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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Author's Note: There's a chance this chapter may seem aimless/irrelevant, but its primary intention is to demonstrate their developing communication (which is also why it's extremely diaolgue-oriented and possibly reads like court proceedings). And yes, I'm somewhat reinventing Obi-Wan's past relationships/how Cerasi died. And oh, no, I couldn't help myself with the sweesonberry bread line; it was just too perfect. Oh, and yes, bang-corn- instead of popcorn- is a canonical food in the Star Wars universe. I swear!
"We could leap over a fire."
"Too hazardous."
"Break furniture against the door?"
"Too wasteful."
"Bury sun-apples?"
"Too primitive."
Anakin trundled onto his back to stare up at his blasé denier, "Come on, Obi-Wan, it's the fifth rotation and we haven't done one bloody thing."
"When did you start caring for the customs of New Year Fete Week anyway?"
He tetchily leered out of the corners of his eyes, "I mean, I don't devotedly or subjectively care, I just want us to, I don't know, observe in some way."
"You never voluntarily observed when we were still on Coruscant."
"I never had grounds to. Now I do. We do. It's a perfect time in our lives to exult fresh starts." When he received a peculiar, unconvinced stare, he stormily sat up, "Never mind, then."
Obi-Wan was astounded Anakin wanted to celebrate the New Year. His former pupil was never exactly fond of holidays. In the Jedi Temple, people were most prone to commit acts of camaraderie during festive times and Anakin, to say the least, was not typically extended the branch of friendship and inclusion. After leaving the Jedi Council Chamber one particular eve of New Year Fete Week, he returned to their shared quarters to inform his padawan they were about to be deployed on an ambassadorial mission to a distant planet requesting to be a member of the Galactic Republic.
-::-::-
Darkness enveloped him upon entry. He blindly pressed the circular button on the white, glass light panel to switch on the fluere tube lights. To his great horror, he discovered his padawan face-down on the floor in front of the couch. He sprinted across the common room. Anakin's face rested on his right cheek and his arms were straight down at his sides. Obi-Wan would have found some solace in flapping, wakeful eyes if it weren't for the gushing sparkler tears. He kneeled down and stroked a trembling shoulder, "Why are you on the floor?"
"I just needed something solid to lay on."
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm pathetic."
He pushed the coffee table across the magnesite chrome flooring to make room to stretch out beside Anakin. He propped up on his elbow and intently gazed down into watery, oceanic globes, "Why are you pathetic?"
"Because I'm crying."
"You're crying because you're pathetic and pathetic because you're crying. Something tells me we've sidestepped a critical part of the story."
Anakin rolled onto his back, causing the right side of his body to press against the bottom of the mauve couch, and molded his left hand over his eyes to shield them from view, "I'm pathetic because I let those pricks get to me."
The Jedi Knight didn't seek elucidation. The pricks in question were no doubt other padawan learners, as they were consistently a source of disgruntlement and social alienation for his apprentice. Every other rotation brought a new incident and he was fed up with it almost as much as Anakin was. With pique laminating his voice, he investigated, "What did they do now?"
"Well, it was really only one of them."
"Whom?"
"I am not telling you. You'll go on a righteous crusade to educate him and I feel pathetic enough without my master running around defending my virtue." Although Anakin didn't want any amount of pity, he needed to purge this Force-awful night from his hemorrhaging ego. A breath echoed between his lips, "I was leaving the training ground and this bastard approached me. He asked me if I have any plans for the first rotation of the New Year tomorrow and I said, no. Then he asked me if I wanted to go drink blush wine at the Capital Cantina in the Galactic City to celebrate early." Stray tears trickled from under the hand clasped over his eyes, "I fucking…I can't believe I thought he was just trying to be nice."
He transitorily bit his bottom lip, "All he did when we got there was smoke carababba tabac and talk to other people at the bar. After an hour, I stood up and he grabbed my arm. He said, where are you going? I told him I was fragging leaving, that I was wasting my time. He said- he said, come on, most people don't take you on a date before they fuck you."
Obi-Wan, in all his fury, tried to interrupt, "An-"
The younger Forceful, however, hastily prattled on, "And I said, date? Date? I didn't know we were on a karking date! And he said, did you think I invited you here so we could become buddies or something? I turned to walk away and he said, wow, try to be nice to you and you don't even return the favor. It took every iota of restraint I had not to bash my fist through his fripping teeth… I turned back around and told him, you're all the Force-damn same and I'd rather put broken glass in my mouth and masticate than touch any of you sleazeball liars. I told him…"
The second a throttled sob resounded, Obi-Wan edged closer to the distraught teenager's side, "He doesn't deserve your tears, Anakin."
"Last year was the falderal with that low-minded senator, now this."
On a social basis, things worsened after he turned eighteen. A frightening number of people used his blooming maturity as a misguided rationale to debase and spread increasingly foul slander about him. Obi-Wan, sadly, could guess why. He warily admitted to himself his padawan had grown into a rather handsome young man. He also warily admitted to himself his padawan's synthesis of passion and aloofness made for an enigmatic allure. Since Anakin's peers knew fairly nothing about his personality, as they treated him like a leper most of the time, it was obvious they were fascinated by his beauty and mystique. Obi-Wan hypothetically understood attraction to Anakin, but he did not understand how attraction could possibly invite mistreatment. The other students acted like emotionally-addled younglings, being mean to the one they were infatuated with.
He wished Anakin would reveal who behaved so immaturely and disrespectfully. He wanted to find them and give them a well-deserved tongue-lashing. It burned him to the bone this unidentified individual thought they had a right to Anakin in some way. He pried away the arm doubled over the brunette's face, "I know."
Their eyes didn't catch very long through the apprehensive blinking, "I told him I would never want him. He got mad. He said, I don't want you either. He said…you're like the top slice of a loaf of sweesonberry bread. Everyone touches you, but no one wants you."
Without hesitation, Obi-Wan crushed his thumb against the lower bone of Anakin's eye socket and slipped his other fingers over a sun-kissed cheek, "Don't heed some spoiled, disgusting reprobate."
"That's why I'm crying. I'm frustrated it- he got to me! I'm pathetic!"
"You're not pathetic. You're human, something this imbecile did not take into consideration." He soothingly massaged the protruding bone under his thumb, "You know better and nothing else matters. You can't control what others do or say, but you are in control of your own life, your own truth, and they have no power to change that unless you give them the power to do so."
His heart fissured with every woundedly-whispered word, "Why does this keep happening, Obi-Wan? What is it about me that makes everyone- male, female- everyone treat me like this? I can ignore them, I can be exceptionally rude to them, beat them in a fight, I can be somewhat nice to them even; no matter what I do, they just try to get in my pants."
"As a matter of course, people want what they can't have."
"Yeah, well, they don't have to be such cunts about it."
"No, they don't."
Sapphire orbs sealed shut in timidity, "You know I don't sleep around, don't you?"
Obi-Wan slanted the sheepish Force-sensitive's face towards him, "Even if you didn't spend every single day in training and every single night with me, when we aren't on a mission, I would still know such a ribald rumor was categorically untrue. I know how sensitive you really are, my young padawan. You don't have the emotional disconnect to be with someone you don't respect and care about. And since I know you do not respect or care about people that make inappropriate come-on's, nearly all the other padawans and one despicable senator do not make the short list of those you would be intimate with."
"Have any of the Knights or Masters said anything about it to you?"
"Stop thinking about it."
"So, they have."
"There's been a couple mentions about it, but I promise you I put swift ends to the conversations."
"What did they say?"
"I don't want you to get caught up on that. There's only two things I want you to consider through all this: your mind and body are precious, sacred, and no one has a claim to either, even if they take you on an alleged date."
Anakin lost all lung function. The only person I want to want me is you. He grabbed ahold of the older man's arm, "I need to ask you something. It's pretty odd and you might say no and-"
"Just ask."
"I know I'm not an infant and I shouldn't need to be consoled like one, but I just- just, I need-"
Before he could stammer out any further defense, Obi-Wan twisted the shoulder of his tunic and forcibly rolled him onto his side, pulling him into an awkwardly-angled embrace.
"Stop crying, now."
-::-::-
Though he hadn't initially been convinced of the genuineness of the request to inaugurate new traditions, Obi-Wan would gladly oblige to show his partner their holidays, their time and life together, would never be demeaning or painful. He lugged Anakin back by the shoulder to resume their previous position, with the back of the Tatooinian's head resting on his cotton-clothed thigh, "Are you familiar with Gorsian palm reading?"
"Isn't a palm reader a security sensor that reads the imprint of your hand?"
He quietly snickered and re-laced his fingers into butterscotch brown hair, "That's a Gallinorean palm reader. Gorsian palm reading is a divination practice that was founded on Gorse nearly three-thousand years ago by cabalistic blood cultists. Their devotion to astrology eventually wedded their interest in fortune-telling and voilà, chiromancy, or palm reading, was fashioned."
"Doesn't seem like your cup of tea."
"Believe it or not, I took a number of lessons from a palmist in Western Xufuin when I was sixteen." He smiled at the flabbergasted expression the divulgence earned and tapped on the back of his friend's flesh hand, "Do you want me to read yours?"
Anakin turned over, climbed onto his elbows, and eagerly held out his left hand, "Yes!"
The pad of Obi-Wan's fingertip mapped across the bottom left of his patron's palm to the space between the Forceful's forefinger and thumb, "You have no life line."
"I assume this means I don't really exist."
"It means you will have a short life."
"Off to a good start."
The Jedi traced a vertical line running up Anakin's palm towards the base of his middle finger, "Your fate line is shallow and narrow. It indicates an extraordinary destiny in life. Since it starts at the Mount of Moon, which is this area at the bottom right of your palm, you will only attain your destiny with the assistance of a dependable helpmate."
"Wonder who that could be."
Obi-Wan smiled but otherwise overlooked the remark and outlined a stripe extending and ending under his pinky, "Your head line is straight and long with a downward branch at the end. It means you are responsive, steadfast, and have a strong analytic aptitude. Your heart line, this line above your head line, is short and broken. It means you are merciless, self-obsessed, and act capriciously without thinking about the consequences." The heart line was followed to its end just below his middle finger, "It splits at the end and curves downwards. You are…willing to sacrifice everything for love."
He wasn't sure whether or not he was being mocked, but before he could gain clarification on the matter, a feathery fingertip trailed over the short semi-circular line surrounding the base of his middle finger, "This is the Ring of Lah'mu. Not everybody has it. It indicates captivity, difficulty, frustration."
Obi-Wan fell into a silent dread as he gawked at his housemate's hand. He didn't want to disclose the Ring of Lah'mu foretold of a penchant for suicidal behavior. Even though he mentally chanted This is antiquated hocus pocus, in some way he feared this abysmal prediction would come to fruition if it was said aloud. He hectically drummed under Anakin's pinky, "You, uh, have two marriage lines." His fingernail stenciled over the highest marriage line, "This first one, it goes downwards at the end..."
"Which means?"
"…Your spouse will die before you."
Anakin suspiciously squinted, "Are you roasting me?"
"No, of course not." The blonde's nail scraped slightly south, "This second line has an island at the beginning, which signals the relationship with your second spouse will not go smoothly."
He lacked the intestinal fortitude to say the second marriage line was also curved downwards. Anakin could sense the qualm in the strangling silence stretching between them. His chin settled on the bend of his elbow and he goggled his soothsayer, "What?"
"I was just thinking about how two marriage lines usually prophesizes two marriages." A quick glance up found airy azure eyes and a honied, content half-smile. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and turned his attention back to their hands, pointing above the first marriage line, "Your children lines are forked at the end. It's an indication of twins."
"Seriously, you can be direct; are you ad libbing?"
"No, I swear that's the reading." He patted below Anakin's forefinger, "This is the Mount of Hudalla. Yours is prominent, which signifies your willpower and ambition. Your Mount of Lah'mu, here at the base of your middle finger, is prominently developed, symptomatic of your remarkable intelligence. This area under your pinky is your Mount of Drexel. It is also prominent and developed, which signifies you are very instinctive and resourceful in crises."
This proclamation contracted an amused snicker, "Maybe in the springtide of my youth."
His finger slid across the space surrounded by the life line at the base of the thumb, "You have an overly developed Mount of Ezaraa. It implies you're energetic and-" Sexy. "-stimulating. The area between the Mounts of Hudalla and Ezaraa is your Mount of Inner Zender and it is also prominent and developed. It's a sign of bravery. This strip between the Mounts of Drexel and Moon is your Mount of Outer Zender. It's strong, indicating perseverance and fearlessness."
He rotated Anakin's hand one-hundred and eighty degrees, "Chiromancy interprets your fingers as well. You have a relatively long thumb, so you are initiative in love. Your index finger is relatively long, which tells of a fierce desire for power and control. Your middle finger is relatively short and it means you are impatient in work. Your ring finger is relatively long, which means you have a determined sense of love. You have a relatively short pinky, bespeaking your tendency to be straightforward and candid. Your ring finger is longer than your index finger, so you are frequently belligerent, irritable, and weak in controlling emotions and behaviors, which can result in a lack of judgement."
"Are you factually certain you're not using black magic as a smoke screen to identify character flaws you think I should resolve?"
"I'm certain."
"In that case, maybe those blood cultists were onto something. I say we test their theorem further! Read yours."
Without even glancing at his palm, Obi-Wan recited, "My fate line is shallow and narrow like yours. My heart line is very long, which means I would rather break than bend, in general. My head line is long and curved. It implies I am accepting, realistic, considerate of others, and have strong relational skills."
"All accurate."
He slowly, hesitantly, revealed, "I have no life line."
It means you will have a short life. Anakin frantically knitted their fingers together and yanked Obi-Wan's hand against his throat, "Why? What will happen?"
"It's a hand, love, not a scrying glass. I can't see what will happen."
He did not like this answer. All he could think about was the premonition constantly infesting his head like a brain crawler. Wake up. I-I-please. Please, Obi-Wan. Night after night, his amanica's blood stained the back of his eyelids and it killed him to not know when, where, and under what circumstances this wretched event would take place. Presently, with no information beyond the snippet of Force vision he kept seeing, what could he do to keep his soulmate safe? Should he tell Obi-Wan about the vision? If he did, would it help to repave the pathways of divine decree? It didn't help or change anything when he'd told Padmé. The result was still the spirit-splicing same. He looked at the beautiful face above his and decided he couldn't beleaguer his beloved with such terror. The only thing worse than dying, he decided, was knowing you're about to die.
"My marriage line is straight and long. I will deeply love my spouse and have a happy family. I also have an island at the beginning. My children lines are, um, forked. Like yours."
His head popped up, "Really?"
Obi-Wan overturned his left hand and showcased the cloven, vertical lines at the base of his pinky. Without removing his hand from under the younger Forceful's inquisitive gaze, he tapped the areas below his fingers, "My Mount of Hudalla, Mount of Lah'mu, and Mount of Drexel are all prominent and developed like yours. My Mount of Ezaraa, however, is not as prominent as yours. Mine indicates gentleness and sentimentality. My Mount of Inner Zender is the same as yours, but my Mount of Outer Zender is stronger than yours, implying self-control and endurance."
"What about your fingers?"
"I have a relatively short thumb, signifying practicality. My forefinger is relatively shorter, so I will suffer from hardships in work. Which, you have to think... I have a relatively longer middle finger, which means I tend to get trapped in love. My ring finger is relatively shorter, signifying I'm down-to-earth and stable. My shorter pinky suggests I possess immense eloquence and observational skills."
Anakin firmly snuggled his ear against Obi-Wan's thigh and tugged the hand in his against his nose and mouth, "Do you?"
"Yes, my eloquence is unparalleled."
An entertained grin graced his lips, "You know that's not the question I'm asking."
A sigh floated towards the ceiling, "Yes, I've often thought I was in love."
"Often?"
"Yes."
"How often?" Obi-Wan anxiously scrubbed his forehead with the back of his unhampered hand. The visible reluctance made Anakin all the more insistent, "I promise I will not get upset or jealous."
"Oh, yes, you will."
"Well, I promise to pretend I'm not," Anakin brightly smiled. The incredulous stare leveled at him bred an authentic smile, "It took almost twenty years for you to tell me you loved Satine Kryze. I know it's because I'm emotional, but I want you to be able to speak to me without pretense or reserve, no holds barred. We discuss my past all the time and you don't get worked up. Let me repay you in kind."
"I mistakenly thought I was in love with Satine."
"Duly noted. Who else have you mistakenly thought you were in love with?"
A heedful minute elapsed before Obi-Wan complained, "I don't know why you have to always be so headstrong. You know you're not going to like a single syllable of what I have to say."
A soft, sensual kiss grazed the intermediate phalanx of his middle finger, "I thought you said we could talk about anything."
He jerked his hand away with an aggravated groan, "Why won't you ever fight fair?"
"Fighting fair is for Master Yoda. I like to win."
"No, you like to torture me."
"I wouldn't call using your own words against you torture and even if I did, it would appear the technique is not very effective since you are stonewalling and still not acknowledging my question."
Another sigh sailed around the room, "Three."
"Three?"
"Yes, I mistakenly thought I was in love with three different people."
Anakin was perfectly stunned Mister Attachment-Will-Be-The-End-Of-Civilization managed to fall in love with three people, aside from himself, as opposed to the one he'd always presumed. Who were the other two people Obi-Wan was referring to? How long did these relationships last? Why did they end? He didn't get to ponder any revelations long before his mouth began recklessly flapping, "You lied when you said Satine Kryze and I were the only ones you were attached to."
"No, that is counterfactual. I-"
"You-"
Obi-Wan wagged his finger reproachfully, "No, no, I'm going to be the interrupter this time. When we first spoke of my attachment for you, you kept interrupting and that's why you're turned around. What I said verbatim is ...at one time I thought Satine was my only attachment. She wasn't. I meant I wasn't attached to her at all. I thought I was attached to her somewhere along the line, but I never veraciously was."
Still starved for a meatier rap, Anakin inspected, "Were you in orthodox relationships with Satine and these other two people?"
"I tried to be."
"What held you back?"
"Age, duty, ambition. Fear. Death. In many ways, I think I'm cursed. Everyone I love or think I love seems to be doomed... I was there with them at the end each time. I could have done something to save them, yet the only thing I did was impart valueless love to be toted into the afterlife."
He maneuvered into a sitting position and sidled as close as he could, draping his head over the Stewjonian's shoulder, "Aren't you constantly telling me we don't have the power to govern fate? It's not your fault, Obi-Wan." With any dissenting conclusions withheld, he centralized on the next most pressing issue, "So, Satine Kryze and…" The only other person he knew to have died in his old master's presence that would even be a semi-conceivable candidate was, "…please don't tell me you're talking about Master Tachi."
"Astute as always."
His fingers fisted; his teeth grinded; his toes curled into the soles of his boots. How do you know me so well? His eyes were undeniably, overwhelmingly green, but he staunchly coerced himself to stick to the promise to pretend they weren't, "What made you decide you didn't love her?"
"You."
"How do you mean?"
"When I came to grips with how much I love you, I realized I never knew what love is."
Although his envy didn't subside, it lessened enough for him to be able to speak sympathetically, "Just because you didn't love them like you love me doesn't mean you didn't love them at all."
"I cared," the older Forceful resolutely maintained, "they were very good friends, but I didn't love them, not romantically."
"There was a short period when I thought you felt something for Master Tachi. I was," he tensely snickered, "so resentful. After a while, I began avoiding her because all I wanted to do was insult her. But I thought I was wrong about the situation when you didn't avenge her on Azure."
"I almost did. Before then, I'd never been as close to darkness as I was with my lightsaber to Magus' throat." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes when Anakin's face strenuously buried into his shoulder. "Only you would get jealous over not being the one to push me off a ledge. I said before then. In the duration of my entire lifespan, the closest I've ever been to darkness was in this very house, hearing you scream I hate you night after night."
This thoughtful extenuation made Anakin feel ghastly. Amidst his unwarranted jealousy, he pressured Obi-Wan to downgrade the pain experienced from Master Tachi's death. Why did he keep doing this? He couldn't pinpoint why he demanded typhlotic allegiance, in the past and currently, when he was unable to give the same considering his courtship with and marriage to Padmé. It was well within Obi-Wan's Force-given right to search for happiness before they got together. He sloped the side of his skull against the blonde's shoulder to stare aimlessly through the darkened room, "Don't you think it would have been better?"
"Would what have been?"
"If Master Tachi would have lived and I would have died when I was supposed to."
Obi-Wan's shoulder slumped, taking the support from Anakin's head, and he bowed towards his housemate to furiously connect their eyes, "You're going to tell me why you just said that."
Anakin reclined against the back of the couch and slathered his hands over his face, "Because it's true. I think you would have been happier with someone like Master Tachi. She was smart, mature, considerate. She-"
Obi-Wan indignantly intervened, "I wish I would have done more to protect and help Siri. I wish she was alive, make no doubt about that, but you will never, never hear me say my life would be better if you were not a part of it." He urgently located remorseful cat eyes, "Do you want to tell me the dead-level reason you said that?"
"I made you...rank the people you love and it was wrong. You would never ask that of me. You would never ask me to rank my love for you, my mom, Luke, Leia, Padmé."
"Have you listened to even one word I've said? I didn't love Siri, Anakin; I thought I did. At the time, it felt realer than retrograde motion, but it wasn't. I was trying to hide- to extinguish what I felt growing towards you. I invented false feelings to shield myself from my actual feelings. I wasn't ready to accept I loved you with every atom of my energy and soul. I just wasn't ready."
The weak-necked nod offered only propelled him to expand, "In regards to Satine, I felt a numinous emptiness when I met her. I kept seeing- feeling like I was supposed to have a soulmate, but I was young and afraid of having that variety of commitment. I kept telling myself I didn't want a soulmate. The twin soul philosophy frightened me and I decided love shouldn't feel like that. Why would love be frightening? When I was sent to Mandalore to guard Satine, we were in close proximity for a very long time... I knew she wasn't my soulmate, but I thought screw soulmates, the vis- feeling that someone was-was waiting for me was just some coincidence. For years I thought what I shared with her must be true love because I never knew relationships could intensify beyond the point we'd reached. Even though there were other, more imperative motives for which I later turned my attention to Siri, I carried that conclusion into the accord with her.
"Then I came to terms with how I felt about you and fear of commitment vanished; the desire to erase my love for you vanished. It became clear I never knew how teeth-shatteringly intense love could be or how it could unceasingly fortify. I never thought you would feel the same for me or that we would end up together, not in a million years, but in the end I didn't want to love anyone else. I didn't want to even try." He admiringly caressed Anakin's temple, "I knew I'd found the soulmate I'd waited for my whole life."
It shouldn't have been the most noteworthy takeaway; Anakin knew that. The problem was he was so angry he just couldn't bring himself to care. There were three options: Obi-Wan had solely emotional relationships with Satine Kryze and Master Tachi, he had solely physical relationships with them, or he had emotional and physical relationships with them. It had just been volubly illustrated they weren't his soulmates and he'd known it all along. He'd known on some deep level he didn't love these people, so Anakin was willing to bet these relationships were not purely emotional. The only way to be sure was to flat-out ask, so the Tatooinian did, "Did you fuck them?"
Obi-Wan fretfully rubbed his eyebrow, "You promised you weren't going to get jealous or upset."
"I'm not."
His knee hove onto the couch as he warped towards the brunette in surliness, "You most certainly are. Do you think I don't know why you're asking if I had sex with Siri and Satine?"
Anakin turned his head away from his partner, "If you know the question, give me the answer."
"I thought we settled this two months ago."
His head snapped around, "No, we didn't settle why you fuck people you supposedly don't love but you refuse to fuck me!"
"I am not refusing because I don't want to make love to you. I am refusing because you do things like you're doing right now. You are demonstrating you do not trust me and I can't do that, Anakin."
"Well, this is me," he obstinately slapped his chest. "I get jealous! That's my personality. If you're waiting for me to become a different person, I guess we'll never have a physical relationship."
Obi-Wan raked his hands through his hair, "Please don't do this."
"Do what?"
"Try to manipulate me into taking a step I don't think we're ready for, that I'm not ready for."
"How long did you wait to fuck Master Tachi and Satine Kryze?"
He abruptly stood and traipsed away from the couch, "I'm going to bed."
Anakin promptly followed, "Would it be safe to assume the correct response is: within three months?" His chagrin spiked when Obi-Wan wordlessly turned into their bedroom. He flew through the doorway with a sardonic laugh, "Yeah, I sure seem like the soulmate you've waited your whole life for. If you're a blonde broad I don't give two shits about, I'll fuck you within a couple weeks, but if you're my soulmate, I'd rather drink cyanide than lay a hand on you!"
He pirouetted and tramped back through the bedroom door, "Satio dituit!"
It was Obi-Wan's turn to play tag as he chased Anakin into the sitting room and inhospitably swung the petulant man around by the forearm, "Why do you have to be so difficult?"
Anakin sneeringly smiled, "Guess I'm just sexually frustrated."
Unflinching honesty was the only way to cut through to this blue-eyed mumpsimus, thus it was given in abundance, "How can you not care even a little bit about what I need? Do you not care how much it hurts me when you say things like you just did? Last month you told me you understood how much this is hurting me, how taxing it is for me, and now you're going to stick a sonic knife in my heart because you're jealous? The one time I open up to you about my past relationships, after you promised you'd keep your head..." He released the arm in his grip and trod backwards, "I'm going to bed."
He trekked back to their bedroom, removed his belt and overtunic, and crawled into bed. He didn't expect his incensed housemate to join him for a few hours, so he was rather surprised when the mattress quaked from movement within a handful of minutes. The front of Anakin's body fused to the back of his and a sharp chin hooked over his shoulder, "I care, my Obi-Wan. I care about what you need and I care how much I hurt you." There was a brief kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder, "I love you."
Before he could field the statement, his bedmate rolled away, disconnecting their bodies. He effortlessly detected erratic breathing and knew a battle against tears had been waged. You know I can't take it when you cry. He flipped over to clutch Anakin's cheek, "I need you to tell me what's really going on. Why is this so crucial for you? Why do you think we have to have sex to prove we love each other?"
"It has nothing to do with proving anything. I just want your lips on me and your hands on me and I don't want anything between us. I want to be vulnerable to you; I want you to be vulnerable to me. I just don't want anything between us."
"Dear, there may be clothes separating our skin, but your soul is on, in, around, and smothering mine. There isn't anything between us, which is probably why we can hurt each other so easily."
Anakin pressured Obi-Wan's wrist to push the man's hand impossibly tighter against his cheek, "Do you honestly have intention to sleep with me?"
"I told you ten weeks ago I am going to make love to you. That hasn't changed and it's not going to. I just need to know you trust me before we enter that arena, as I already clarified."
Obi-Wan could hear the insecure quiver in the soft response, "Okay."
Cue the hernia in his splintering heart. I'd rather drink cyanide than lay a hand on you! He wanted to reassure Anakin of his vow in some way other than words. He wanted to show he had less than zero grievances with the idea of physical contact between them. You have to go for broke. With the utmost gentleness, he clinched the tops of black tunics and patiently waited until he was given a feeble nod of assent to peel them open one by one. He meticulously planted nectarous, close-mouthed kisses over every millimeter of his partner's collarbones. The labored breath wafting through his hair encouraged him to progressively work his way down a trim pectoral, across the breastbone to the opposite pectoral, then back towards Anakin's neck. His lips laggardly meandered up to a pink-tipped ear, "I love you so much."
Through arduous respiration, dermal conflagration, and smoky vision, Anakin somehow lucidly entreated, "Will you let me try again?"
The tip of Obi-Wan's nose ghosted across the younger Forceful's cheek, "What do you mean?"
"Who's the third?"
He reared back with a censuring frown, "We're not doing this, Anakin."
Mechno-fingers meshed into the back of caramel tresses, "Let me try to make this right, Obi-Wan. Please?"
It wasn't in him to deny a bid for improvement, even if the bid was foolhardy. He rested the side of his head on the center of Anakin's chest, "Her name was Cerasi. She was one of the Young leaders on Melida/Daan. The Young organization helped end the planet's bloody civil war, but it was not without casualties. She, like Satine and Siri, died in my arms."
Behind Anakin's closed eyes, he saw flashes of his expiring mother, holding her as the last gasping breath of life left her. He didn't bring it up. Obi-Wan would shift all focus to his anguish and he didn't want that. He wanted them to speak freely to one another without playing affliction olympics. He soberly inquired, "How old were you?"
"Thirteen." Obi-Wan curtly laughed, "I suppose thirteen-year-old's aren't especially well-versed in love."
Anakin blissfully murmured, "I loved you when I was thirteen."
"Yes, well, I think we have established how advanced you were in your formative years. Personally speaking, I had no idea what true love was when I was thirteen. I had no idea what true love was until I admitted I love you."
"You're just saying that because you're afraid I'll get jealous."
"There's no worries about you getting jealous. You have been jealous since this topic was brought up."
Anakin's mechno-hand tunneled under the back of Obi-Wan's tunic, stroking his friend's upper back, "What color hair did Cerasi have?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Satine Kryze and Master Tachi were both flaxen with blue eyes. I'm just trying to establish your type."
"You're ridiculous. Cerasi had copper hair and green eyes, I'll have you know."
"Hm, I thought I would be a mold-breaker," he mumbled in faux offense.
"You are a mold-breaker," Obi-Wan grinned against bronze skin. "I think it's safe to say Satine, Cerasi, and Siri were, you know, female."
Anakin lifted Obi-Wan's head by the chin and puzzled his lips against his beloved's bottom one, barely sucking. He cradled a bewhiskered jaw and lightly bit the lip ensnared between his, using his pearly teeth to playfully tug it outward before releasing it, "Is this how you want to end Fete Week?"
Despite the static buzzing around his brain and the prickling warmth enveloping his bottom lip, Obi-Wan smiled, "The blood cultists also practiced ceromancy. It's a divination practice where melted wax is poured into cold water. After the wax cools and solidifies, you're supposed to be able to read auguries in it."
"Are we going to spend the rest of the night practicing witchcraft?"
"We could. Horoscopy, ichnomancy, catoptromancy, oculomancy, astromancy; the list goes on."
"I'll air-pop some bang-corn!"
::::
Luke wigwagged a miniature, rectangular box in the air as soon as he was hauled into mismatched arms, "Look! I have Planetoid Poker Cards! I found them in Uncle Owen's sideboard!"
Obi-Wan walked over to tap the maroon spade on the white box, "That's quite the discovery. I haven't seen a deck like this in years."
The fair-haired child enthusiastically bounced his legs, "Do you know any games?"
"Why, of course!" the Jedi Master charmingly smiled. "We know Hearts, Patience, Spades, War, you name it."
"Oh, oh! Do you know how to play Taxes?"
His arms crossed in good humor, "Who do you think you're talking to? I was teaching your dear dad how to play Taxes before you were even born."
Anakin smoothed his son's pale bangs back, "I think the more intriguing question is: who taught you to play Taxes?"
Luke unseeingly pointed towards the entry dome of the compound, "Uncle Owen."
Obi-Wan proximately spotted the virulence springing into cerulean eyes. There was no doubt Anakin did not want another person taking up his paternal role- in any capacity- and he especially didn't want that person to be Owen Lars. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to advise Anakin not to get whipped up over a meaningless game, but he was disrupted by a delighted invitation, "Will you play Taxes with me?"
He peered into wide, inspirited sky-blue eyes and nodded, "Yes, I'll play."
Luke anticipatorily gazed at his father, voicelessly enquiring the same enquiry which had been submitted to Obi-Wan.
"No, I don't think so."
The Stewjonian warningly scowled. It was one thing for Anakin to be crestfallen about not having enough time with his son; it was another thing for him to refuse to interact with his son to get back at his alpha male adversary. The stern, admonitory stare aimed in his direction caused Anakin to soften his tone, though he still refused to relent, "Obi-Wan clobbers me at cards every time we play and I refuse to look like a subpar washout in front of my little cadet."
"You're dippity, Daddy."
The corner of his lips quirked, "Yes, I am."
Luke excitedly reached his hands out, repeatedly crimping his fingers until he was taken into Obi-Wan's arms. He dauntlessly poked a finger into his impending opponent's chest, "Prepare to lose!"
The blonde's head tossed back with maniacal laughter, "We'll see!"
In due time, Obi-Wan and Luke were sitting on the ground, each holding a number of cards in their hands, with Anakin stretched out beside them. Within the first five minutes of the round, it became exceedingly conspicuous the youngest player was cheating. Not wanting to wrongly accuse, Obi-Wan allowed the shifty performance to proceed long enough to rule out sheer luck. He pounced, however, after his nemesis dealt out three aces at once for the second time in a row, "How do you keep getting so many pay cards?"
"'Cause I'm the pirate king of Taxes and you're not."
"Right."
When Anakin was a youngling, he would never intentionally throw contests. He thought letting younglings win at games and competitions was a poor lesson at best and he wasn't going to teach Anakin's descendant such a lesson any more than he had taught it to Anakin. Before the round ended, he nimbly grabbed Luke's stack of cards and flipped it around. Nearly all of the remaining cards were pay cards! He overturned his stack only to find all of his were ordinary cards. I can't believe he tried to bottom deal me!
Anakin rollickingly laughed as Luke covered his eyes in humiliation, "No fair! You used Jedi powers to see my cards!"
"It doesn't take a Jedi to notice you're cheating. The probability of having that many pay cards over and over is nearly impossible." Once Obi-Wan registered the persistent titters coming from beside him, he turned towards their tickled spectator, "Why are you laughing? This is-"
"Think about it, Obi-Wan! If Owen Lars taught him to play the game and he cheats at the game…"
Despite the mirth in his voice, he scolded, "Be quiet. I'm trying to pass on a moral here." He turned back to the blushing boy in front of him, "Did Mister Lars teach you to play like this?"
Luke nervously mumbled, "Yes."
He leaned over his crossed legs and clasped his bent knees, "Did you know it is cheating?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you knowingly try to cheat against me?"
"'Cause I can't win any other way."
He scooted across the sand and hoisted the abashed youngling into his lap. He bolstered Luke's back with one arm and slipped his other arm under short, birdlike legs, "That means you need more practice. You need to practice, practice, practice at anything you want to be good or the greatest at."
"If you were a normal person, you wouldn't say that."
"What do you mean I'm not normal?"
"You're good at everything."
"No, I'm not. I'm not creative or artistic like you. I can't drive podracers like Anakin. I'm not even good at negotiating like they say I am. If I was, I could convince your dad to do his own dishes."
"But you can-"
"Don't cheat to get ahead, little one. It will give a false sense of entitlement and you'll never work to be good at anything."
Anakin tried to repress his smile as he listened to Obi-Wan lecture on the immoralities of cheating. He knew he didn't discipline Luke like he should, but his soulmate always picked up where he fell short in parenting. There was an enfeebling pang between his ribcages. It still felt wrong to want Obi-Wan, his children, and him to be one big, happy family. He didn't want to shame or dishonor his wife. He didn't want his children to begrudge him or Obi-Wan. In many aspects it felt wrong, but at the same time, in the nethermost of his soul, it felt natural. It felt natural to want his family to be together. It felt natural Obi-Wan was included in his definition of family.
Teeny lips twitched from side to side, "'kay."
Anakin caringly stroked his son's back, "Don't feel bad. He gave me the same speech about four times when I was ten."
Luke's hands clapped over his entire face, muffling the admission, "I'm embarrassed."
"There's no need to be. We all make mistakes sometimes." Anakin clambered in front of Obi-Wan and hunkered down to the mortified tike's level, "Don't be embarrassed. We only want you to make smart decisions and have a healthy conscience."
Stubby arms suddenly latched onto his slender neck and he heaved the pint-sized child against his chest as he sat up, "It's only me and Obi-Wan. You don't have to be embarrassed."
Obi-Wan kindly patted Luke's back, but his hand precipitately withdrew after the cry, "I don't wanna go to him!"
The two Forcefuls concernedly ogled each other before Anakin addressed the bundle in his arms, "Why not?"
"He thinks I'm a cheater!"
Malachite eyes raised skyward. Shiraya's word, you are your father's son. "Well, if you're going to be like that," Obi-Wan rocked forward to wrap his arms around both Skywalkers. He teasingly squeezed the right side of Luke's waist after the resistive squirming started, "Why are you trying to wiggle out of my hug?"
As soon as a small hand swatted at his pinching fingers, he plucked the youngling into his arms and rocketed to his feet. He slithered an arm under the back of Luke's knees, securing his free hand over top of bony kneecaps, and hung his hostage upside down. The boy burst out laughing as he swung by the knees and, despite his suspension, tried to sit up to grab his tormenter's hands, "Put me down!"
"I'm not putting you down until you're ready to give me a proper hug."
His breathless laughter persisted, "Stop!"
"What do you say, my little patas monkey?"
"'kay, okay! I'll do it!"
Anakin's mechno-palm pressed against his eye as his frame shook from laughter. Damn, sometimes I just don't care if it's wrong or right to love you as much as I do. Even though the voice still spoke to him and Obi-Wan and he still bickered, there was no denying their relationship and Force bonds were much stouter since they'd been shifting through their horde of burdens. Every rotation, they became closer and their energies became more intertwined.
There was no way around it. He wanted to soul bond with Obi-Wan and every second their souls weren't bonded was more agonizing than the last.
It was something he'd wanted since time out of mind, ever since he first discerned the nucleus of the bonding concept at the tender age of eleven, but the desire had grown especially strong in the past couple months. One night about a month ago, he almost asked. They'd been unremittingly kissing for such a lengthy amount of time that both their lips were scarlet and neither one of them could competently respire. Obi-Wan feverishly kissed his top lip then his bottom one and crooned through bated breath Your lips are more dangerous than mercury. He liquefied. He started to ask, he was ready to beg, but a nagging voice told him there was probably a better chance of moving Tatooine a kiloparsec with the Force than convincing Obi-Wan to soul bond with him. He couldn't convince the man to fuck him, let alone merge souls with him.
Obi-Wan carefully lowered the giggling six-year-old onto the ground. He sat up with a huge smile as the Jedi sat down beside him. He scrambled to his feet and slung his arms around his guardian angel's neck, burrowing his face into the collar of a beige overtunic. Through the course of the hug, Obi-Wan inadvertently noticed how febrile Luke felt. He reared back and cupped a hand over the child's forehead, "Do you have a temperature?"
Anakin swiftly stood up, "A temperature?" His flesh hand looped around the back of Luke's neck, "You feel hotter than a solar prominence."
"I'm okay."
"Your face is cherry-red." To ensure a thorough and accurate assessment, his hand twisted around. When the back of his hand was warmed by his son's skin, he surmised, "You're getting overheated."
Obi-Wan apologetically commented, "I shouldn't have held him upside down."
"No, it's fine. Luke, go inside and get some water. You need to cool off."
A dispirited Luke pouted, "But you aren't s'pposed to be inside."
Since Anakin was formally verboten from entering the compound following the Salt Flat Fiasco, he rapidly resolved, "We'll go home. I want you to go and stay inside where it's cooler."
"I have to pick up Uncle Owen's cards."
Obi-Wan set Luke onto the dry earth, "Anakin and I will pick them up. Stand right here."
They gathered up the cards fairly quickly, but right after the deck was handed to the pyretic child, he unintentionally dropped it, causing the plastic playing cards to fly in each and every direction. Before he finished professing his avid apologies, the collectors deck was transfered to him for a second time. He was then given two curt hugs and sent on his merry way towards air conditioning. Obi-Wan stared at the side of the entry dome Luke rounded before regarding the man next to him, "You should tell him when-"
Anakin held up his hands in hopeless surrender, "I know."
"I know it's hard for you to scold him because you feel guilty about-"
His hands fell to his sides, "If we both know, then there's no need to state it."
Obi-Wan dotingly poked a sun-blushed cheek, "You can't be too lenient with him like I was with you."
Anakin cackled, "Fuck you! You weren't lenient! You never let me get away with anything when I was a kid."
"Well, I made up for it in your adolescence."
He arrested the digit on his cheek and closed the distance between them, "You still think you're too lenient, don't you?"
Light brows shot up as though the answer was self-evident, "Yes, very much so. You have no manners or boundaries."
"A reasonable assessment."
His lips skimmed over Obi-Wan's. He pulled back but changed his mind and reconnected their mouths. Before the exchange could get too heated, a diminutive oomph and odd hissing noises filled the desert air. They both panickily jolted back, unexpectant of the interruption, and glanced around for the source. At the orbicular edge of the entry dome wall, they saw a petite hand picking up scattered Planetoid Poker Cards. They barely spared each other a glance before making their way over to Luke to help him pick up the deck of cards for a third time. The father of two addressed his son, "I thought you went inside."
"I did, but I wanted to give you this." He heavily blinked when a queen of hearts card was thrust towards him. "Uncle Owen said it's special. He says it means love and I love you, so I want you to have it."
He grinned and clamped the corner of the card, not yet taking it from its giver's grasp, "Thank you, Luke, but don't you think he'll get mad if you give his belongings away?"
"You and Obi picked up a million cards. He won't notice if one is gone."
His smile enlivened and he fully drew the card into his hand, "I'll take it. If he gives you trouble, send him to me."
"No," Luke's head harshly oscillated, "I'll send him to Obi."
Anakin cocked a hip, "And why is that?"
"'Cause Obi can talk to him without yelling and breaking stuff."
"Oh, whatever!"
::::
Anakin collapsed back against the passenger's seat with his palms mashed into his eyes, "He just got over being upset about what happened in the compound two months ago. He wouldn't talk to me for a year if he found out about us like that."
Obi-Wan tentatively rested a hand against his partner's tense shoulder as his other hand fixedly occupied the steering wheel, "I don't think you tearing apart the compound kitchen is on the same playing field as finding out you and I are in a relationship."
"I mean, no, there's no demon eyes involved, but he thinks of us as best friends-"
"We are best friends."
"Not the point. He thinks of us as best friends, not best friends who make out with each other. If he saw us kissing, it would probably freak him out. He wouldn't know the context, he wouldn't understand what's happening, and…I want to explain shit to him, not have it lobbed on him in a vivid visual."
"I understand," Obi-Wan commiserated. With a sharp intake of breath, he shyly suggested, "Maybe we should tell him."
Anakin hunched forwards to prop his forearms against the dash, "I'm not ready to tell him."
"Why not?"
Obi-Wan wasn't surprised when he received no response. He already knew all the doubt stemmed from longstanding agony and dread. I just need a little time to mentally prepare myself for all the questions he'll have. Primarily the ones he'll have about his mother. Although he recognized the harrowing place Anakin was coming from, he still wanted to tell Luke the truth. There was a chance the naïve child may feel perplexed or betrayed at first, but if they rationalized everything appropriately, including any queries about Senator Amidala, he didn't think those feelings would be permanent.
::::
He was deftly twisting the ratcheting socket wrench into the in-hex socket on the back of the cracked glowlamp when his vision went black. He smiled brighter than the Oolex Pulsar and shook his head against the hands blanketing his eyes, "What are you doing?"
"Stand up."
He tried to bury his laughter beneath a macabre tongue, "Why do I have the feeling my head is about to be dunked in lye?"
Obi-Wan jocosely snorted, "Because you're a maniac. This isn't a Huttese torture show." He added the slightest pressure to his veiling hands, "Stand up."
Anakin blindly docked the socket wrench on the coffee table, "Can you at least give me a hint as to why you're interrupting my…my ratcheting?"
He doubled over to place his lips next to his housemate's ear, "The only hint I'll give is you'll like your surprise. Now, for the third time, stand up."
The Tatooinian used the Stewjonian's wrists as balances to rise. Forearms settled lightly on his shoulders, performing as guides to steer him three steps to the right then eight steps forward. He was suddenly twirled in an incomplete circle then drawn to a halt. An unreserved chortle steamed through his lips, "Such a commendable try to disorient me, Obi-Wan, but I know we're facing the kitchen. Right where you keep the lye."
He could imagine half-lidded emerald eyes staring in tedium, "You would be able to smell a large accumulation of lye."
"Unless you masked the smell with-"
"Cake?"
"No, not cake," he snootily dismissed. Wait a second. He yanked the wrists in his hold and the hands over his eyes fell away, "Cake?"
After his vision adjusted to the sunlight, he was supremely pleased to spot a fawn bunt cake patiently waiting for him on their kitchen table. He hopped forward and encased his hands around the brim of the table to bend down and evaluate what type of cake he'd been presented with. Before he was able to make a definite diagnosis, a hand fanned out over his upper back, "Thank you."
Anakin transiently forgot his prize and turned towards its baker, "Why are you thanking me?"
"It is ten weeks today since we began remodeling our relationship."
"You should not be thanking me for that. I haven't exactly been a prize-winning participant in this process."
"I know you've experienced a few episodes, but that doesn't mean you haven't been trying. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate your efforts." Obi-Wan effervescently smiled, "I want you to know how proud of you I am."
Anakin's former master was the only person to ever vocalize such words to him. Though this wasn't the first instance, each time the honor was bestowed on him he was humbled. The gift of your pride renders this cake worthless. Well, almost. He spun around to give an appreciative hug, "Thank you."
The embrace was returned, "You're welcome."
"Now," he leaned back with a luminous grin, "fork."
Obi-Wan crossed the kitchen to retrieve the requested item from the sliding drawer beneath the sink. When he turned, Anakin was bouncing in place directly behind him. His eyebrows arched and his grin broadened when the fork was eagerly snatched from his hand. Anakin leapt back to the table and chopped a chunk straight off of the cake, forgoing a plate, and cheerfully crammed the bite in his mouth. Obi-Wan merely turned to get another fork and two mugs of bantha milk. Once he sat at the table, he took very little time to appreciate it was best to keep his hand out of the vicinity of the cake lest he risk being stabbed by wild kitchenware. He was satisfied to watch his culinary creation be enjoyed while keeping his fingers intact.
At some point, Anakin addressed him between mouthfuls, "You still make these so fucking perfect."
"I'm glad you think so considering I didn't have an antigrav whisk."
He extracted another forkful of glazed sweetness, "Doesn't matter. Still tastes perfect."
Obi-Wan smiled as he teetered his unused utensil over the back of his index finger, "You've eaten almost half of this cake by yourself already."
Anakin walled his arms around the cake plate, "Is this not intended as a reward to me?"
The Jedi toothily smiled, "A harmless observation. If I'd known this is what it takes to get you to eat, I would have been baking Iego angel food cakes since you first moved in."
The still-undernourished man didn't want to delve into the supersensitive subjects of his body weight or the status of his building appetite. He took a swig of his milk then swished the blue liquid around in its plastene mug, "Do you recall the last time you said you're proud of me?"
"It's a hyperspace blur, really."
"Yeah, right. I know you haven't forgotten my knighting."
Obi-Wan crossed his arms, "I remember you kept saying it was going to change everything even though I repeatedly assured you there was no reason to be nervous."
"Oh, such a blur."
"Alright, perhaps not. That's not to say I like to remember that rotation."
"I like to. I can still see you standing by the transparisteel windows, staring out over the cityscape. I walked up beside you and you glanced out of the corner of your eye with this microscopic smile. I thought you were going to tease me about officially becoming an adult or something, but you just said I'm proud of you."
He audibly exhaled, "Yes and if the rotation was made up of those few minutes alone, it'd be a memory I wouldn't mind revisiting."
Anakin's flesh hand invitingly extended towards him, "What better way to celebrate ten weeks of ameliorating and analyzing emotion than to talk about the rotation I was knighted? We've never spoken of it."
"You have the worst idea of what a celebration is."
"Come on," the younger man cooed, "reminisce with me."
"We could just eat cake."
He pushed the plate in front of him across the table, "I don't want to eat cake; I'm full. I want to talk about the rotation of my knighting."
Anakin was still composed of passionate intensity, unfaltering insistence, and argumentative propensities. He was still perpetually primed for a fight. Obi-Wan actively tried to participate in as few arguments as possible, fearful of sparking an emotional and spiritual degeneration in his soulmate, but it wasn't always easy. There were times when Anakin was compulsively hellbent on kindling a fight for one purpose or another.
The older Forceful knew discussing Anakin's knighthood could unravel into tears, a yelling match, or both, but there was no feasible finagling out of this nostalgia without making it seem like he didn't trust the progress of the last two months. I need to show him I have faith in our progress. Jade eyes hitched with cobalt ones, "Your hands were shaking. For two weeks, everywhere you went, during every interaction, even during the ceremony, you held your hands behind your back so no one would notice. The morning of the ceremony came and the Council read the rites, cut off your braid, et cetera. You refused to shake anyone's hand when they tried to congratulate you. I couldn't figure out why you were still so worried. I thought He's still the same person. He surely comprehends nothing has changed."
After a moment of hesitation, Anakin mediated, "Do you remember after the ceremony? When we got back to our quarters?"
"You threw the hilt of your lightsaber by my heels. I looked back and you asked Do you really not know what I'm upset about. I just stared. I didn't have a clue what you were talking about. Then you stomped to your bedroom and began throwing your clothes onto the bed. I tried to grab your arm, but you shoved against my chest and said How could you not know what I'm upset about. I think I said something to the effect of I'm not a telepathist." There was a minuscule pull at the corners of Obi-Wan's lips, "You threw a roo-wood hanger at me. I ducked around it, stood upright, looked at you. Two teardrops, one from each eye, were tumbling down your cheeks. You said You're kicking me out."
Anakin turned sideways in his chair, "And you said You're no longer my padawan or required to be supervised by me. You've earned your independence and it is no longer appropriate for us to live together."
"You screamed I don't want my own billet. Please don't make me leave."
"Then you said no other Master and Knight lived together. It's inappropriate, it's inappropriate, you kept saying. Never mind no Knight and padawan lived together either. That's why I was in such a state leading up to and on the rotation of my knighting. I knew you weren't going to let me stay with you."
"I didn't have the authority to let you stay. Our living arrangement was already a highly unusual exception decided by the Council and it would have taken an interplanetary armageddon for them to decide we needed to continue living together after you were knighted."
Anakin glowered in barefaced, unimpressed irritation, "There's no reason we shouldn't have been allowed to continue living together if we both wanted to. It wasn't against the Code, it wasn't profligate, it wouldn't cause harm to anyone. It was simply against arbitrary Temple rules the Council invented."
"It was a lesson in self-sufficiency. To not become so…" Obi-Wan delayed, registering the futility of the message. Nonetheless, he finished his sentiment, "…attached."
Anakin stood and enfolded his fingers around the top horizontal bar on the back of his chair, "Then they should have never fucking moved us in together to begin with. They should have just fucking kicked me out. Did you want me to move out after my knighting?"
Obi-Wan effortlessly sighted the signs of Anakin's burgeoning fury. The tone of voice, the word choice, the inability to sit still. He knew he should abandon the discussion to keep the peace, but he didn't want to open the door to erroneous inferences. Despite the leaps and bounds achieved in the last few weeks, his friend still had a knack for jumping to the wrong conclusions. Though logic demanded disengagement, he couldn't stand the thought of Anakin misconstruing his silence as a spurn. He joylessly sighed, "No. I felt so empty after you left."
"Me, too. It was another reason I couldn't stand the Council. Their imbecilic rules and the stringent social expectancies enforced-"
A small laugh absconded from the back of his throat, "You vigorously and continually bucked up against what the Order regarded as socially and morally acceptable. You fought with the Council and other Jedi, you disobeyed direct orders constantly, you took a wife, you fathered children. You cannot pass yourself off as a helpless, persecuted victim under the Council, Code, or Order."
An umbra-esque shadow shrouded sapphirine eyes, "Their axioms and guidelines separated us, kept us apart. I hate them for it."
He slowly stressed, "Don't say things like that."
"It's what I feel. It's what I've always felt."
Separated us, kept us apart. Something as trifling as not being allowed to live together in the Temple was an apparent devastation for Anakin. Is this how it all began? Little scraps that built up into a monster? What parts of this monster did you use me as an excuse to construct? The Jedi knew he shouldn't voice the thoughts permeating his mind. They possessed the potential to turn this somewhat tense exchange into an all-out brawl. Nevertheless, he wanted the open line of communication they'd been developing to stay in working order, even if their topics of talk were not necessarily palatable. Maybe if I keep my emotion in check, he will do the same. Surely our last disagreement showed him we have to approach things calmly. His hand chafed over his mouth before he finally mustered up the courage to opine, "Then I was a more pivotal component in your descent into darkness than you have led me to believe."
He tried to convey an evenhanded tone and demeanor, but it was vastly unlikely his mortification went unheard, "How often did you blame the Council and Order for things that happened between us? Tell me, could it have amassed enough bitterness to contribute to subconscious actions against the Jedi?"
Anakin combatively slapped his flesh hand to the top of the kitchen table, "The only reason I worked against the Jedi was to avert my wife's death."
Obi-Wan's voice skulked out in a dispairing whisper, "I said subconscious. I don't think you realized your resentment was playing a part in how you were behaving."
He gritted through clipped teeth, "I guess we'll never know since we can't access my subconscious."
"You're livid by the mention of it."
"Yeah, by and large I get kriffing livid when people accuse me of hating the Jedi!"
Internally, Obi-Wan screamed at himself to back off. This can only get worse from here. Yet something else, something masochistic deep in his pneuma compelled him to press on, to search for the hideous, petrifying truth. He needed to know what Anakin felt towards the Jedi and Sith. Could his former padawan's attitude towards the light and dark sides of the Force be attributed to his vain teachings? Did he fail to concretely define the critical differences between the two? Did he make it seem like the dark side was full of promise and rectitude?
He should have made wiser decisions. He should have been a better teacher, more observant. He knew as far back as Master Yaddle's death he should have resigned his padawan to another more suitable and knowledgeable master. Maybe he could have prevented all the suffering and treachery. Maybe Anakin wouldn't have become smitten with him. In the time since they'd admitted their feelings to one another, he never stopped to consider Anakin's age-old affinity for him most likely had created a greater susceptibility to darkness.
With all of the tear-inducing regret and proclamations of wanting to assist in the rebellion, he never dared to consider his former brother-in-arms might still harbor ill-will towards the Jedi. Did this potential hostility equate to support of the Sith? There were times he could recall in which Anakin dragged Sidious and the Sith through the mud, but were those merely impotent assertions said only to fend off scrutiny?
The real reason he needed to collect the fallen Jedi's viewpoint wasn't only because of guilt. It was because of complete and far-flung fear. If his significant other still supported the Sith… I need it straight from his mouth. Maybe my conjectures are totally off the mark. He took a sickening, shaky breath. Please be off the mark. He indicatively pointed, "You're the one who said you hate them."
Anakin began pacing in the middle of the kitchen floor with wildly waving hands, "I said I hated the Council and the societal expectations the Jedi maintained, not the Jedi."
Obi-Wan was no longer willing to sacrifice this dialogue to avoid an argument. I need your heart, not guarded deflections. He stood from his chair and harangued his mobile mate, "You loathed your fellow Initiates and padawans while growing up, you loathed the Council which were composed of Jedi, you loathed the Code which was designed by Jedi, you-"
The Tatooinian paused in his pace to pitch his hands towards his accuser, "I don't loathe you!"
The words hit like a pressure bomb, reviving a memory which never seemed particularly significant until now. I eventually grasped the importance of being a Jedi, of being a protector, a defender, a part of something greater than myself. It was reason to remain in the Order. At least, it should have been… In all honesty, I needed to stay close to you. That's why I never left no matter how much I wanted to. Obi-Wan couldn't believe he missed something this influentially massive… "I am an exception, not the rule. I never put any thought into what a decisive role your feelings toward the Order and me played in your fall to the dark side."
Anakin was aware he was the one who brought up his knighthood. He was the one who brought up the Order. He was the one losing his temper. Although he wanted to prove to Obi-Wan he was in better control of his emotions than he was two months prior, he couldn't seem to cache his choler, "Why are you fragging on about this?"
"You stayed in a place you detested with people you reviled only so you could be close to me, which means I was a requisite in your mortal destruction."
Despite the emphatic warnings to walk away sounding off in his head, he couldn't chill the hot molten, sulfuric rage boiling inside him. At that moment, to him, the suns were dark and heaven was full of damnation. You behaved like a good bitch for ten weeks and he repays you in indictments. He wants you to be the indefensible villain, so why don't you give him what he wants?
Blue irises shaded a pall of pink as he stiffly glared at Obi-Wan. A snarl coiled over his lips and his voice dipped an octave, "You think you're the reason? No. No, you can never be blamed for what they did. They mocked me, harassed me, cowered at the sight of me, tried to fuck me, oppressed me, used me as a weapon, made me think I'm worthless and insane…why wouldn't I hate them? Why wouldn't I want to destroy them? They separated you and me, pinned us against each other, sent us to war, spilled our blood, brainwashed us, used our minds and bodies! How can you not be relieved we are free of their cult of death and enslavement?"
Ahsoka gave warning. …how about we start with him spouting out he's filled with so much hatred he could rip somebody's throat out and have a good laugh about it. Obi-Wan didn't take it as seriously as it needed to be taken. Now it was boring him down, scraping at his eardrums, chomping at his aorta, ugly, unbearable, unfathomable. How long had this been snowballing inside Anakin? A little more than thirteen years passed from the time of his arrival at the Temple to his fall into darkness. How was Obi-Wan a good enough excuse to endure thirteen years of desolation and woe?
"If you were that miserable, you should have left. If you did, he would have never been able to… It wasn't only your vast power. He saw the hatred in you. And I…" I can't stop until I know. "I don't know if he still has a hold on you in some way. I thought you'd learned better, but you still don't see the dark side for what it really is. You still think the Jedi were wrong."
Anakin lowered his reddening eyes to the flextile and rigidly swallowed in an attempt to douse the flames sprouting in the hollow muscular organ of his chest. Forget what it said to you. Don't say anything back. In spite of this split moment of lucidity, Obi-Wan's sharply rising chest riled him. I've upset you this much? You tell me I'm full of hatred yet you're the one upset? I can make you upset.
His glowing eyes flitted back to Obi-Wan's, "No, I know what Sith-damn darkness is. Between the two of us, I am the one who knows what darkness is! I dissolved in the belly of the beast, so don't try to tell me I don't know what it is! I know Sidious used me the same way the Jedi did! It doesn't mean two truths can't exist in the same reality! It doesn't mean the Jedi weren't as war-hungry as the Sith were! As soon as they saw an opportunity for an endless conflict, they jumped for joy and fired up their military machine! They wanted to flex their muscles and expand their influence and they deserved to be stopped as much as he did!"
Obi-Wan spoke without any consideration, "You were war-hungry. You could never get to a battle fast enough and you killed without consideration. You never tried to de-escalate situations. Even when you were younger, before the War, you impaled crime-lords and slave raiders, you telekinetically burned Tarkin's bodyguard from the inside out, you-"
"Have you ever killed anybody, Obi-Wan?" Anakin rhetorically retorted. "Did you kill anybody before, during, or after the War? I think you did! We were both conditioned into mindless assassins, so don't act so pious!"
"You're the one acting pious. You're acting as though the Jedi-" he clenched his teeth to bite the sentence in two. How could I even begin to say that to him?
"Finish what you were going to say," Anakin heatedly dared. Upon no response, he decided to fill in the core-crunching spaces, "You're acting as though the Jedi are the corrupt ones when you were warring on the side of the Sith, killing younglings! That's what you want to say, isn't it? Killing younglings, killings younglings; it's all you can fucking consider, isn't it? Then let's consider the fact that the Force-fucking Jedi killed more younglings than I could ever dream of killing! Break a child into a solider, kill the soldier, scare up more children, repeat, repeat! They reveled in any excuse to abduct and indoctrinate more progeny who may one day engender a threat to their faction!
"Once you were in their cycle of servitude, they forced you to bow to their credo and toil as their foot soldier unless you became too powerful, in which case you were promptly targeted for annihilation, sometimes by your own friends if you were lucky! In that world, you were the butcher or the sacrifice and even then, you weren't given a choice! Let's face it, Obi-Wan, when I killed those kids, I delivered them from the Jedi. They'd been walking corpses from the minute their free will was taken and it was only going to get worse for them."
Obi-Wan's diaphragm refused to relax and move into his chest cavity. He knew there'd been a monumental chance he wouldn't like the answers to the questions he'd posed, but he hadn't been expecting to receive the most nauseating answers available. He opened his mouth to demand if the awful words just shouted insinuated endorsement for the Sith, but his heartsick soul spoke instead, "I don't believe you. I don't believe you mean that."
Anakin's voice tremored under its own bitter vehemence, "You don't believe me because you've forgotten you entered into a relationship with a treasonous, despicable war criminal. Well, I've got bad news, sweetheart: I think anyone, anyone, is better off dead than living as a slave. I was better off bleeding out on the black sands of Mustafar than continuing to be the Jedi or Sith's blank-slate slave! You may have been content with your bondage, but I wasn't! I never was!
"Do you want to know why I could live in isolation for five years in the Lake Country? For the first time in my life I was no one's captive! It's why I ran away from that Toydarian sleemo! It's why I fought against the Council and Code! It's why I tried to fucking choke Sidious! All I've ever, ever wanted was to be free and all everybody around me has ever wanted was to lie to, brainwash, and enslave me!"
With this final claim, Obi-Wan finally countered, "I don't want to do any of those things. Senator Amidala never tried to do any of those things either."
"She backed away from the abyss when she saw it. In time, you will, too."
This has turned into a test. In spite of the impassioned revulsion he felt towards much of what he'd just heard, Obi-Wan refused to fail Anakin. He promised they could talk about anything. He promised they'd conquer their misery together. He'd rather die than go back on those promises. He testified, "I'm not backing away because you're in a mood to press buttons."
Anakin's voice significantly quietened, "I think one day you will. One day you'll appreciate it wasn't only you or Padmé or the Order or power or my everlasting hatred. There's so much inborn proclivity that went into my quest for darkness, you will never see the breadth of it." His fist beat against his palpitating chest, "Ten weeks means nothing against a lifetime of malediction."
The Stewjonian crossed the distance between them to delicately lay a kiss over a teary, coral eye, "It means everything. It means I shouldn't take your healing for granted and I shouldn't goad you like I just did. I wanted to know your outlook on the dark side, but it seems all I've done is push you towards it, a recurrent plight for me."
A cybernetic arm wrapped around his waist, "Have you considered I am the dark side?"
Inborn proclivity. "No, because you aren't. You are like Abeloth, the Bringer of Chaos- an open port to the light and dark sides of the Force, attuned and powerful in both cosmic realms. You are neither realm but do have unchecked access to both. Sometimes, I wish you didn't because you lose your bearings from time to time."
Anakin's eyes tightly closed, "No, the blackness is not my dwelling, it is me. It's my blood. It's my tears, my bones, my breath, my words, my scars, the smell in my skin. It is me. We both just try to deny it."
Obi-Wan's vocal cords scratched like sandpaper, "Did I do something to cause this? All of this. When you were a youngling or a teenager, did I do something to make you so-so clouded and venomous?"
There was a spell of silence before the misgiving was met, "My mother told me I was an immaculately conceived child. I have no father she said, but I do have a father and I've known it in the pit of soul since I could properly cognize. The Cosmic Force is my father. And since the Force is made up of light and darkness, I was partially conceived by the dark side of the Force. I am darkness. This odium and rage were born to me."
This was the first time Anakin spoke about his father or lack thereof. The only reason Obi-Wan didn't write off what was said as dyed-in-the-wool insanity was because he still believed his old padawan was the Chosen One.
As per legend, the Cosmic Force would sire an heir, a Chosen One, by an ordinary female, passing on great cosmic ability. The only begotten heritor of the Force would go through many trials before bringing balance to his embattled father.
Then what if I'm wrong? What if he isn't like Abeloth? Since the Force was comprised of two parcels, rationally its offspring would incarnate both as well. Has it been a part of him from the second he was conceived? Was his destiny, his trial, to turn to the dark side? Was it something that could have never been avoided? Or was his trial to rebuke the darkness when it tried to take him? Did he fail his trial?
Obi-Wan gazed into incandescent eyes, "Even if you were given to your mother with darkness in your soul, it doesn't matter. We could have never prevented it and can never change it. The past two months have proven we can work to lessen the dark side's influence, so let's work with what we have. We can't get caught up in trying to change the past, dictate the future, or eradicate something we have no power to eradicate." His hand streamed down the back of Anakin's neck, "I know we have so much more to talk about, but I have faith in you and the progress we've made."
Rose and indigo-streaked eyes misted over, "I don't know how you can have any faith in me when I carry on like I just did."
"I already gave you my justification. I don't believe you meant everything you said. Not to mention, your eyes are recolored. I know the last time this happened, you told me you were utterly overwhelmed emotionally. Is that what happened a moment ago or did it say something to you?"
"Both."
His fingers dug into the base of the brunette's skull, "Did it generate the thoughts you expressed or simply influence how you expressed them?"
"I don't know. Most of it was my thoughts, some of it wasn't, and I…" He patiently waited for Anakin to take a number of meditative breaths and simmer down enough to speak. He wasn't anticipating the breakneck left turn, "Before you and Master Qui-Gon found me, I fantasized about tearing out Watto's throat. The only reason I didn't was because I feared my mother may look at me in disgust. When I was fourteen, I dreamt of dissecting Iy'steir's torso with my lightsaber. The only reason I didn't was because I feared you would look at me in disgust. I thought about massacring the Council, present company excluded, on a daily basis for twelve years."
"Crashing stars, Anakin. Why have you never spoken of this? Did you think it was at all healthy to keep thoughts like these pent up in your head?"
"I haven't told you a lot of things," the disgraced Jedi despondently confessed. His hand skated around the back of Obi-Wan's forearm and his face turned against the older man's inner wrist, "I want to tell you something. I've never told you before and it's- you're not going to like it."
"What is it?"
His wettened eyes closed as his lips moved against the soft skin he nuzzled, "It's equally as bad as what I did at the end of the War."
"What is it, Anakin?"
After inhaling the soothing smell of sapir, eukamint, and oranges, he misplaced his backbone, "Forget I mentioned it. I can't tell you."
Obi-Wan stepped closer, "Why not?"
"I don't want to give you any more basis to distrust me."
His arms instinctively sheathed Anakin's upper and lower back, mashing their bodies together, and his nose compressed against the velvety cheek turned towards him, "Communication and candor are the most effectual instruments we can use to strengthen our trust. Tell me."
With the reassuring heat of Obi-Wan's body encompassing him, Anakin bloomed open like a poro poppy at daybreak, "A month before the Battle of Geonosis, I kept having horrible dreams about my mother dying. I know I was supposed to be guarding Padmé at the time, but when I told her about the dreams, when I told her I had to go to Tatooine and rescue Mom, she insisted to come with me. It was the first time I met the Larses." He facetiously laughed, "Owen Lars didn't have a problem with me back then, though I suppose we didn't interact much. I think the stories from the end of the War is probably what made him decide he hates my guts. Anyway, I set out alone to find Mom and located her in a Tusken camp."
A pitiful noise escaped the back of his throat when he tried to speak. Crystalline tears dripped from his eyes and he rammed his face into Obi-Wan's neck, "They had tortured her. She died in my arms. So, I killed them. Every last one of them. Young, old, innocent, guilty. It didn't matter. I told Padmé. I know I should have told you, too, but I was afraid you'd tell the Council and I'd be kicked out of the Order. Then I'd be separated from you. I couldn't bear the thought of being indefinitely separated from you."
"You're right. You should have told me."
"I know. It would have shown you what I would become and you deserved that warning. You deserved to know it's always been a part of me, growing with my rancor and fear." A sob bounced off of every wall of the room, "I should have warned you I'm a monster; an absolutely heartless monster."
The perturbed Jedi lodged his cheek against the side of Anakin's head, "You are not a monster, faneta. I am sorry I got you worked up like this. Let's stop, okay? Let's stop talking about this for now. Sit down and I'll make tea."
Anakin followed his directions, releasing him and sitting in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He solemnly made his way across the kitchen and put jeru tea on to brew. He jumped when he turned to throw crumbled tea leaves in the trash, alarmed to find Anakin standing close behind him, soundlessly staring with dull eyes. After a bout of awkwardness, a leather-gloved hand lifted towards him. He instantly took the outstretched hand and was drawn into a loose hug, "Anything good inside of me only exists because of you. You are the sole moral compass I've ever listened to and if I'd listen to you more, I wouldn't keep leading us into darkness."
Obi-Wan's chin sunk into a sharp shoulder and he returned the embrace, "Do you remember the mission on Ruusan?"
"Vaguely."
"We ended up covered in mud and brackish water mosquitos while your handheld navigation computer led us in all sorts of sporadic directions. We were in that bog well into the night and you said over and over you knew where you were going, so I followed." He squeezed protruding shoulder blades, "You can lose your way and wander through the dark for eternity, and I'll keep following you." He singed a kiss against Anakin's clavicle, "Let's drink our tea then we can go to bed and meditate."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm the one who should be sorry, for egging you on."
"I deserve no excuse. I know what the Order and Council meant to you."
"I don't need you to sanitize your emotions to protect me."
"Well, did you ever think I want to protect you?"
"Did you ever think I don't want to be protected?"
Anakin cupped a bristly jaw to turn Obi-Wan's head towards him, "Yeah, well, I want to protect you even when you tell me not to. They were your whole life and you believed in them with all your heart. I shouldn't have said anything and I'm sorry. I will never do it again."
A muted smile garnished the blonde's lips, "And I will never purposely provoke you again. Now, come on. Tea and then bed."
::::
Sometime in the night, an arm gently swathed around his chest. He didn't think much of it and tried to go back to sleep, but his attempt to rediscover slumberland was summarily squashed as lips danced against his ear, "I'm proud and thankful to be the light of your life."
He groaned, "What do you want? You already cracked the code to the container with my credit ingots."
There was a flick to the back of his bicep, "I'm telling you shame has nothing to do with why I don't want to tell Luke about us."
He comfortingly clutched the mechanical forearm over his torso, "I know that's not the reason."
"Good," Anakin sighed in relief and sewed a series of slow, fragile kisses against the line of Obi-Wan's neck. After his lips brushed the side of the center on the Jedi's throat, he sultrily repeated, "Good."
It started with a kiss over the carotid artery. The second he felt the palpation of Obi-Wan's pulse, his lips parted and he latched onto the skin beneath the other Forceful's jaw, right beside the windpipe. One suckle turned into three which turned into eight, continuing until an astral-eyed Obi-Wan tried to protest the ardent affection, "Jaguarete…" A negligible nick of teeth sent shockwaves through his body and his fingertips lightly drove the amorous Tatooinian back by the forehead, "You have to stop doing that."
Anakin caught the hindering hand and tugged it away from his face, immediately reattaching his mouth to the same spot as before, sucking. Obi-Wan tried to make himself roll away, but domesticating caranaks was a less difficult task. Despite anything pointing to the contrary, he wanted to touch, undress, pleasure, and worship the man he loved. Badly. He wanted to explore and experience everything with Anakin, but he didn't want any of it to happen while his intended was unwell, in any sense of the word.
Admittedly, this highly notable fact fell further and further to the wayside with each little suckle to the pulse point on his neck. He didn't know what impelled Anakin to give him a hickey, but whatever the reason, it was electrifying every part of his body. His head tilted further into his pillow, willingly, cravingly giving total access to his bedmate.
A hand lovingly caressed his waist and hip as the mind-fraying suction gradually waned.
Anakin panted against the deep red mark he'd made, "I don't ever want to be apart from you."
Obi-Wan's lust-filled daze instantaneously dissipated. He swiveled onto his back to stare up at his housemate with muddled, shrinking eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you we won't be apart?"
Anakin's hand slid over his bruising artwork, "I know ten weeks ago was hell and within the last twenty-four hours I haven't been an ideal companion by even the laziest standards-"
"Let's concentrate on the progress we've made, not on earlier tonight."
"I insulted the Order you were a part of since childhood. I insulted the Council you were a member of. I insulted the Code you've always abided by. I insulted your very existence without a single cautionary thought."
"You said it spoke to you. I know when it does, you express yourself in much more vitriolic ways than usual and I am perfectly capable of withstanding your amplified emotions."
Anakin nestled the side of his head into the pillow next to Obi-Wan's, "I don't want you to have to withstand them."
"You can't control-"
"My mouth? It's very simple, Obi-Wan. It's called shut up. I need to shut up for once."
Obi-Wan twisted his head around to stare Anakin straight on, "I don't want you to shut up. I worked tirelessly to make you talk and the last thing I want is for you to stop talking. Sometimes our emotions aren't pretty or polished, but that doesn't mean we should try to hide them. We don't have to agree on everything or have the same opinions as one another to express ourselves."
"I basically said I was happy to kill younglings. That goes beyond unpretty or unpolished emotion."
"You were trying to use shock to demonstrate the severity in which you oppose the Order's practices. It was unnecessary and unsettling, but I know you did it to make a point." He kissed the tip of the other man's nose, "I know how you are, Anakin. You speak in hyperbole and use the most aggressive terminology you can in an altercation. You'll say things you don't even necessarily mean or feel to get the reaction you want. I can prove you weaponize language right now. Do you think the Initiates you killed are better off dead than alive?"
The sadness in Anakin's eyes was palpable, "No, of course not. Though I would still argue their lives would have been better if they never joined the Order. But then, they would have been better off without me in their lives too, so I guess I don't really have room to talk, do I?"
"This is why I take what you say in distemper or under external influences with a grain of salt. I know how you are."
"You were shaking. You were almost hyperventilating. You can't bluff like what I said didn't disturb and offend you. When you looked at me, it was like you didn't even recognize me."
Obi-Wan twisted onto his side and coasted his arm over the taller man's waist to bring their bodies closer, "I'll admit I was broken up for a minute, but once I thought about it, I absorbed why you said what you did and what you actually meant."
"You can't excuse every atrocious thing I do or say."
"I don't, but I know how much pain you must be in to hold so much rage. Although I don't accept everything you said, I do accept your pain."
Anakin grappled onto Obi-Wan's shoulder, "I don't want my pain or poor self-control to be a pretext to insult you and everything you've ever cared about."
He was caught off-guard by pleasant chuckles, "The Order and Council are not the only things I've ever cared about."
The smallest of smiles spread over his lips, "You know what I mean."
Obi-Wan's hand slid over Anakin's lower back, "I don't want you to think you have to conceal something or keep silent because you're afraid you're going to hurt my feelings. I am not weak-minded or weak-spirited and you are not going to cause any damage to me or our relationship if you are speaking the truth as you perceive it. If you choose to keep any ire or doubts locked in your head, the darkness will take root and grow. That's where the damage comes from."
"Once upon a time, the truth as I perceive it caused us to clash lightsabers."
He kissed Anakin's chin, "The circumstances are not the same at all. You didn't have episodes, you were consumed. You also were…fighting for him. Though I think your disdain for the Jedi is misplaced, you at least now share your disdain for them with Sidious."
"You're saying even if I'm not fighting on the side of the Jedi, it's okay as long as I'm not fighting on the side of the Sith either."
"That's the way I see it."
"Don't you think you're giving me an extraordinary exception you wouldn't for anyone else?"
His eyebrow arched, "Would I, as a Jedi, do harm to a neutral civilian during wartime?"
"No."
"Then no, I am not giving exception."
Anakin closed his eyes for a couple minutes, only re-opening them when lips nudged the right corner of his mouth, "It's not good enough, Obi-Wan. I don't want you to just accept things the way they are. I have to comport myself better."
Obi-Wan coaxed his beloved flat on the bed then melded a hand against one of the man's cheeks, "This is the most severe episode you've had in two months, Anakin. You're trying to change problematic behavior and it's expected you'll have relapses." When there was a clear effort to interject, he hurriedly tacked on, "I'm trying to change alongside you and I relapsed tonight, too. I knew you were upset or being influenced and engaged anyway. Sometimes there will be reversals in our progress, but it doesn't mean we are failing."
The brunette's flooded eyes focused on the ceiling, "This…it's not good enough, Obi-Wan. If I can't treat you like you deserve, I shouldn't be here."
The Stewjonian swooped down to press their foreheads together, "After the fiasco at the salt flat, hour after hour passed and I couldn't find you. I thought you went off-planet and I was prepared to forage every star, satellite, and spacecraft until I found you. I didn't care how long it was going to take. Even if it took years, I would search until I found you." He deposited a quick succession of kisses to his partner's lips, "You always have the prerogative to leave, but you must know I have the prerogative to follow."
"What if I don't want you to follow?"
"Are you saying you have already predetermined you're going to leave if we have another heated conversation like tonight's?"
"That's not what I meant. I just don't want to hold you prisoner in a deleterious situation."
"You seem to view our relationship through inconceivably cynical lenses, which is why you're preparing yourself for its end. That's not how I view our relationship. To me, no matter what happens we have chosen a life together. I have never made this choice with anyone else because you're the sole person I love and am bound to. I will never leave and the only way I wouldn't fight to keep you from leaving is if you shattered my heart so completely, I didn't have the physical strength to stand up."
Unexpectedly, Obi-Wan's back hit the mattress. A sizzling sensation flowered in his chest and stomach as Anakin crawled overtop of him. The feeling magnified when cybernetic knees bent on either side of his hips and an invigorating kiss enclosed his lips.
Closeness was the only thing Anakin really cared about when his silver-tongued soulmate sweet-talked him.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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