under Anakin’s soft shirt and up to his narrow waist. 

Anakin whimpered and scrambled to pull off the shirt entirely, his bare breasts bouncing as he did. Obi-Wan exhaled hard at the bare expanse of his chest, golden skin and curved breasts—they weren’t huge, by any means, but they fit perfectly in Obi-Wan’s hands as he cupped them. He squeezed gently, thumbs flicking over Anakin’s tight nipples, and it felt so impossibly good, kriff. “Master, please!”

“Please, what?” 

“I don’t know! Anything, kark, just keep touching me, I swear—”

Obi-Wan grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him up, kissing him hard and cutting off his babbling. Anakin whimpered, opening his mouth and letting Obi-Wan deepen the kiss and lick inside, biting and sucking on his bottom lip. Obi-Wan’s other hand slid down and brushed against Anakin’s underwear, skipping lightly over his clit and seeking the wet spot. 

Anakin jerked his head back, desperate to breathe, desperate for Obi-Wan’s fingers to press harder, sink inside. He shoved his underwear down and pushed it off his hips, baring the unfamiliar shape of his clit beneath soft brown curls, the wet shine of his— “Please, oh, kriff. Please.”

“Anything,” Obi-Wan said roughly, looking down as though mesmerized. “Anything you want.” His face looked almost vacant as a sleepwalker, so lost in arousal, as he slid two fingers slowly through Anakin’s wetness and then brought them to his lips, tasting him. 

“Master,” Anakin whined loudly. The visual of his Master tasting him was mind-bendingly hot, and he needed, he needed—  

“Here,” Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled, shaking off his dazed state and grinning. His fingers dropped to tease Anakin’s clit again and to gather more slickness before he lifted them to rest against Anakin’s lips. “You try.”

Anakin obediently opened his mouth and accepted Obi-Wan’s thick fingers inside, tasting himself for the first time. His eyelashes fluttered closed as he sucked on his fingers, his brain felt like it was melting, he felt so impossibly hot and needy. He couldn’t help but touch himself, experimentally rubbing circles on his clit and moaning around Obi-Wan’s fingers.

“Force, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, sliding his fingers in and out, almost fucking Anakin’s mouth with them. His presence in the Force was like a forest fire, shimmering with heat. “How you look right now.”

He pressed down on Anakin’s tongue, and Anakin looked up at him, mouth open and wet, and rubbed his clit faster, pleasure building and building until he could sense the edge. He whined and Obi-Wan kissed him, hands returning to squeeze his breasts and pinch his nipples, sending lightning strikes of arousal straight down to Anakin’s clit. 

“You realize what this change means, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, voice low and intense. Anakin shook his head, unable to look away from Obi-Wan’s heated gaze, feeling trapped in their eye contact. 

“What?”

“How many times in a row can you come now?” Anakin’s eyes widened. Oh, kriff. “Shall we find out, darling?”

“Please,” Anakin begged, his fingers moving faster and faster. The edge was so close, so close, he pushed his chest into Obi-Wan’s hands, and groaned when Obi-Wan began to kiss down his neck, sucking and biting, mouth wet and hot against his skin. Anakin whined, “I’m so close.”

“Come, Anakin,” Obi-Wan ordered, so bossy. His hands tightened, pinching Anakin’s nipples hard and not letting go. “Come now.”

Anakin felt something give way in his brain and then his hips were rocking involuntarily, his orgasm rolling up his spine to crash through his brain like a tidal wave of pleasure. Obi-Wan hummed with satisfaction. “Yes, good boy.”

“Master,” Anakin whimpered when it ended, pulling his hand away and breathing hard. He felt completely loose and relaxed, the post-orgasm haze making him slump back against the bed, looking up at Obi-Wan, a dumb smile spreading on his face. “That felt good.”

“You are so beautiful, Anakin.”

Anakin had to look away, bashful. He wanted Obi-Wan closer, and tried to spread his legs in invitation, but frowned with annoyance as he had to push off his underwear to accomplish that task. Obi-Wan helped, and then all at once Anakin was completely naked on the bed, his legs open wide, and Obi-Wan was still in his full Jedi robes, tabards, boots, and all. 

He made to take his clothes off, and Anakin shook his head. “Just… just get your cock out and fuck me, Master. Fuck me like this. Fuck me now.”

“Anything you want,” Obi-Wan agreed roughly, and he quickly pushed his tabards to the side, opening his pants. Kriff, yes. Anakin watched with rapt attention, unable to breathe as Obi-Wan reached in and pulled out his erection. 

It was just as thick and long as Anakin had imagined it would be—probably dozens of times seeing it soft, this was the first time he’d seen it hard, and it was so perfect and flushed, the tip slick with precome. “You want me,” Anakin said dumbly, his legs opening wider on instinct. “You actually do.”

“What was your first clue?” Obi-Wan laughed, and Anakin just shook his head up at him, breathless and incredulous.

Obi-Wan grinned and tugged Anakin’s hips back to the edge of the bed, pulling his legs up over his shoulders and lining up his cock. He deliberately pressed the head of his cock against Anakin’s slick heat instead of thrusting inside him, rubbing and teasing him.

Anakin muttered mutinously, his hips shifting to try to get Obi-Wan’s cock inside. “Please, please, Master, please!”

“Force, Anakin,” Obi-Wan laughed. “All right.” He grabbed Anakin’s hips tightly, holding him still, and then began pulling him closer as he flexed his hips forward, the blunt head of his hard cock opening Anakin up and sinking deeper and deeper inside.

“Yes!” Anakin’s back arched as Obi-Wan thrust nearly all the way inside in one long, slow, inexorable slide of his cock. He grabbed the blankets and whined loudly. 

“You take it so well,” Obi-Wan said, sounding almost broken. He pulled back and then slid deep inside, their hips meeting as he buried himself all the way inside for the first time. “Fuck.”

Anakin groaned, and the entire world narrowed down until Obi-Wan’s cock was the only thing that existed, the way it felt as Obi-Wan began to fuck him harder, his movements smooth and intent. It felt so impossibly good, so incredible to be fucked full of Obi-Wan’s thick length. “Yes, harder, Master, yes.”

“Yeah?” Obi-Wan’s hands flexed on his hips and then tightened, his expression focused with the effort—his hips speeding up and the force of his thrusts increasing until the sound of his cock fucking inside filled the small cabin, almost louder even than their heavy breathing. Anakin’s tits were bouncing with each rough thrust.

They were staring at each other, their eyes locked as Obi-Wan fucked him, and Anakin felt so overwhelmed, it was all so perfect. One of Obi-Wan’s hands moved to rub Anakin’s clit quickly and Anakin’s eyes rolled back in his head, mouth falling open with a moan. He instinctively lifted his hands to squeeze his chest, pinching his nipples, trying to recreate what had made him come before. 

“Anakin, fuck,” Obi-Wan panted, his fingers pressing harder. “Good boy, so good for me.”

Anakin whimpered in reply, another orgasm was building quickly, and it was a deeper, more intense and complicated feeling than the first, the combination of sensation creating a sparkling constellation of pleasure that was humming with electricity—he felt so close, so close. 

“Look at me,” Obi-Wan ordered, and Anakin opened his eyes, looking up desperately. Obi-Wan looked wrecked, his cheeks red, eyes dark, hair disheveled. “You’re going to come on my cock.”

“Yeah?” Anakin panted, rolling and squeezing his nipples. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan informed him, his fingers rubbing just right.

Anakin blinked at him, biting his lip, his voice so breathy and sweet. “Now?”

Obi-Wan smiled at him crookedly and nodded, his eyes bright, and he was so perfect in that moment, his arousal bright and addictive in the Force. Anakin clenched down on his cock, and Obi-Wan groaned, his thrusts becoming rougher and slower, his fingers stroking just right. “You’re perfect, Anakin, you feel so good to me, dear one, you take it so well, such a good boy for me.”

Anakin moaned, overwhelmed—the praise felt something like a concussion grenade in his brain. One more thrust and one more perfect stroke against his clit and he was coming, hips rocking down on Obi-Wan’s cock—Obi-Wan was fucking him through it, and the pleasure was perfect, so intense.

Obi-Wan went still as Anakin’s orgasm ended, his face tight with effort of holding back his own. “Don’t you want to come, Master?” Anakin asked, breathless. He rocked his hips, fucking himself on Obi-Wan’s cock, making Obi-Wan exhale hard and grab his hips tighter. 

“I want you to come one more time first,” Obi-Wan said, his voice rough and low. He pulled out, and Anakin whined and pouted at the loss. “I also want to take off my clothes, you pest.”

“Yes, all right,” Anakin said magnanimously, relaxing back against the bed and putting his hands behind his head, ready for the show. His back-to-back orgasms made him feel more than slightly intoxicated, and it was wonderful—all of his earlier angst felt a million miles away. “Take it off.”

Obi-Wan grinned at him, shaking his head affectionately. His clothes came off quickly, creating a small pile on the floor next to Anakin’s. He kicked off his boots with a satisfied sound that made Anakin smile and move a hand down to absently rub his clit. He was so hyper-sensitive, but he could keep playing with himself lightly without it being uncomfortable, it was so different and nice.

Finally, Obi-Wan was naked, one hand holding his flushed cock, and the other making a spinning motion. “Turn over.”

“Yeah?” Anakin raised his eyebrows and obeyed, turning to lay lengthwise in the bed and rolling onto his stomach. He looked back over his shoulder as Obi-Wan crawled on the bed behind him, kneeling between his legs. “Don’t want to see my pretty face?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.” His palms came to rest on the curves of Anakin’s ass, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin between. He squeezed, and made a satisfied sound, before moving on, his hands sliding up, his thumbs tracing the ridge of Anakin’s spine. “Your back is so beautiful, Anakin. It’s the same as it was… your skin is… I don’t think you understand.” 

“You…” Anakin looked back at him with wide eyes, feeling a surge of insecurity. “You liked it before? Not just now that I’m… different?” Obi-Wan gave him another look like he was stupid, and Anakin blushed. “I didn’t think you did.”

“I have been aware of your beauty, yes,” Obi-Wan said fondly, and Anakin couldn’t believe it.

“But you never…”

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, sitting back on his heels. “What we’re doing now is astonishingly inappropriate behavior, Anakin. We shouldn’t be doing it at all.”

“You’re right,” Anakin said breathily, and he spread his legs wider and rocked his hips forward, opening himself up and offering himself to Obi-Wan to fuck. Knowing that Obi-Wan had wanted him before, not just now, meant everything to him. He looked back over his shoulder with a clear invitation in his eyes. “We shouldn’t.”

“Fuck, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his cock and looking almost desperate to get back inside, and Anakin felt powerful, important, wanted.

He sighed and pouted with mock sadness, rolling his hips impatiently. “You probably shouldn’t come inside me, even if I want you to, so you’re going to have to come on me. Or in my mouth, Master?”

Obi-Wan made a low noise and leaned forward, swiftly lining up his cock and thrusting it inside, making Anakin moan loudly. Obi-Wan’s bare chest pressed against Anakin’s back, and Anakin could feel the slight roughness of the hair, the comforting heat and pressure—he loved this new feeling of being covered by Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan kissed his neck beneath his ear and thrust his hips in sharply, fucking him hard. “You’re going to come one more time first.”

Anakin whimpered and nodded, rocking his hips back to find the perfect angle to take Obi-Wan’s cock as deep as possible. Something about this position and the way Obi-Wan was fucking him was hitting somewhere perfect, it felt so impossibly good. He loved feeling crushed against the mattress, Obi-Wan’s hot breath on his neck, arms bracketing his head, completely surrounded by him. 

Obi-Wan abruptly pulled back, and Anakin whimpered in protest. He allowed Obi-Wan to pull him up to his knees, his back swaying out long, cheek still resting on the pillow. Obi-Wan made a low, satisfied sound and began to fuck him again, the angle was so perfect, he was fucking him just right, so good. Obi-Wan ordered roughly, “Touch yourself.”

Anakin hummed agreement, and reached back to stroke his clit, intoxicated by feeling the hardness of Obi-Wan’s cock as it slid inside right next to where he was touching. It hurt his neck slightly to keep his head turned to watch, but he had to see, Obi-Wan looked so close to coming, and it was the best thing he’d ever seen. 

“This feels so good, Master,” Anakin almost slurred his words, his fingers slipping over his clit, so wet, lost in the pleasure of it. “Love it so much.” He was proud of himself for catching and changing the last phrase before it got him in trouble. “It feels amazing. You’re so amazing.”

“You need to either shut up, or come,” Obi-Wan ground out, hips not losing their rhythm. 

“Hmm,” Anakin hummed agreeably, rubbing his clit faster. It was so easy to get to the cresting edge of orgasm again, he was already so close—this whole multiple orgasms thing was great, almost worth the change. At least there was something good about his new body, some redeeming quality, plus Obi-Wan was fucking him.

Obi-Wan was fucking him. His Master. Finally. Yes.

One last perfect thrust and Anakin groaned, tightening around Obi-Wan’s cock and coming again, his eyes squeezing closed and toes curling with intense pleasure, his whole body tense and shuddering with the waves of his orgasm. 

“Yes, good, yes,” Obi-Wan said, and he sounded immensely relieved. He pulled out, and Anakin forced his eyes open to watch, determined to commit to memory the image of Obi-Wan jerking his cock quickly and then going tense. It was perfect—how Obi-Wan’s hot, wet come spilled out, covering Anakin’s ass with streaks of white. 

Obi-Wan groaned loudly as he finished, squeezing the tip to get it all and then sitting back heavily on his heels again, looking exhausted and astonished. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Obi-Wan leaned forward to collapse next to Anakin on the narrow bed, scooting onto his back and pulling Anakin onto his chest. 

Anakin let him move him wherever he wanted, blissful and at peace with his proximity, dirty with his come. His chest felt weird crushed against Obi-Wan’s, but he assumed he would get used to that sensation quickly. If this ever happened again. His eyes snapped open and he looked at Obi-Wan with concern.

“We’re good,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down his spine. His fingers dipped into some of the come that had spilled higher up on Anakin’s lower back, and he brought it up to Anakin’s mouth. Anakin hummed happily and tasted it, sucking on his fingers and relaxing back against Obi-Wan’s chest. He felt nearly asleep.  

“Three isn’t very many,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. Anakin rolled his eyes and huffed, sucking harder on his fingers. “But it’s enough for today.”

Anakin nodded, nuzzling against his chest, happy with the rough texture against his cheek. Obi-Wan kissed the top of his head, and relaxed too. It felt cozy and perfect, none of the earlier stress or anxiety remained. He felt something strange and annoyed in the Force, and then his eyes flew open wide, mouth popping off Obi-Wan’s fingers. “Kriff, I forgot about Ahsoka.”

Obi-Wan froze, and then laughed awkwardly. “I guess you will both need to work on shielding, Padawan.”

Anakin grimaced, and sent a wave of apology in the Force toward the bridge which was met with confused disgust. “We’ll be fine.”

Obi-Wan kissed his hair again, and held him close, exhaling with satisfaction. “Yes, we will.”

Anakin decided on the drive back to the Temple that he hated Coruscant. 

He hadn’t always had such strong, negative associations. It had been so exciting when he was young, and had become a home over the years. He had explored and learned the seemingly infinite city, amazed at the luxury at the top and the squalor in the levels deep below. He’d formed strong bonds with the Temple and the people inside, and had friends at the Senate.

The Temple at least was the same as ever. There was certainly some surprise and whispers when he’d come back that morning from their mission to Mortis, but everyone was respectful to his face. They all treated him the same, with just a little extra interest in their eyes at the change. He was annoyed and embarrassed with the scrutiny of his body, but he knew it was natural for them to be curious. They looked with interest, but without judgment, so it was fine. 

The Senate, on the other hand, had been an absolute nightmare. The Chancellor had been weirdly fascinated, and Padmé was very busy trying to defeat a surveillance bill or something, so she hadn’t had much time to spare. She’d been very nice, but distracted and distant. He’d felt sadder when he left than when he’d come. 

He had parked in a restricted lot, and had assumed that meant that he would be inside the zone where reporters normally weren’t allowed without a pass and an escort. He had apparently been incorrect about that, and had been met with a pack of them by the doors as he tried to leave. How did they kriffing know he would be there?

Their curiosity felt different than the curiosity of the Jedi. It was cruel and greedy, like they felt entitled to know everything that had happened to him, all the private details of his body. They had shouted so many questions and made so many comments about what a pretty girl he was now, such a beautiful woman. They’d hounded him for responses, and waved their holorecorders in his face.  

He shuddered, accelerating and weaving around traffic, hurrying back to the Temple. He wanted to hide somewhere that nobody could see him, and nobody could gasp at his changed face, or stare at his chest, looking for the curves that he had made sure weren’t there, already flattened as much as possible with a bandage wrap lifted from the medbay. He’d hidden in his usual bulky tabards, just with a new pair of pants that fit his stupid hips. 

He squeezed his thighs together, trying to feel the tiny amount of residual soreness that was proof that Obi-Wan’s cock had been inside him the day before, just like he’d wanted for so long. It soothed and distracted him to remember, though he still had trouble believing the memories weren’t just vivid imagination. Obi-Wan fucking him had awoken a flood of fantasies that he’d mostly repressed before, but now it all felt possible.

He braked hard and slipped inside the Temple hangar, parking his speeder in the spot that the mechanics had resignedly set aside for his projects. He patted R2 on the head fondly before threading his way through the busy evening traffic to the lifts, blushing slightly as he raised eyebrows among those who noticed and recognized him. The urge to run and hide came again, but he just kept walking as steadily as he could. 

It was a small mercy that the lift came quickly and he managed to get one alone. He moved faster and faster, the closer he got to Obi-Wan’s room. The way that the reporters had looked at him clung to his skin, making him dirty in some intangible way that he couldn’t brush off. That sense of wrongness and uncleanness was rising in him, woven together with panic. Obi-Wan. He needed Obi-Wan.

He burst through the door of Obi-Wan’s room, all of the messy emotions that he’d done so much work to keep contained in public were fighting to come loose. He hurt deep inside, aching in a new place he hadn’t even known could hurt. Obi-Wan looked up sharply from his datapad, his surprise melting into concern almost immediately. 

“Anakin, are you—” 

Anakin felt pulled toward him like he was trapped in a tractor beam. Maybe he was allowed, maybe things were different enough that he could… Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he approached, but he opened his arms when he realized what he was about to do, and Anakin was able to crawl onto his lap, straddling him and hugging his neck, clinging to his chest. 

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, clearly a bit overwhelmed by going from peaceful reading to having a lapful of distressed Anakin. He reflexively laid his hand on Anakin’s back in support, holding him close, his growing concern evident as a warm eddy in the Force. 

Anakin slumped against him, both with his body and his mind, and tried to forget everything. “I’m fine now.” 

Obi-Wan laughed quietly. “You’re not fine.”  

“I’m not fine,” Anakin agreed with a shrug, burying his face in Obi-Wan’s neck and inhaling—his skin, his hair, and his clothes all smelled so familiar and comforting, and a painful tangle of emotion unknotted itself in Anakin's stomach. He took another deep breath through his nose, relieved, safe, home.

Obi-Wan kissed his temple, holding him close. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Anakin swallowed thickly, pushing away the slimy memories.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s voice was a low rumble that sent a thrill down Anakin’s spine. 

All his distress was melting and morphing rapidly into a different kind of emotion. Obi-Wan was so warm, his chest was so broad and strong, and he smelled so good. Anakin pressed against him, gently kissing his neck and whispering. “Can we…?”

“Can we what?” Obi-Wan asked warily, his hand going still where it had been rubbing his back.

Anakin kissed his neck again, sucking a little bit harder, and an idea that had been churning in the back of his mind ever since they’d fucked on the ship leapt forward. He rolled his hips slightly, rubbing against Obi-Wan’s stomach and reached back for Obi-Wan’s hand, moving it lower. “Can we? Like if I was still…”

Obi-Wan inhaled shakily when Anakin slid his hand down to cup his ass. “You want…” 

“Yes…” Anakin said, rocking against him with a whimper as Obi-Wan’s fingers tightened. “Please?”

Obi-Wan squeezed one more time before sliding his hand up his back, voice rough and slightly apologetic. “Your control with the Force is nowhere near good enough to do that here without alerting the entire Temple, you know that.”

Anakin frowned, pulling back and sitting up, rolling his hips again against Obi-Wan’s lap and seeking pressure against his clit. Obi-Wan exhaled hard and grabbed his hips, holding him still with a warning look, and Anakin held eye contact, trying to communicate the intensity of his need. “Can we go somewhere else, then?”

“You really want to do this,” Obi-Wan said slowly, studying his face and brushing against him in the Force. His expression was caught between troubled and aroused. “Go where?”

“Away from here…” Anakin shrugged. 

Obi-Wan blinked, taken aback. “Are any of the Jedi giving you problems?”

“No, no, of course not. I just…” He rocked his hips, fighting Obi-Wan’s hold to rub against him again, finding his cock and sliding against it, moaning quietly. “I need it.”

Obi-Wan swallowed a groan as he pushed Anakin back, and Anakin felt a swoop of victory at feeling that his cock was getting hard. It felt so good to rub against him, kriff. “You know it won’t feel the same as it would have.” 

“I know, but… please.”  

“To be clear,” Obi-Wan said, looking him directly in the eye. “You want me to take you away from the Temple, take you somewhere secret here on Coruscant, and fuck you in the ass?”

Anakin’s face burned, his hips rocking, the sound of Obi-Wan saying it out loud making him feel so wet. “Yes.”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan said crisply, setting down his datapad and pushing Anakin back.

Anakin stood up, blinking quickly with surprise at not having to argue further. “Really? Don’t you have work?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Obi-Wan stood up, and Anakin wrinkled his nose at being slightly shorter than him now. Stupid, stupid female body. Obi-Wan laughed at him, kissing him on the forehead and pushing past him toward his room, coming out with credits and lube. Obi-Wan had lube? “I’m not a droid, Anakin.” 

“I know, I just…” 

Obi-Wan grabbed his cloak, throwing it around his shoulders. His tone was lofty and patronizing, an exaggeration of his familiar teaching voice. “There are times where I will always choose to put duty first, as would any Jedi. That level of commitment is not always required during one’s free time, Anakin. We are seekers, not saints.” 

Anakin couldn’t help but grin as Obi-Wan opened the door, lifting a hand to gesture that Anakin should leave before him. “That all sounds a little different than what you taught me before, Master.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, pushing his hair back, expression almost haughty. “As a student, you were always occupied with learning. You didn’t have free time. You had rest hours between lessons.” 

“Ah, I see.”

Obi-Wan dropped the tone, his voice genuine and quiet as they waited alone for the lifts. “We do have free time now, Anakin. We don’t have to be anywhere or do anything, so of course I’d choose you over reviewing briefings.”

Anakin smiled shyly, leaning against his side. “I’m glad.” Obi-Wan smiled, a hand coming up to his back before dropping, remembering where they were. 

They were silent as the car descended, the mutual awareness of where they were going and what they were going to do bloomed into that silence, creating a tension that Anakin felt physically like an ache. He was so aware of Obi-Wan and the space between them. He jumped when the doors opened and spilled in the familiar sound and smell of the hangar.

He marched quickly toward his speeder, feeling strange to have Obi-Wan beside him. It was not at all unusual for them to be seen together, he’d only been Knighted a few years past, but inside his mind, everything had changed about them leaving to spend time alone. He asked as casually as he was able, “Where to?”

Obi-Wan sounded unperturbed. “Let’s go by Dex’s. I’m familiar with that neighborhood and then…” 

Anakin shot him an amused look, sliding into the pilot’s seat. “You want to eat there after, don’t you?”

“If we’re leaving the Temple anyway…” Obi-Wan settled beside him and shrugged. “It’s been awhile.”

Anakin smirked and started up the speeder, carefully exiting the hangar before darting out into traffic. Coruscant was beautiful at night, a glowing sea of lights surrounding them in all directions. It was between rush hours, and he was able to wind his way between speeders at a reasonable pace, out of respect for Obi-Wan’s sense of composure. 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan broke the comfortable silence, and Anakin tensed. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering, Anakin pressed his lips together and reflexively accelerated, dipping under a hoverbus and curling around two lanes of traffic, weaving between levels to merge smoothly with traffic going the opposite direction. Obi-Wan glared at him, a hand braced on the door. 

Anakin smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Master.”

“Honestly, Anakin, you cannot—”

“There were HoloNet people outside the Senate, okay?” Anakin said, with a twisting, churning sensation in his stomach, reminded him of his unhappiness. He drove more carefully, his knuckles white on the steering controls. “Reporters, you know, just like I thought. They said…”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan exhaled heavily, his indignation ebbing away until he radiated steady concern in the Force, warm and protective. “Don’t let their words linger in your mind, Anakin.”

“It’s not even the words, really.” Anakin grumbled, searching his memory for the correct exit to take. “I’m a novelty to them now, not a Jedi, not a General, not a person. It doesn’t matter who I really am or what I feel or think or…” He trailed off, and Obi-Wan tried to diagnose the problem, as astute as usual. 

“They’re talking to an idea of you, not you, and it's insulting?” 

Anakin swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Obi-Wan sighed and rested a hand on his leg, squeezing his thigh. “I am sorry.” 

“Thanks,” Anakin said quietly, wishing Obi-Wan’s hand would slide back and—

“Oh, you missed it,” Obi-Wan said sharply, and Anakin blinked and flipped the speeder around. He ignored Obi-Wan’s unimpressed yelp and dodged some traffic, wordlessly following Obi-Wan’s pointed directions toward Dex’s neighborhood, his excitement and nerves beginning to coil in his stomach. 

He parked the speeder in a covered lot, at Obi-Wan’s insistence, and watched impatiently as Obi-Wan fed the credits into the stall. They had places to be, and things to do, Obi-Wan, just because they could do things properly didn’t mean they HAD to, come on…  

“This way,” Obi-Wan said, leaking fond exasperation in the Force. 

He led Anakin to a nearby hotel, absently telling a story about a suspect that he’d caught there many years before that Anakin had almost certainly heard before. He made quiet noises when he was expected to, and it was a soothing way to pass the time, the familiar pattern of their banter more important than what was actually being said.  

Obi-Wan paid the droid at the front desk for a room, sliding credits across and taking the key, his story trailing off before it was done. Their eyes met and Anakin swallowed, the hair on his arms lifting as a shiver went down his spine at his intent stare. “Yes?”

“You’re sure?”

Anakin rolled his eyes and snagged the key out of Obi-Wan’s hand, leading the way to the room, the space between them almost instantly thickening as they walked together, neither willing to move far enough apart to make their arms stop brushing against each other. 

He shakily unlocked the door to the small room, turning on the lights and looking around. It was certainly not luxurious, but it wasn’t grimy either, occupying a slightly antiseptic middle ground that was almost pleasantly neutral in its sterility. The neatly made double bed caught and held his attention, and he pressed his thighs together. 

Obi-Wan locked the door behind them, and Anakin flushed, the finality and intent implied in the noise washing over him. They were alone. They were going to fuck. His heart raced as he watched Obi-Wan carefully hang up his cloak, and turn to face him, taking off his belt and tossing the lube on the bed. “Anakin?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

“Take your clothes off.”

“Oh,” Anakin blinked, shaking his head to wake up. “Right.”

He mechanically removed his belt and shrugged off his tabards, setting them aside on the small desk. He took a few breaths for courage before untying his tunic, pulling it off too. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in surprise as he revealed his wrapped chest. “Is that comfortable?”

“More than the alternative,” Anakin shot back, tense and snappy, crossing one arm across his squashed breasts. He scowled at the floor, hating the reminder of everything that had changed—everything that was wrong. 

Obi-Wan came closer, holding up his hands in an unarmed gesture, so warm and soothing in the Force. “I apologize if that was insensitive.”

“It’s fine,” Anakin said quietly, not fighting as Obi-Wan gently moved his arm away from his chest so that he could see. He lifted a hand to lightly stroke against the material, a line appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned. 

“Is this medical tape?”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, lifting and dropping his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. “It’s not really comfortable at all, but I don’t like it without…”

“I imagine not,” Obi-Wan said gently.

He inspected the sticky wrap to see how it was fastened, and then carefully began to pick at it. He deftly began to unwrap the binding, and Anakin moaned with relief as it came free, sliding away. Obi-Wan’s eyes fixed on his mouth before flicking up, and his pupils were already blown so wide with desire. Kriffing hell. 

Anakin took a deep, unconstrained breath, almost high with the pleasure of no longer feeling crushed. Obi-Wan’s hand stroked up and down his back, sliding around to soothe his ribs, cupping his breasts with supportive pressure, gently rubbing with his thumbs.  “Is that any better?”

“Yes,” Anakin sighed, leaning into his hands, his eyes fluttering closed. “So much.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, and Anakin opened his eyes. They were so close. “We’ll find a solution for this that doesn’t hurt you, I promise.”

Anakin nodded again and then impulsively closed the distance between their faces, pushing forward and kissing him. Obi-Wan made a low noise of approval, gathering and holding him close, kissing him back. It was such a relief to fall into the sensation, and let the rest of the galaxy slide away. He whined with complaint when Obi-Wan pushed him back.

“Hey!”

“Patience,” Obi-Wan said, a fond smile on his face that made Anakin squeeze his thighs together again, so aware that he was getting wet. “We are going to do this right.”

“Are we?” Anakin asked, tugging on Obi-Wan’s tunic. It wasn’t fair for him to be topless and Obi-Wan still covered up. 

Obi-Wan smiled at him, stroking his fingers along his collarbone. “What you want from me is not something we can do right away, not if you are going to enjoy it, and it’s very important to me that you enjoy it, Anakin.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asked shakily.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed crisply, dropping his hand. “Which is why you’re going to have to be patient. You’re going to come first, hopefully several times.”

Anakin licked his lips and swallowed down a whine. “Fine.”

Obi-Wan nodded with approval and then carefully unfastened Anakin’s pants, pushing them down, undressing him until he was completely naked. Anakin couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, Obi-Wan’s warm, strong hands on his skin felt so good. He jumped when Obi-Wan slid a finger between his legs and smiled with satisfaction when it came away wet. 

He tipped his head toward the bed. “Go lie down.”

Anakin obeyed immediately, bouncing down on the bed and stretching out. He waited for Obi-Wan to take off his clothes and join him, and pouted when he did not. Instead he sat down on the desk chair across the room, and Anakin stared at him, confused and offended. 

“Spread your legs,” Obi-Wan smiled, and there was a burning, hungry gleam in his eyes. “Get yourself off.”

Anakin blinked, his ears ringing. “What?” 

“Have you touched yourself since the change?”

Anakin gave him an incredulous look, his eyes wide. “Haven’t had much time for that.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan said slowly, his voice rich with satisfaction. He absently rubbed his palm against his thigh, and Anakin could see the shape of his cock in his pants. Why was he holding back? “Show me what you would do alone.”

“Oh…” Anakin said, feeling so hot. He didn’t know where to start. “Okay.”

“Spread your legs,” Obi-Wan repeated the instruction, sensing his confusion. 

Anakin swallowed and opened his legs wider, bending his knees and sliding his feet up and out, showing himself to Obi-Wan. “Like this?”

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan murmured, his eyes fixed on where Anakin was tentatively exploring between his legs. His voice was getting deeper, raspier. “Rub yourself for me now.”

Anakin whimpered and nodded, fingertips gathering some of his wetness and bringing it up, using it to press hard and circle around his clit. It felt so good, his head dropped back, his back arching. He tested several different combinations of fingers, different speeds and pressures, until he found the perfect way to touch himself, his toes curling and eyes squeezing closed. It felt so good.

He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him the entire time, and it made everything seem bigger, more intense, like it was a performance. He was stuck on the idea that Obi-Wan, his Master, had his eyes on his fingers, looking between his legs with so much desire, his face and neck flushing red, his pants were now open and hard cock in hand.

“Finger yourself,” Obi-Wan said, intent and low. 

Anakin nodded, and his breathing was so shallow, he felt like he was drowning. He made eye contact, and the connection went through him like a spike, his hips rocking as he pushed a finger inside himself, and then quickly adding a second. It wasn’t enough.  

“Master, I need more,” he begged, looking over desperately, his fingers moving faster, sliding inside over and over, fast and sloppy enough that he could hear it. The sound made him feel like he was burning up with arousal and embarrassment. He added a third, curled them, fucked them in hard and then groaned when it still wasn’t enough. “Please, come here…”

“And do what?” Obi-Wan’s low, teasing voice washed over him, and Anakin could hear his smile. As if he didn’t know. 

He growled, curling his fingers again, heel of his hand pressing against his clit, his free hand squeezing one of his breasts, pinching a nipple. He was getting so close, but he needed more. He shot Obi-Wan a dark look. “You could start by kissing me.”

Obi-Wan grinned and stood up, and Anakin’s breath caught as he finally shed his clothes and joined him on the bed. He crawled over him, grabbing and stopping his hand, pulling his fingers out of his body. Anakin whined in complaint, but Obi-Wan just pushed the hand back against the mattress as he leaned forward to kiss him, lying down in the cradle of his hips.

He was suddenly so close, naked and warm and heavy. Anakin hummed happily and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close and eagerly kissing him. Obi-Wan’s mouth was so soft, his beard so scratchy, his lips tingled as they dragged together. So perfect…

Obi-Wan made a low, pleased noise and licked between his lips, controlling the kiss and deepening it, tasting him, almost taking his mouth. Anakin only clung tighter, his breasts pressed against Obi-Wan’s hairy chest, and Obi-Wan’s hard cock was caught and sliding between his legs. Anakin was wet enough that his thighs shone with it, and Obi-Wan’s cock easily moved along the slick skin. 

Anakin tightened his thighs around his hard length, and Obi-Wan groaned, pulling back, sliding his cock out from between them. “Don’t want me to come yet, remember?”

“Fine, right,” Anakin breathed. He tipped his head back and to the side as Obi-Wan began to kiss down his neck, making the skin beneath his ear tingle and molden heat slide down his spine to pool in his stomach. Obi-Wan sucked gently on the hollow between his collarbones before moving to his nipples, and Anakin groaned with pleasure and frustration, arching his back and spreading his legs. “Master!” 

Obi-Wan hummed with satisfaction, sucking harder. His hands were so large, soft and callused as he cupped Anakin’s breasts, palming and squeezing them gently before his mouth moved down his stomach, lower and lower, until Anakin whimpered. Obi-Wan slid his hands down, following the curved shape of his waist and hips down to grip his thighs, pushing them open even wider. 

Anakin gasped loudly in surprise when Obi-Wan licked his clit, looking up at him with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He repeated the lick, the broad, warm surface of his tongue stroking against him, and it felt incredible, so good, Anakin couldn’t believe it. “Oh, Force.”

Obi-Wan pushed Anakin’s thighs open wider and sucked on his clit again, kissing it before licking around it, exploring and listening carefully to the sounds Anakin was making, coming back again and again to the spots that made him moan the loudest. Anakin couldn’t look away, the sight of his Master’s mouth on him was so arresting, so impossible.

He almost couldn’t believe it as Obi-Wan gently pushed one of his thick fingers inside, filling his aching emptiness, making him gasp. “Yes!”

“You like that?” Obi-Wan asked, voice rough and amused. He added another finger, fucking him gently with them. “How’s that, darling?”

“So good,” Anakin whined, high and breathy, rocking his hips into it. “More, please!”

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan murmured. He smiled and returned his hot mouth to Anakin’s clit, his tongue rubbing and licking so perfectly, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Obi-Wan finally added a third finger, his hand moving more quickly as he slid them in and out. Anakin was quivering on the edge, eyes squeezed closed, and then he suddenly felt a finger from Obi-Wan’s other hand, slick and cool—when did he open the lube?—sliding back and circling, pressing against the sensitive skin of his ass. 

“Oh!” Anakin gasped in surprise, his hips jerking up slightly. Obi-Wan licked his clit harder, his finger working itself gently deeper in his ass, until it finally parted the tight muscle and slid inside, and Anakin was suddenly so full. 

Obi-Wan pulled back, breathing hard, eyes so dark, cheeks red and lips swollen. His voice was almost reverent as he stared down at his fingers, watching them slide inside Anakin’s body. “Your ass is so tight, darling.”

Anakin’s body curled forward as everything broke and clenched, the rolling waves of his sudden orgasm making him shiver. His hands made fists of the sheets, and he let out a long, high moan as he came on Obi-Wan’s fingers that made him blush with embarrassment. Would he ever get used to sounding like that?  

Obi-Wan abruptly rolled him onto his side and grabbed his top leg, bending the knee up and folding it out to the side, spreading his thighs and pushing him down into the mattress. Anakin gasped as Obi-Wan rearranged him, his mind struggling to keep up. 

He moaned loudly as Obi-Wan lined his thick cock up, rubbing the head teasingly against his ass for a moment before moving away, instead thrusting inside where he was soaking wet, easily sinking in deep, filling him up and fucking him through the last trembling aftershocks of his orgasm.

Anakin whined at the first sharp thrusts, finding words with difficulty, reaching through the fog of pleasure to speak. “What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan laughed, pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, making Anakin groan loudly. “I’m fucking you.” 

Anakin turned his head to look back over his shoulder, seeking Obi-Wan’s eyes. “But…”

“But what?” Obi-Wan asked, hips moving quickly, a teasing grin spreading on his face. He knew exactly what. “Say it.”

Anakin pouted, eyes fluttering closed as Obi-Wan fucked him harder. “I wanted you to fuck my ass.”

Obi-Wan kissed his neck and put his mouth next to his ear, his words hot and hushed against his skin, fucking him steadily, his thick cock rubbing against a perfect spot inside. “Don’t worry, darling… I will fuck your ass, but not until you’re ready to take it.”

Anakin couldn’t breathe. He mindlessly rocking his hips back, changing the angle and somehow taking his cock even deeper. Obi-Wan groaned against his skin, and repeated the movement of his hips, thrusting hard and hitting the same spot inside.

Anakin whimpered, it felt so good, but… “Why not now?”

Obi-Wan huffed. “You’re not nearly relaxed enough. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m so relaxed!” 

“One more orgasm and then we’ll see,” Obi-Wan said roughly, and he began to fuck Anakin harder. Anakin’s hand slid under his body against the mattress to find his clit, rubbing quickly and trying to shove himself back up to and then off of the edge in his mind. 

It wasn’t difficult with Obi-Wan’s rough breathing behind him, the heat and weight of him crushing him down, the sound of his hips snapping forward and thrusting his cock smoothly inside, over and over, the jolting pressure of his thick cock fucking him open so perfectly. So good, his Master, fucking him, fuck…

Anakin abruptly found the perfect way to rub his clit, and he whined loudly, coming hard. He made his hand keep moving as Obi-Wan fucked him, pushing through the mounting waves of pleasure until he broke with another, bigger, consuming orgasm, his body shuddering, clenching down on Obi-Wan’s cock—everywhere going tight and releasing with an intense, cresting wave. 

“Good, good boy,” Obi-Wan muttered, letting him come around his cock. 

Anakin whimpered as he finished, and he slumped and spread under Obi-Wan, boneless and relaxed, feeling like a happy puddle underneath his weight. He let out a little involuntary sound of complaint as Obi-Wan pulled out his cock, and cold air replaced the warm, comforting pressure of his chest on his back.

Obi-Wan stroked up and down his spine soothingly, and Anakin whined as cool, slick fingers circled and slid carefully inside his ass, one first and then two. He pushed back against the strange, new sensation, and they slid in deeper. “Very good, darling.”

“Good?” Anakin moaned, the words making him shiver. 

Obi-Wan leaned forward and bit the back of his neck, fingers moving faster. “You are so good at everything you try, Anakin. It’s maddening sometimes.”

Anakin whined in protest. “Why?”

Obi-Wan sucked a mark between his shoulder blades and then began kissing down his spine, his slick fingers gently scissoring and circling around his rim, preparing him to take it. “It felt like you hardly needed me at times.”

“No…” Anakin whined and shook his head, shifting his legs wider. “Always need you…” 

Obi-Wan pulled his fingers out, and kissed the slick skin of his entrance before Anakin could complain, and it felt so good. “Please!”

Obi-Wan made a low noise of agreement and stretched out beside him, lying down on his back. He grabbed Anakin by the hips and rolled him over, pulling him up and over to straddle him, sitting him up in one smooth motion. His hard, wet cock was between Anakin’s legs, and Anakin couldn’t help but roll his hips forward, rubbing his clit against the hard length.

His mouth fell open and he panted, repeating the motion. “Master…”

Obi-Wan guided him to sit up on his knees and lined up his cock with his ass. “Take it, Anakin. As slow as you need—”

Anakin immediately pushed his hips back and down, sinking deep onto his cock. His eyes opened wide as he pushed the blunt length through his tight muscle—Obi-Wan's cock was so much wider than his fingers. He was so full, too full. He let out a little whimper of pain and overstimulation. 

Obi-Wan huffed, grabbing his hips again and squeezing a rebuke. “Slowly, Anakin, you ridiculous boy. Can you do anything patiently?” 

“No,” Anakin whined, but the pain was rapidly ebbing away, and pleasure was rushing in to replace it. It felt so good.

Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force was trembling as he held himself still, letting Anakin adjust. He muttered, fond and annoyed. “Don’t know what I expected, honestly…”

Anakin tentatively slid up and then pushed down harder, taking more. Obi-Wan groaned, his head dropping back. He looked up at Anakin, his eyes so dark and fascinated as Anakin began to fuck himself on his cock.

Anakin flushed, his cheeks burning. “What?”

Obi-Wan’s hands slid up to cup his breasts, squeezing his nipples and making him lose his rhythm, electric pleasure arcing through his body. Obi-Wan squeezed even harder, his hips sinking down and then thrusting up, shoving his cock in even deeper.

Anakin groaned loudly, spreading his legs, leaning forward and lining himself up as best he could. “Do that again!”

Obi-Wan’s palms slid smoothly down his body, following the curve of his waist around his hips down to grab his thighs tightly, holding him in place. “You want it?”

“Please,” Anakin begged, kissing his neck, trembling and waiting. “Obi-Wan, Master, please!”

Obi-Wan groaned and snapped his hips up, fucking hard into him, shoving himself deep inside. The angle was so perfect, his cock slid in and out so smoothly, their hips slapping together, the sound filling the room. Anakin’s breasts were bouncing in front of Obi-Wan’s face, and he sucked on them as he fucked him, murmuring with satisfaction. “So good, take it so well.”

Anakin nodded loosely, he was so relaxed and open, it was so easy to take Obi-Wan’s cock. It was really his rim that was most sensitive, the thick length was spreading him open, stretching and rubbing him, and his clit was getting maddening, teasing pressure against him, and it was so good, it was everything, the only thing that he could feel. 

Obi-Wan stopped abruptly, and Anakin gasped, making an offended noise that made Obi-Wan smile up at him so fondly, Anakin’s heart hurt. “Why did you stop?”

“You wanted it like it would have been before? Without these?” Obi-Wan kissed between his breasts almost sweetly. Anakin whined in approval, rocking back on his cock, and Obi-Wan’s voice was low and intent. “Let me fuck you from behind, then.” 

The words sent a thrill down Anakin’s spine and he nodded shakily. “Should I turn around, or—”

“No, just get off,” Obi-Wan instructed, and Anakin hurried to obey, as much as he could, his whole body feeling weak and shaky. “Stand up for me.”

“Okay,” Anakin unsteadily stood, giving Obi-Wan a curious look as he stood up too. 

Obi-Wan touched his face fondly and then dropped his hand. “Face the bed and bend over.”

Anakin nodded and obeyed, turning and almost flopping down, making Obi-Wan laugh. He pressed his cheek against the sheets, noting that they smelled like sex, the combined scent of his wetness, both their sweat and the lube. It was satisfying on a primal level, so filthy and so good. They were fucking, he was fucking his Master. 

Obi-Wan spanked his ass lightly, his voice deep and husky in a way that made Anakin feel even wetter. “Spread your legs.”

Anakin slid his feet apart, opening himself up as best he could, and Obi-Wan grabbed the soft muscles of his ass, squeezing and spreading him. He made a low, satisfied sound that made Anakin groan and rock his hips in invitation, and Obi-Wan lined himself up and then thrust the thick head back inside. Oh stars, he was big. 

Obi-Wan sounded almost wounded as he flexed his hips forward, burying the length of his cock inside. “Fuck, darling, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” Anakin whined, swallowing and licking his lips, his mouth was so wet. “You like it?”

Obi-Wan’s cock was so big from this angle, Anakin was so impossibly full. He grabbed the blankets to push back against him, arching his back and presenting at the best possible angle, bearing down. Obi-Wan’s cock slid in even deeper, their hips slapping and staying together as Obi-Wan let him adjust to taking it all.

“Perfect, yes, you’re such a good boy for me,” Obi-Wan murmured, rubbing up and down Anakin’s spine, and then grabbing his hair, sliding a hand in and making a fist, tugging it fondly. “Take it so well.”

Anakin couldn’t respond, too overwhelmed as Obi-Wan held his hair and fucked him again faster. All he could do was take it, pushing back and holding himself open and still. Obi-Wan’s quick, short thrusts made him whine every time their hips came together. Obi-Wan groaned and slowed down, sliding deliberately in and out, pushing in deeper.

He pulled harder on Anakin’s hair, wrapping his other hand around the front of his neck, making his back bend and chest leave the bed. Anakin whined and Obi-Wan just fucked him harder, every thrust perfect, smooth, and overwhelming.  

“Master!” The word dropped out of Anakin’s mouth, his eyes were closed, his whole body so tight and ready to shatter. “Please!” 

Obi-Wan let go of his hair, pushing him forward and down again against the bed, one hand holding him down by the back of the neck, shoving his face into the mattress. The other hand slid down and around to lightly brush over Anakin's clit, rubbing with the lightest possible contact.

“More,” Anakin begged, barely able to breathe, everything was trembling and shaking, he was close, he was so close! “Harder!”

Obi-Wan’s thick fingers immediately pressed harder on his clit, his fingertips circling and stroking against the perfect place, exactly in time with the sharp thrusts of his hips. It was so good, too good! Anakin cried out and convulsed around him, coming again hard. It was so intense that he blinked sparks of light out of his vision, struggling to breathe. He eventually stopped shuddering through it and went limp, letting Obi-Wan keep fucking him just as he liked. 

An idea occurred to him, and it was suddenly the most important thought he’d ever had. He wiggled and turned his head to look up at Obi-Wan’s flushed, wrecked face. “Master, come in me, come in my ass, fill me with it, please…”

Obi-Wan groaned, his hips jerking forward roughly and head curling forward, face going tight. He rocked his hips slightly, his hands both moving to grip Anakin’s hips tight, pulling him back hard against his cock as he came deep inside. He exhaled loudly when he finished, his eyes opening soft and hazy. “Anakin.” 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin agreed, a smile curling on his face.

Obi-Wan smiled back, pulling out carefully. Anakin made a displeased sound at feeling so empty, and Obi-Wan slid two of his fingers inside, voice rough. “Keep it a little longer.”

Anakin hummed happily, snuggling against the sheets. “Please.”

The small room was so quiet, Anakin could hear the air recirculating, their heavy breathing getting quieter. It was so peaceful, so pleasant, and everything stressful felt a million parsecs away. Obi-Wan was stroking his back, petting up and down his spine, and it felt so good. 

“Let’s go to the ’fresher,” Obi-Wan suggested after Anakin’s heart rate had finally slowed, sliding his fingers out and making him pout. 

“I can’t move yet.”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan said fondly. Anakin watched as he went to the ’fresher, looking disheveled and unsteady too. His lack of composure made Anakin feel immeasurably proud, and he basked in that feeling of power at making Obi-Wan feel so relaxed. Obi-Wan deserved it. He should always feel good.

Obi-Wan came back to the bed with a small, damp towel, wiping off his hands and gently cleaning up the mess of lube and come between Anakin’s legs. His skin was so sensitive, he gasped as the sensation approached pain, but Obi-Wan was so careful with him, making sure he was clean and undamaged. 

“I’m sorry I got a bit rough with you. I know it was your first time, and—”

“What?” Anakin scoffed, rolling over and sitting up, wincing slightly before finding his balance and a comfortable position. “What exactly is telling you that I didn’t like it?”

Obi-Wan studied him quietly, and then shrugged. “I often care more about your well-being than you do yourself.”

Anakin snorted, and let Obi-Wan pull him up and lead him to the small sonic. He rested his weight against Obi-Wan, curling his arm around his shoulders. Obi-Wan huffed and wrapped his arm around his waist, holding him close. “You are ridiculous. You’re not injured, I just checked.”

“But I’m so tired,” Anakin said, and blinked up through his lashes. “My legs feel weak.”

Obi-Wan’s lip curled up at the side, obviously satisfied with himself. “I suppose that’s a sign that you’ve been well fucked, so I’ll allow it.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, turning on the sonic when they stepped inside and resting his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder as it went through the short cycle, cleaning them both off properly. He was almost asleep when he heard Obi-Wan ask, quiet and earnest, “Was it everything you hoped for?”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, face heating up. “I obviously don’t know how it would have felt really before but… it was still really nice.” 

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan said, and kissed his temple. He pulled them both out of the sonic and threw Anakin’s underwear at him, putting on his own. Anakin put in a minimal effort to catch it, missed, and collapsed on the bed, laying back with a sigh, too tired to pick them up. Obi-Wan looked down at him, a smile spreading on his face.

Anakin smiled back, enjoying the sight of Obi-Wan’s bare chest and strong thighs. “You know it’s funny, I’d had sex before the first time we did, but you’ve still taken my virginity twice. You could technically take it three times, if you wanted.”

Obi-Wan looked at him incredulously. “I want Dex’s, Anakin. Maybe a nap first.” 

“You really don’t want to fuck my mouth?” Anakin grinned lazily. 

“Sith hells,” Obi-Wan pushed him over further, crawling into the bed next to him and tugging him onto his chest. He wrestled with the covers, pulling them over them both and exhaling hard with satisfaction. He held Anakin tight, like a promise, and kissed his hair. “Later.”

“Later,” Anakin smiled, relaxing against him. “I can live with later.”