Obi-Wan finds Anakin in their shared quarters. He is sat on the ground in a meditative position, but it is clear that his attempts at connecting with the force have been unsuccessful. It swirls tensely in the air between them, telling Obi-Wan that Anakin is about ready to snap. His former padawan has always had quite the temper, but never has it been so tightly wound as it is right now. His chest heaves with uneaven breaths and his face is pursed tightly, eyebrows narrowed over eyes squeezed shut.

'I've been looking for you,' he dares say. He may need to tread carefully, but he is not afraid.

'Have you?' Anakin sneers.

'Yes. Senator Amidala told me you seemed upset, something about your meeting with the Chancellor distressed you?'

'Not him,' he says. His voice is deathly calm, and his lips turn into a twisted smirk. 'The Chancellor is a smart man, Master. He helps me see things... Make sense of them.'

'How very kind of him,' Obi-Wan's response is full of biting sarcasm, and as Anakin's eyes flash open he knows he has made a mistake. Like stepping on a bomb in a minefield, the younger Jedi is standing so fast Obi-Wan barely sees him move.

'It's your fault, all of it!' He snarls, 'you agree with them! You don't trust me! You're all jealous, jealous because I am the chosen one! And none moreso than you!'

'Don't be absurd,' Obi-Wan scoffs, but Anakin has not finished.

'I understand now. You report back to them, don't you? That's why you didn't want to stop sharing quarters when I became a knight. You tell them I'm not good enough to be a master, all so you have something over me! Something that makes you more "important" than I am!'

'Your mind is stuck in childish fantasies!' Obi-Wan growls, losing his own temper now. 'You're mad if you believe that! I have been trying to tell them you will soon be ready for it, but your actions are certainly proving me wrong!'

'Jealous!' Anakin roars, seemingly unable to come up with more words to explain his frustrations. He force shoves Obi-Wan against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. Soon his hands curl around his shoulders and he shoves him backwards once more.

'Calm yourself, Anakin! You are not a youngling! You must clear your mind of this madness. This passion for such poisonous beliefs will do you no good!'

'"Passion,"' Anakin sneers, 'what would you know about it? All you do is play by the imhumane rules of the Jedi. What I am feeling is normal for our kind!'

'I know a lot more about it than you will clearly let yourself believe! But I, unlike you, am actually able to control myself!'

'Satine is dead because of you! You chose the Jedi over passion, and look where it got her! Don't pretend to understand!'

Obi-Wan feels nothing but hypocritical as his blood begins to boil, anger at Anakin's accusation and hatred for the Chancellor poisoning his former padawan's mind swirl through his force signature, and Anakin grins.

'Yes, Master. Feel it.'

Obi-Wan lets out a noise of frustration and then suddenly he is yanking Anakin down, latching himself onto his lips. Anakin's hands are trapped against Obi-Wan's chest as his hands grasp at Anakin's shoulders, fingers curling into black tunics as he pushes his tongue into Anakin's mouth. His anger begins to ebb, giving way to confusion - and desire. Yes, Obi-Wan's presumption was correct. This all stemmed from Anakin's desire - desire for himself.

It takes the feeling of his former master's tongue brushing against his own to bring Anakin back to his senses. He kisses Obi-Wan back with fevour, using the placement of his hands to battle the ties of his tunics. Once the first layer is open he moves back slightly to push it off his shoulders, and Obi-Wan uses this as an opportunity to force push Anakin backwards, dropping him on the couch. He opens his eyes to the sight of an unkempt Obi-Wan removing his undershirt. Now he is half-naked, eyes dark with lust and lips swollen from their kisses. Anakin begins unbuckling his own tunics of leather, but Obi-Wan is on him before he can finish.

Anakin moans as his former master's lips descend on his once again. He straddles the younger Jedi's waist, enjoying how his hands immediately come to explore his bare chest. Their kisses become needier as their teeth clash, tongues entwine wildly as Obi-Wan finishes unfastening Anakin's tunics. He rises from the couch slightly to shrug them off, then they part lips long enough for Obi-Wan to lift his undershirt over Anakin's head. He slides down slightly and drops his lips to Anakin's tanned chest, biting and sucking at his skin in a way that has the younger Jedi writhing underneath him, eyes squeezed shut in delight. His tongue grazes one of Anakin's peaked nipples, causing a moan to escape his lips. He unintentionally thrusts upwards - a choked noise follows as his aching erection bumps against Obi-Wan's abdomen. The older Jedi brings his hands to the ties of Anakin's leggings.

'Look at me,' he growls. Anakin obeys, opening hooded, darkened eyes to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. He has never seen his former master wear an expression like it - it's almost a mix between greed and delight. His lust-clouded eyes sparkle with a smug sense of joy, and his lips flicker in and out of a smirk and biting of his lower lip as he looks down at where he is slowly peeling away Anakin's loose leggings. The younger Jedi wants to throw his head back, close his eyes tight and let Obi-Wan do what he wants with him, but he has been ordered to watch.

'Is this all you wanted?' Obi-Wan asks, his voice soft as he begins massaging the inside of Anakin's thighs. He locks eyes with him again, lowering his mouth to his hipbone to bite a trail down to the beginning of his pubic hair.

'Please,' he gasps, finding it difficult to breathe through the lust raking through his body. The force crackles with it.

Obi-Wan's hand comes down on the side of his thigh, causing Anakin to jump in shock. The place it connected with burns deliciously - Anakin is sure it will leave a mark.

'I am your Master, Anakin. Please address me as such.'

'Please, Master,' he chokes. Kriffing hell, who knew he would have a kink for that?

Who knew Anakin would like it so much?

Pleased with Anakin's submission, Obi-Wan wraps his hand around the base of Anakin's erection and leans closer. The younger Jedi's eyes widen almost comically, and the flush in his cheek deepens as he bites down on his lower lip. He can feel Obi-Wan's hot breath against the tip and it's driving him mad, but after a moment of teasing he lowers his tongue and licks up from where his hand sits to where pre-cum has gathered, then his mouth closes around him completely and slides downward.

'Oh kriff!' Anakin yelps, eyes rolling backwards and head dropping in pleasure. Obi-Wan hollows his cheeks, setting a slow pace as to swirl his tongue around his tip once he draws upward and trail it along the base as he takes him deeper. Anakin is quickly lost to the mixed sensations. He grabs a fistful of Obi-Wan's hair with one hand and clutches at the couch with the other, attempting to ground himself but unable to do so with the intensity of the orgasm building within him.

'Master,' he cries, wanting to give him warning. Suddenly, his mouth and hand is gone. It takes him a moment to realise, and when he does Anakin lets out a loud range of expletives.

'On your knees,' Obi-Wan snaps. Anakin does as he is told, and suddenly his stomach pools with anxiety - he's left the room. Where has he gone? Is he just going to leave him like this?

But he returns soon after, and Anakin realises as a finger begins to tease his opening where Obi-Wan had got off to. The lotion feels cold against his overheated skin, but he couldn't care less. His arms begin to shake with the effort of holding himself upright at the pleasure his ministrations ignite. He slides a single digit inside, and the mix of discomfort and pleasure have him whimpering.

'If it at any point becomes too much, tell me to stop,' Obi-Wan says, his voice slightly softer as he leans over to plant a kiss by Anakin's earlobe.

'Yes, Master,' he says, knowing full well he will not be asking him to do that. The seperatists could start invading now and Anakin would still urge him to keep going.

Another finger joins the first, and to even out the discomfort and pleasure Obi-Wan begins stroking Anakin's erection, sliding his thumb over the tip as he begins stretching him out. Anakin is panting - he claws at the cushion beneath him, whimpering and gasping. It's too much. Too much, but nowhere near enough.

'Please, Master. Please. I'm ready.'

'Ready for what, Anakin?' He asks. Anakin grinds his teeth as his fingers brush against his prostate. Damn tease.

'Ready for you to fuck me, Master. Please, fuck me.'

Obi-Wan's breath falters at hearing Anakin beg for it like that. He shifts position, removing his fingers to add more lotion to his erection before lining himself up at Anakin's entrance. The younger Jedi bites his lip as his master pushes inside him, slowly relaxing as to take him deeper. He pauses for a moment, reaching down to wrap his hands around him once more, slowly working him back into a lust-crazed fevour.

'Yes, Master. Go, please. Do it.'

Obi-Wan grasps at Anakin's hips and thrusts inwards, causing both of them to moan at the delicious sensations. He starts off slow, but it's not long before the pace is quickening. Anakin begins thrusting himself backwards, letting out expletive after expletive in every language that comes to mind as Obi-Wan fucks him. The older Jedi finds his old padawan's reactions to him positively mesmerising. He wants to kiss him - to smother his dirty words with his mouth, turn them into mumbled nothings with his tongue. He releases a pent-up groan and thrusts quicker, taking Anakin in hand again and stroking him in time with their thrusts.

'Come for me, dear one,' he orders, feeling his stomach tighten at the feral cries leaving Anakin's throat. He cries out too, feeling his vision blur as his pleasure reaches its peak. Anakin almost screams, and Obi-Wan feels him come in his hand. He thrusts harder, and then he's joining Anakin, releasing deep inside him.

He pulls out and holds himself upright long enough for Anakin to turn himself over, and then he collapses onto his former padawan's chest, capturing his lips with his own as Anakin's arms wind around his waist. They eventually part lips and just lay there, basking in the afterglow of sex and regaining their breath.

'Obi-Wan?' Anakin murmurs against his cheek.

'Hmm?'

'If that's how you're gonna react, I've decided I'm kicking off more often.'