Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

The Faithful and Ferocious	By : HatefulWitch Category: Star Wars (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3332 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money off of it.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood.
I can't take this another crinking second! He crossed the sitting room in six long strides and arrested his partner's limb with both hands, "You've been at this for fourteen hours."
The wild-eyed Force-sensitive fixedly stared at the vinegar-water cleaner seeping from the ochre synthcloth rag under his hand, "The house is dirty."
"You've cleaned this table nine times in under a minute," the Jedi softly reasoned. He lifted the slender wrist in his grip then gently wrestled the discolored rag from his housemate's tightly-coiled fingers, "It's not dirty anymore."
Anakin surveyed the bleeding droplets of cleaner sprinkled across the tabletop as he blankly mumbled, "The house is dirty."
Obi-Wan worriedly clasped his shoulders and tried to establish eye contact, "It is not dirty. You have cleaned it from top to bottom multiple times. Why do you think it still needs to be cleaned?"
Heat scorched his cheeks and condensation collected in his eyes. His eyelids hastily screwed shut to hide his emotion from his one-man audience, but this did very little to divert the spectator.
Obi-Wan's hands snaked under thin arms to cradle protruding shoulder blades and pull their bodies closer, though he maintained enough distance to keep his friend's expression under observation. Anakin's mood uniformly exacerbated following the Corellia Commission and he still couldn't decrypt what transpired during their separation. All he knew was whatever took place, it managed to catapult the Tatooinian into an increasingly insecure, skittish, cheerless, and manic frame of mind.
If there was any lesson learned in their long history, it was depression stirred with mania always yielded destruction, of the self and otherwise. The delicate situation called for a subdued response, which was why he pled with a voice more saccharine than forest-honey, "Talk to me."
Anakin's flesh hand half-heartedly pushed against the center of his chest, "I don't want to talk."
He rapidly tightened his embrace to disallow a physical retreat, "Talk to me, jaguarete. Please talk to me."
A shuddering shockwave bolted up the right side of the brunette's torso, flaring into his shoulder and neck, when the Jedi's tender fingers caressed his scalp. He finally opened his eyes after blindly nestling his nose against the side of Obi-Wan's head. Could he talk to me and touch me like this if he didn't want me? If he didn't love me?
There were confessedly times when he thought about encroaching on Obi-Wan's feelings. It would be so very easy. He could do it and Obi-Wan wouldn't be any the wiser. On a number of occasions throughout his life, he talked himself up for it, but he never could follow through in the end. Although the skill was a common Jedi practice, it was only something he was able to do with people he didn't have much regard for. He would readily use the Force to surveil the feelings and emotions of residents of the Temple or enemies in war, but Obi-Wan? It felt like a defilement of his best friend's trust. He'd never been able to invade Padmé or Ahsoka's emotions and feelings either.
"I'm right here, Anakin. You know you can confide in me."
He couldn't reveal all the paranoid illogicalities that ran amuck the past five rotations. It ranged from the pornographic to the psychotic and he still couldn't suss out what thoughts were his and what thoughts had been transposed into his head by the dark side. Either way, he decided it best to give Obi-Wan something, "I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin."
"Do you mean you feel anxious?"
Anakin's hands waved emphatically around the other man's head and shoulders, "I feel like I want to run and run and swim in a river and climb on a mountain and scream until I lose my voice. I feel like my brain is trying to break out of my head."
"Do you know why you feel like this?"
"I didn't get any sleep last night and I've been pacing and thinking and I can't sit down. I want to run away."
This specific statement flipped Obi-Wan's stomach. He frantically seized flouncing hands and tightly laced their fingers, "What have you been thinking about?"
That I need to keep the house as clean as I can so you don't realize what a filthy pig dwells in your dwelling. Sapphire eyes clenched closed as they did before, "Everything, everything. I've been thinking about frozen tundra and astrobiology and Luke and Leia, about nucleotide sequences and doped strontium aluminate, about our relationship, about running, running, running, about Shining Man's vitalicron and-"
"Anakin, focus on me," he began taking deep, audible breaths and used their interlocked fingers to lower their hands to their sides. After a moment, the breathing exercise was copied and cautious cerulean eyes opened. He could see upset and overtiredness growing worse and knew it was ideal to treat the exhaustion first. Anakin had been an insomniac for as long as they'd known each other and experience proved that when he was deprived of sleep, he was more inclined to emotional turbulence. Obi-Wan used their knotted hands to lead them through the house. He experienced no problem navigating the immaculately cleaned rooms even though he was not watching where he was going, being completely focused on Anakin, and they quickly arrived at their bed. He released his partner's mechno-hand but still held firm to flesh fingers, "Lay down."
"I'm not tired," the fatigued Forceful irritably tried to yank his hand free.
Obi-Wan held fast, however, and sat on the side of the bed, "I'm tired and I want you to lay with me."
The irregularities in Anakin's breathing were highly noticeable, "You actually want to lay with me?"
Galactic halo, it's even worse than I realized. His eyebrows deeply creased as he stared up in worry and distress, "We sleep in the same bed every night. I would think it'd be obvious I want to lay with you often."Anakin hesitantly sat down beside him and he pressed their shoulders together, "What's making you want to run?"
"I don't know."
"I think you do."
His assertion was only met with a bellicose huff, "Yeah, you know my head better than I do. Or maybe I'm a liar."
The defense mechanism was identified the second it was deployed. He twisted his body, lifting a knee onto the bed, and forcibly rotated Anakin's head towards him, "Why wouldn't I want to lay with you?" He wasn't expecting the tide upon tide of tears that spontaneously began cataracting over pinkened cheeks. Unsurprisingly, his instincts kicked in and he did whatever was necessary to put an end to the weeping. He immediately backed off his interrogation and fiercely wiped at the torrential tears, "Don't cry." When the translucent droplets only seemed to multiply, he rained kisses over a moist cheek and down his darling's slender neck, "Don't cry." His lips retraced the trail it traveled against heated skin a second time, "Let's lay down."
Anakin merely nodded and climbed into the bed. Obi-Wan laid parallel to his bedmate but left about half of an arm's length between their bodies, fearful he would get distracted by things he shouldn't if he got too close. He leaned their foreheads together and laid his hand over the point where the brunette's skull and neck met, "I love you and I hope you know I'd do anything for you. All you have to do is ask."
More anguish tumbled over wringing-wet lashes. If you love me, why are you laying so far away from me?
Anakin's nimbly fluttering eyes made it blatant this sentimental sentiment only caused internal turmoil. Had that not been enough to cleave Obi-Wan's heart into quarters, he felt his soulmate's Living Force viciously spearing into his, just as it did the night he returned from Ahsoka's assignment. He recognized the pain, fury, and detestation in both instances and knew he couldn't let it go unaddressed a second time. He closed his eyes and apprehensively sought a meditative state. Within seconds he found sprigs of fitful energy and latched onto them. He heard a contented moan and the next thing he knew, bough after bough of violent energy impaled, scraped, wrenched on, thrashed, lashed, and strangled his. It was one of the most painful things he'd ever felt. He kept losing his breath as his partner's ferocious Living Force pulverized his in a desperate, furious attempt to bond.
His teeth gnashed into his lip hard enough to bring blood, but he didn't raise an objection. He knew before they started it was going to be punishing, but Anakin needed this. Every time he asked to bond since his return, Anakin had refused. He now saw he should have been more adamant; he should have exaggerated how badly he needed a joint meditation. It's not like he would have been lying if he said he craved their bond. He could have played the role of the one in need. It didn't matter to him as long as his other half didn't go without. Anakin could have needed him to bleed himself dry and he would have given the younger Forceful the choice of weapon. He considered the brutalization of his Living Force a small price to pay to console his overwrought soulmate.
His maxillary teeth pulled his bottom lip over his mandibular teeth after a penetrative shoot of energy stuck into his and dug like a needle in a vein. When he thought the worst was over, ten more sticks sunk in. There was no doubt Anakin was embattled, filled with abhorrence and agony. What did that Force-damn voice say to him in those two rotations to cause this? Obi-Wan felt like they were in a time warp, taken back to when Anakin first arrived and refused to speak to any afflictions. What could he do to reverse whatever malevolence the dark side had bred?
Anakin's energy gradually relaxed the longer they were bonded. There were still prods and pressure, but it became much more tolerable as the minutes ticked by. Only when his Living Force wore itself down and fell docile did Obi-Wan decide to exit their accord. That was no easy task given how entangled their energies were. The Jedi was essentially left to yank and claw his way to liberation. As he awoke from his meditative state, he was unsurprised to find Anakin near unconsciousness. The younger man's eyelids prominently drooped and twitched while the other muscles in his face were slack. Obi-Wan combed his fingers over his incapacitated friend's neck and hair until azure eyes fully closed and deep exhales of sleep circulated the room.
He transiently smiled then rolled onto his back with an aggrieved groan. Sleep would be impossible with the concerns plaguing his mind and the ache throbbing in his Living Force. It didn't help that it was still an hour before dusk. He rolled to his left and gave Anakin a gentle kiss on the cheek then rolled to his right to get out of the bed.
::::
He felt cold. He reached behind him in a sightless search. His eyes slowly pried open and he rolled over. The other side of the bed was empty. Cold and empty. His chest felt hollow. Why did his attempts at improvement always make him more unwanted? Had he been left alone in bed for the same reason Obi-Wan wouldn't move close while they meditated? Had it been getting harder and harder to pretend being close to him was bearable? Somehow, he thought it was worse than that.
He saw the pity when he asked if Obi-Wan actually wanted to lay with him. The answer had been too insistent and pleonastic. A fear that dwarfed anything planted by the voice bloomed at that moment. What if this relationship wasn't to gain control but to give charity? What if Obi-Wan saw a broken spirit and body on Naboo and felt awe-inspiring sympathy? Then as time progressed and he saw how worse for wear his former padawan was, he decided to bestow an ultimate act of philanthropy? It would explain why he let all the erratic emotions and behavior fall by the wayside. It would explain why there was seemingly attachment but no attraction.
Anakin rubbed the back of his wrist against his eye as he sat up. He twisted around to scoot to the side of the bed when he noticed an out-of-place datapad on the bedside table. He leaned forward to pick it up and pressed the large, circular power button to bring it out of sleep mode. As soon as the touch-sensitive screen flickered on, typed, black text glared up at him.
:-:
Anakin,
I'm not very tired and I didn't want to chance disturbing you. I theorize you won't wake up until tomorrow morning, but in the extremely unlikely case you wake up in the next hour, I wanted to let you know I went to visit Luke since I haven't seen him in five rotations. I will be back before Tatoo I clears the horizon.
Love,
Obi-Wan
:-:
Even though there was a sign off, indicating the end of the note, he could see more text at the bottom of the screen. He used his finger to scroll down and read what appeared to be an outpouring of thought.
:-:
You're my best friend. You know that, don't you? You can talk to me about anything. It doesn't matter how mad or disturbing it is. You can say anything you need to to me. I hate to see you hoarding so much pain that you can't even speak. Give me your pain. If you need to yell at me, that's fine. If you need to break a holotrace device, that's fine. Whatever it said to you, don't let it fester like an infected wound on your mind, energy, and soul. Banish it. I know you have the strength to tell it to get behind you. My faith in you will never be lost, so don't lose faith in yourself.
Don't lose faith in me either. I love you.
:-:
He laid the datapad down on the bed with his eyes fixed on the words trying to stitch their way onto his heart. He took a deep breath when he fathomed, "By the Original Light, does this count as a cutesy note?"
It probably didn't, but he was going to pretend it did.
"Fuck it all."
::::
He was only trying to do something nice after what a massive pill he'd been lately. He still wasn't sure what motivated Obi-Wan's behavior in regards to him and their relationship, but he decided he needed to try not to focus on it so much. After reading the Cutesy Card, he realized how disjointed he'd become from the cold hard facts. He loved Obi-Wan regardless of any and everything and he needed their relationship more than food. He didn't want to keep creating distance and obstacles between them because if he kept pushing until he lost Obi-Wan, it would kill his spirit. He wasn't ready to pour his heart out yet, but he was certainly ready to show his love had not altered. He determined the best way to start was to do something nice.
Obi-Wan did their laundry every three rotations, never a word, never a complaint. He decided he would offer to start hanging the clothes out to dry, that way they were equally splitting up the work of laundry duty. The older Forceful accepted without a fuss and on his first day- his first day- with his new task, he got distracted hanging the clothes on the line and tripped over the laundry basket! That in itself wasn't the issue. The issue was the clothesline was outside. Which meant the laundry basket was outside, on the ground, in the sand. And now sand was stuck all over the wet clothes. He was sure he was suffering a subdural hematoma before he finally calmed down enough to put the clothes back into the laundry basket and stomp to the back of the house.
With clenched teeth, he dragged the beryllius basin from beside the water pump to the spigot mounted against the back of the house and filled it with water. Then he furiously threw clothing piece by piece onto the ground and used the spigot to clean out the sand-speckled basket. He crouched down to grab a sand-encrusted tabard and dunk it into the basin, avidly scrubbing the light fabric against itself, "You're the fucking reason this planet is so rotten. If you didn't exist, I could be a happy man. I could live my life in peace. I could have had a happy childhood. I would have never known the grating grit taste of silica. I could have clean fucking laundry. I could live near a body of hydrogen oxide. I could sleep at night and love the outdoors and sit on the ground and be a better father and walk like a normal fucking human being."
A slurping sound brought his attention over his left shoulder and he found his housemate lowering a cup of what was presumably tea from amusedly smiling lips.
"I was-"
"I know."
"I hate-"
"I know."
"How-"
"The whole time."
"How-"
"All of it."
"Whatever!" He dismissively waved his hand behind his back, "This is not the weirdest thing you've ever seen or heard me do. Go about your business."
There was a slight pause before the laughter-laced comment, "Don't worry, Anakin, I still love you even though an inanimate chemical compound drives you to brief psychotic episodes."
Obi-Wan then turned and strolled back around the corner of the house. However, his cavalier derision hit a nerve and prompted his old padawan to chase after him, "This, coming from a man who loses his suffering Sith shit when someone gets petroleum oil near him!"
He turned with a hand on his hip and his cup held chin-high, "You didn't get it near me. You threw it on me."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"No."
His eyebrows rose with his patronizing laughter, "Yes, you did."
Anakin simulated the laugh directed at him, "Fuck off, I did not."
The blonde leaned forward defiantly, "Yes, you did."
The brunette mirrored the action, "I did not."
The older Force-sensitive scoffed, "Yes, you did. And we were in front of all those clones in the hangar, so I had a right to- where are you going?"
Anakin turned on his heel to march to the back of the house. He picked up a sealed canister of petroleum oil from the steel muscle rack next to the generator and his mechno-fingers clamped through the plastene lid. As he turned back towards the side of the house, he ripped the lid completely off and carelessly tossed it to the ground. Before he turned the corner, he hid the canister behind his back and folded his unhampered hand behind his back as well so he wouldn't raise alarm as he made his way along the wall.
Obi-Wan only realized the sticky situation when Anakin came abnormally close and speedily whipped his arm from behind his back. The Jedi barely got the chance to halfway lift his hands and screech Anakin Skyw- before oil was tossed right at his face. The slippery black substance coated his hair, face, and clothing instantly. He couldn't see past the viscous liquid but could hear his imp of a partner's uncontrollable laughter. After the shock wore off, he wiped his hands over his face to remove the excess oil, "You…tun'tiv!" He wiped his face a second time only to uncover a clear view of one Tatooinian's self-satisfied smirk. He made a noise of disgust and irritation, "What was the purpose of that? I'll never get these stains out!"
"Oh, Obi-Wan, are you having a brief psychotic episode over silly little inanimate chemical compounds?"
The clearly amused mischief-maker didn't try to run when he closed the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around Anakin's waist as his oil-doused hand gripped the taller man's neck. He rubbed his begrimed hair and face all over his friend's face, who only laughed at the blithe revenge. Once Obi-Wan was finished with his oil painting, he looked right into cobalt eyes and dotingly declared, "You're insufferable."
Anakin smiled with his teeth, "I'm insufferable."
Obi-Wan shook his head in aggravation. That smile got him. To see such a joyful expression after the last week, he knew he couldn't be irate. Anakin could do anything under the suns and get away with it as long as he had that heart-melting smile. His nose bumped against the brunette's, "Intolerable."
"Intolerable," Anakin agreed, his smile remaining though growing less toothy. His arm slithered over Obi-Wan's shoulder as he felt the fever in their energies, in their gaze, in their closeness rising. Am I imagining this?
"Impossible," the blonde mindlessly focused more on the warmth of the skin against his than what he was saying.
He was enthralled by the low snicker that danced in his ears, "You're just repeating yourself."
They were having a relatively normal conversation when he'd become captivated by Anakin's glowing beauty and how much he wanted to worship that beauty. As he stared at the man's smiling, succulent mouth, only one thing spiraled around his brain: How many years have you fantasized about pinning me down, Obi-Wan? He suddenly didn't feel like being so close and took a step back to put some distance between them. He couldn't deny there were times like now when he recalled the night in the Sea and replayed what the voice said to him through Anakin, but it was only a trigger. It wasn't the legitimate reason he refrained from a sexual relationship with his soulmate. There were two well-thought-out reasons for this refrain.
The first reason was the semi-perpetual condition of tumult. Anakin often got caught up in paranoia and misinterpreted his actions or words. There must be conclusive balance and preparedness between them before they could initiate any physical connection. If any distrust or indictment surrounded their lovemaking, he wouldn't be able to handle it. The second reason was the refusal to give the impression he was only in this for sex. They hadn't even been together for a month yet. He didn't want Anakin to think he fought so valiantly for a relationship between them just so he could get off.
His voice was cool and measured, careful not to indicate his unease, when he teased, "Why do you always have to give me such a hard time, huh?"
Anakin stepped forward to close the distance separating them, not wanting to lose whatever was building between them. His heart was on fire with hope and anticipation when he teased back, "I have to get my kicks somewhere."
Obi-Wan took another step back with a raised brow, "Well, I hope your kick was worth it because you're cleaning these clothes."
"Hm, I don't think so. I can burn them for you though," he stepped forward a second time.
Cue the third step back, "Think again."
"It's no problem," he reached the forefinger of his flesh hand out and hooked it in the top of a tan tunic, mildly tugging at it, "Undress. I will take them out over the bluff now and start a bonfire."
Obi-Wan clutched the playful finger and pushed it towards its owner, "You really are the most insufferable, intolerable, impossible-"
His forsaken hand reached out and grasped the back of Obi-Wan's neck to tug the greasy Jedi into a feral kiss. The oil caused the contact to be somewhat awkward, between the slipperiness and the taste, but the true discomfort came when a mechanical hand began to slide under beige and tan tunics. Obi-Wan pulled away entirely and paced backwards, though he tried to make everything seem normal when he professed, "I need to soak these clothes, you hellcat."
Anakin's heart burned to cinders as he watched the object of his affections round the corner of the house. What happened? He knew their fight wasn't real. If that was the case, the jokes and close proximity wouldn't have occurred. Their energies were reaching out for each other's instinctively; they wanted each other. Didn't they? Obi-Wan appeared to have gotten so lost in the feeling he basically kept repeating himself. What happened? Was it a joke? Did his partner not care how much pain this caused him?
He probably realized fucking you meant he'd have to actually touch you.
Shut up.
He would have to touch those cold, metal attachments. He leapt out of his skin when your cybernetic hand crept near him.
Shut up.
Do you think he wants to touch them? For them to touch him? I wonder if he would enjoy metal wrapped around his waist or having his dick ripped off by your quote, unquote right hand.
Shut up!
Do you think your prosthetics arouse him or do you suppose he can only focus on how disproportionate and freakish you look?
Leave me alone.
You're coated in scars, you're a sickening skeleton, your eyes are soulless voids. You only have one natural limb. No man wants that, lamb, no man. Do not fret though. None of that matters in the abyss. So, come. Seek solace in the yawning blackness.
I don't need solace from you. I hate you! Leave me alone!
He sat down on the ground with his back against the concrete wall of the house.
The voice didn't leave him alone.
::::
By the time he noticed Anakin wasn't inside, he'd already taken a shower, changed his clothes, and gathered up his dirty ones to throw in the basin out back. His oil-stained garments were wadded up in his right hand when he made his way to the same side of the house he left Anakin on. The pensive man sat with his legs arched and his folded arms tucked in against his stomach. Obi-Wan silently approached the brooding brunette and lowered to the uneven ground a couple feet away. He placed his soiled linens in the sand next to him and leaned his back to the concrete. He thought conversation would only come by demand, but after a couple minutes, Anakin's black-painted face swiveled towards him, "What are words you would use to describe me?"
"Is this a trick question?"
"What kind of trick would I be trying to pull over that would necessitate you to list the adjectives you associate with me? Would I be trying to trick you into thinking I'm writing a personal essay on what you think of me?"
"What? No, I meant is this one of those questions that is seemingly harmless but is actually incredibly weighted?"
"Not everything I say is life or death. Now get on with it," Anakin emotionlessly assured with eyes fixed on the amber skyline.
"Impatient."
He mordantly smiled, "Funny."
A grin graced Obi-Wan's lips, "Funny, yes, humorous. Intelligent, extraordinarily so. Ill-mannered, brooding, belligerent, very sweet." When he received an unimpressed stare, he insisted, "I mean it. Strong-willed, spiteful, self-destructive, vicious, charming, charismatic, gifted, selfish." Seeing the slight fall in angle of his friend's head, he was quick to tack on, "Unselfish, thoughtful. Hypersensitive, reactive, aware, wild, reckless, noisy, volatile. Loving, fearless, overconfident, ardent." He finished with what he felt epitomized his beloved as a whole, "Alive."
"Nothing else?"
With an unsettled feeling taking up residence in his stomach, his eyebrows creased, "What do you want me to say?"
"Nothing," was the soundless reply.
When Anakin used the wall to abruptly stand, he did the same. As the oddly-acting Tatooinian attempted to head towards the back of the house, he grabbed mismatched hands from behind, "This was a weighted question, wasn't it?"
"No."
He pulled Anakin to his chest, uncaring if the oil on the other Forceful would cause the need for a second shower. His arms wrapped around the taller man and his chin settled on a bony shoulder, "Were you wanting me to lie to you? To leave out words with negative connotations?"
"No."
"There's nothing I named I don't love about you." His arms tightened, "Except your self-destructiveness."
The response was dispassionate, "I didn't want you to lie to me."
His arms loosened and he took hold of cybernetic fingers then moved until his back hit concrete again. He slid down the wall to sit on the ground and after a moment, Anakin lowered into the sand in front of him. He tugged at their linked hands and his partner took the invitation to lay between his legs. Anakin's arm circled the older man's waist and the outside of his left leg dug against the sand. The side of his face pressed against solid chest and battle-worn fingers lovingly combed through his shortened curls. Being so close cast an immediate calming effect on him. He wasn't focused on the dark side or the voice. He wasn't focused on pity or control. He closed his eyes and basked in the healing agent that was Obi-Wan's skin, energy, and protection. He barely even registered the kind voice that addressed him, "You were looking for me to say something specific. What do you want me to say?"
"Nothing," he murmured.
"Fine, what were you anticipating I'd say?"
"Nothing."
"I didn't-"
"You didn't say anything I wasn't anticipating and I didn't anticipate anything you didn't say."
Obi-Wan knew he'd hit a ravine. There was no hopping over this emotional chasm, not today. His forlorn eyes found an emerging star on the horizon and he focused on it as they sat in taciturnity. The fingertips of his right hand massaged pronounced vertebrae and the fingertips of his left hand massaged soft scalp while the sun slipped from view. There was still dim daylight when he tickled the back of the brunette's neck, "What do you need from me?"
The answer was indifferent and heartbreaking, "Nothing."
His fingers slipped across an oil-smeared jawline and he kissed whatever skin he could reach, "You are and have always been unlike anyone else, Anakin."
"There aren't exactly other Obi-Wan's running around either, you know," Anakin's mechno-hand reached up to draw the blonde's head down for a heartsick kiss.
::::
Rather than an episode of intense insomnia, he'd taken to an episode of across-the-board depression. Three rotations passed since the Oil Occasion and the only time he got out of bed was to use the fresher. He didn't eat. He didn't repetitively clean. His eyes were redder than the moons of Vinmon Dem from nonstop crying. Obi-Wan knew the best plan of action was to allow another Force bond even though it was going to hurt like hell. He closed their bedroom door behind him, but Anakin gave no acknowledgement of his entrance. His anxiety mounted as he stepped up beside the bed with crossed arms, "Can I get in?"
The rejection was relatively unexpected, "No."
He gripped the sleeves of his tunic and his spine became rigid, "Why not?"
Not even a glance was spared, "Because I want to be alone."
"I don't have to stay long."
"I said I want to be alone," the Tatooinian hatefully refused.
His hand motioned in front of him indicatively, "You haven't moved from here in hours."
"What? You don't have it fregging timed down to the damn millisecond like you did while I was cleaning?"
He bit his lip and lowered his tremoring hands to his sides, "Do you need to talk?"
"Get a Force-fucking Basic Dictionary and look up the word alone."
"Anakin-"
The bilious brunette unexpectedly sat up in the bed and leaned forwards on his fists, "Fine! You want to talk? Let's talk about the truth! Why don't you ever tell me the truth?"
Obi-Wan's head shook in bewilderment, "I always tell you the truth."
"Like karking hell you do! Let's have a little experiment, shall we?" He clumsily climbed onto his knees, "Am I too small?"
"What?"
"Small!" His hands cupped around the sides of his waist, "Am I too Force-damn small?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
His hands and eyelids flapped wildly, "Then yes, you do brixing think so! Why can't you say what you think instead of trying to mess with my head?"
The Jedi clasped one of the whipping hands, "If you're trying to imply my thoughts on your size hold some material significance, then you could at least let me tell you what I think instead of putting words in my mouth. I think if you're healthy, I don't care what size you are."
"Force, that is such an Obi-Wan answer."
His fist settled against his hip, "What does that mean?"
"Do you ever tell me what you are really thinking and feeling?" The disgraced Jedi pressed his palm against his temple. "All you do is give me a façade! You give me what you want me to see, not the genuine, authentic, existing Obi-Wan! Who knows what you're really thinking or feeling! Fuck knows what drives you in your bones!"
Obi-Wan kneeled beside the bed and leaned his elbows on the edge in an attempt to show his noncombative disposition, "Anakin, what are you talking about? There's no secret agenda in what I do or say. If you are healthy, I don't care what size you are, that is what I think and I'm not saying it to mask some covert feelings I have on the matter."
"So, you've never told me something that wasn't the absolute, no strings attached truth?"
His hand raked through his bangs in perplexity, "What are we even arguing about?"
"Answer the kesting question!"
"The only time I've ever lied to you was when I said I wasn't attached to you."
"You fucking liar!" Anakin roared distrustfully. "You lied to me about Satine Kryze!"
"I didn't lie-"
His volume elevated, "What else have you bullshitted me on?"
Obi-Wan used one elbow to lift forward and reach out for his hysterical housemate, "Faneta..."
Anakin pushed backwards to sit cross-legged in the center of the bed. The retreat didn't wound him as much as the whimpering instruction that accompanied it, "Get away from me."
Consequences be damned. He crawled onto the bed and giftwrapped his arms around the petite man's torso, holding tight despite feeble shoves to get loose. He knew if this embrace was truly unwanted, he'd feel a blow of the Force soon enough. His persistence paid off when slim arms desperately hugged his neck. He searched every niche of his brain for something to say, but for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say. When did you stop trusting me? Sobs, sniffles, and whimpers were absorbed by his neck and shoulder for some time before breath bounced against his ear, "I'm sorry I'm so crazy. I'm sorry. I expect too much from you, amanica."
Words finally came to him, but when he tried to speak, a mouth crashed against his. The chaotic lip lock only lasted a few seconds before stormy sky-blue eyes entranced him, "You give me the world I still want more."
His fingertips gently rested under a puffy eye, "Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
A tear trickled over glimmering lashes to leak down the length of his fingers. Anakin tried to will the tears into nonexistence, but they continued to spill forth. He didn't want Obi-Wan to love him out of pity or responsibility or the need to control. He didn't want to confuse sex for love or sex for degradation. He didn't want to be shamefully shallow or be unable to decipher what shallow actually was. He didn't want to live with this voice in his head. He just wanted to love the man that loved him. He just wanted to live with his partner and children like they were a real family. He just wanted Obi-Wan to tell him he's beautiful. He just wanted his sanity back.
"I want you."
"You have me."
And you both have me, my treasures.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Faithful and Ferocious