Disclaimer: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker belong to GL. I'm just having fun with them and I put them back when I'm done. Honestly.Both songs referenced in this fic (Kiss and Sexy M.F.) belong to Prince, or whoever he is right now, or whoever owns his music.

Author's Notes: Ok, I just had to take a break from all the angst of Do What You Have to Do. Have no fear, I am in the process of writing the next chapter--it is just hard some days. Stay with me!

This little silly fic came to me in a flash today, although I've had the basic concept in mind for a while. I hope you enjoy it--it is the first time I've tried writing humour, and it ended up being a bit more difficult than I had imagined. Let me know if it makes you giggle, even if just little. Thanks!

In its own way, this story is my way of paying tribute to my awesome beta, XtinethePirate, and her recently completed (YAY!) story, The Movie Fic. If you haven't read it yet, I HIGHLY recommend it--it is SO funny and lovey and sexy-- and it will make the ending of this story all the more entertaining. I make references to TMF with her full permission, of course!

Enough! Enjoy!

Sexy M. F.

For Sith's Sake, could that have taken ANY longer? Anakin wasn't sure if he or his stomach grumbled more. He'd overslept and had to choose between breakfast or another mind-numbing lecture from Master Windu on how he'd never be a Master if he couldn't manage to master setting his alarm clock. The clock wasn't the problem—his especially ardent late night rendezvous with Obi-Wan had left Anakin…depleted of all his reserves. Not that he minded terribly. So what if he missed breakfast? Sex now, food later. Always a good policy.

Too bad he'd had to skulk away this morning for a new teachers seminar—being asked to instruct some of the mid-level younglings in sabre techniques was a long-sought honour for him. Truth be told, Anakin loved the ego boost he got from the younglings— they obviously thought he was some kind of Lord of the Lightsabre. He smiled smugly to himself—Obi-Wan had certainly seemed to think so last night.

Having never outgrown his penchant for any and all electronic gadgets, Anakin pulled out his portable music player and adjusted the earpods as he scrolled down the list of songs. Yes. Just what he was in the mood for. He couldn't help but swagger a bit as he sang aloud, recalling each and every delicious detail from last evening as he made his way through the hallowed halls of the Temple. "You don't have to be beautiful, to turn me on, I just need your body, baby, from dusk till dawn…" He laughed when he saw the dirty look and shake of that big bald head of Master Windu before rounding the corner.

He sought out his Master through their bond and could sense Obi-Wan was awake and in a good mood. Probably doing something responsible, like meditating, cleaning, or Force-forbid it, reading. Anakin groaned inwardly. The man has got to learn to relax!

"I just want your extra time and your…,"his full red lips smacked the air, "KISS!"

------------

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, stretching his arms over his head as he yawned, utterly content to spend the morning lounging in bed until Anakin returned. A big grin spread across his face as he recalled the events of last evening. Anakin was nearly insatiable and last night had been no different. Of course, it would never do to let Anakin see him lazing about. Anakin was sure to think his Master was being all proper, doing something Masterly like meditating or reading—the two most grievous offenses in Anakin's mind when you could otherwise sleep, eat, or have sex. Obi-Wan got a kind of Sithly thrill out of perpetuating this myth to Anakin—no need to let him know otherwise just yet. Well, he had slept, and obviously sex was currently out of the question, so…eating would just have to do, for now.

He groaned a bit as he sat up and looked around the room for wherever Anakin had thrown his Master's black sleep pants last night, in his haste to remove what he perceived to be an excess of clothing on Obi-Wan's part. Without bothering to find a shirt, Obi-Wan padded out to the kitchen, only to find it a bit chilly. With a shiver, and cursing the fact that Anakin was not there to warm him up, he grabbed the nearest bit of warmth, which just happened to be Anakin's blue robe. It was the color of Anakin's eyes, but more importantly, it was bathed with Anakin's delicious scent. Obi-Wan wrapped it around himself tightly, breathing deeply and ignoring the irritating fact that the robe dragged—literally dragged—across the floor. Curse his damn height! He could hardly remember a time when he didn't have to look up at Anakin. Well, there was last night…he recalled with a shameless smirk on his lips.

Knowing that Anakin was at a meeting, with Mace Windu, no less, and knowing that Anakin had overslept and had not had breakfast, and knowing how Anakin tended to get without food, he decided to make Anakin's favorite breakfast—pancakes with chocolate. Besides, he thought wickedly, it is really in my best interest to keep him well fed!

Calling on the Force in a decidedly casual way, one that he would certainly reprimand Anakin for, Obi-Wan turned on the audio control unit for their quarters, only to have his sensitive ears nearly explode from the cacophony of noise that emanated from the unit. "What utter garbage he listens to!" he fumed, as he flicked his hand out to lower the volume.

He meant to change the song, but found he was oddly attracted to the beat. As he started pulling out the ingredients and the pan, he sang along "You got to not talk dirty, baby, if you wanna impress me…" As soon as the words left his lips, he froze in horror. "'You got to not talk dirty'? Where in the Force did this man learn to speak? A Hutt speaks better than that, for Sith's sake!" He rolled his eyes at the banality of the song. "And why do I even know the words? Honestly, I really need to introduce him to a good musical one of these days. They at least know how to construct a decent lyric using the proper rules of grammar."

As he mixed up the batter and melted the chocolate, a new song came on, one with a funky, bass-driven beat, something the younger Padawans seemed to have a taste for lately. He knew his partner was still a kid at heart, and his taste music was really no exception, even if it made Obi-Wan cringe. It actually made Anakin an outstanding mentor, much to the chagrin of Mace and a few other Masters, who claimed he was going to "corrupt the youth of the Temple." Obi-Wan thought it was more likely professional petty jealousy on their part. Fucking drama queens, the lot of them.

Pouring out the batter, he started to sing along again. "We need to talk about things, tell me what you do, tell me what you eat, I might cook for you…" He laughed at the appropriateness of the words in a song that was so, so… inappropriate. The Jedi Master was so into the pancakes, so into the music, that he couldn't help but dance along, strutting over to the fridge to grab some juice.

"You sexy motherfuuuuucker…." he sang at the top of his lungs, scrunching up his face like he'd seen many an inane singer do on the Holonet, tossing his head from side to side, causing some of the longer locks his hair to tumble forward into his eyes. Actually, he realized in order to sing like that, he had to make that face. He laughed again, shaking his head back in time to the music, clearing the errant strands from his eyes.

Force, he was feeling good—he was feeling the music! Who cared if it was the most offensive song he'd ever heard? No one, not even Anakin, was here to see Master Obi-Wan Kenobi getting his groove on. As he danced his way out to the table, feeling as young and as cool as any Padawan, the excessive length of the robe twisted around his ankles. "You sexy mother-- FUCK!" he yelled, as he tripped in a most ungraceful, and certainly most uncool way, almost spilling the juice all over their light carpet.

Thank the FORCE Anakin hadn't been there to see that. He would never live it down—for as graceful as Obi-Wan was as a Jedi, for some reason that ability seemed to leave him once he entered their quarters. Obi-Wan called it the Anakin Effect. It may have also had something to do with the fact that his lover had a tendency to leave his stuff strewn about their quarters, particularly on the floor. Or, as Anakin insisted, Obi-Wan could just be clumsy. No, it was definitely Anakin's fault. Since he entered Obi-Wan's life, Anakin had often left his Master feeling unbalanced. Obi-Wan loved him for that.

He bounced his way back to the kitchen to flip the pancakes, enjoying himself immensely.

"You seem perplexed I haven't taken you yet, can't you see I'm harder than a man can get…" His eyes grew wide as the words he sang met his ears. Stars' end! He laughed some more. If only Anakin could see him now. And thank the Force he cannot!

-----

Anakin strode up to their quarters, his stomach growling as he smelled the delicious aroma of pancakes wafting down the hall. Oh, I love you, Obi-Wan! he sighed, anticipating not only his favorite breakfast, but maybe a little continuation of last night's blindingly hot encounter. He palmed the door open, expecting to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, Revered Jedi Master, placidly making his famous pancakes, probably listening to some of that romantic drivel from some wretched musical.

He wasn't expecting…this. Anakin could never have even imagined this, even in his wildest fantasies about Obi-Wan.

"Sexy motherfucker, shaking that ass, shaking that ass, shaking that ass…"

Here was his Master, literally shaking his ass around the kitchen as he executed a dramatic 3-foot high flip of a pancake, spun around in a circle, and caught it effortlessly on the spatula, never missing a word of the song or a twitch of his hips. Anakin's mouth gaped open, enraptured by this side of his lover that he had never, ever seen.

"'Cause I'm usually quite the calm one, you never found me out prowling boy. I'm just having fun, but I'm happy to change my state of mind for this behind." Obi-Wan threw back his arms then, letting his robe, my robe! thought Anakin,fall to the floor. "I bet that if you threw that ass into the air it would turn into sunshine." At that exact moment, Council Member Kenobi thrust his hips back, throwing said ass into the air.

Anakin's eye grew wide as he clamped his hand down on his mouth. By the fucking stars, Obi-Wan! Anakin could hardly breathe as his chest tightened, his stomach flipped, totally aroused by Obi-Wan's… titillating… performance. No, that wasn't quite the word. It was downright lewd. Anakin licked his lips in wanton delight. Obi-Wan was never lewd.

Fuck breakfast! He had an altogether different hunger now.

"Hey, you sexy motherfucker, why don't you shake that ass right over here?" Anakin drawled, as he leaned against the doorframe and crooked a finger at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan whirled around in surprise, the pancake he was flipping landing in a wet splotch on the floor.

"Anakin, I- I-" he stuttered, his cheeks immediately flushing crimson under his gingery beard. The younger Jedi sauntered over, his eyes darkened with a look Obi-Wan knew only too well. "Anakin, I-," he tried again, but was cut off by soft, demanding lips pressing against his in a hungry kiss.

Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan as he devoured his Master's neck. His hands stole down his lover's back, grasping that ass that he'd never regard in quite the same way again, pulling Obi-Wan closer.

"You are one sexy motherfucker, Obi-Wan," he whispered into the delicate ear he was gently tasting.

Obi-Wan moaned in response. "And your taste in music is appalling," he managed to get out between gasps.

"My taste? I'm not the one putting on the show!"

"Yes, well…you could use some better influences…like a good musical."

Anakin groaned. "No, no more musicals! Have you forgotten the last time?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow suggestively, remembering. "Oh, yes. I still have pen smudges on my…"

Anakin shushed him with another searing kiss. "Yeah, yeah, why don't you let me take care of those…"

END