Notes: This was written for 2005's JediSanta fic exchange on LiveJournal. It involves hawt Jedi mansex and dubious consent. If that's not your thing, turn back now!

Business As Usual

The battle had gone surprisingly well. No unexpected attacks, no half-formed plans, no massive casualties. Complete follow-through. The Separatist base had fallen, and now the 103rd ARC Air and Land Unit, under the command of Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, was celebrating.

From his own tent (It's more of a yurt," Anakin had said thoughtfully when they were constructing the small tent city/base), Obi-Wan could hear the raucous strains of one of the Huttese drinking songs Anakin had taught the unit. Although Obi-Wan did not speak the language fluently, he had spent enough time with Anakin and his bi-lingual outbursts to know that the song was impressively obscene.

Obi-Wan had bowed out of the celebration early; he had strategy plans to go over for the days to come, but had decided to let Anakin blow off some steam with the clones. After all, it had really been Anakin's victory, and the most the younger Jedi ever had to offer to formal battle planning was, "That's going to be overkill, Master."

Right as Anakin was about that at times, Obi-Wan still had to submit reports to the Council, and he doubted Mace Windu would appreciate receiving something reading simply The strategy is to destroy droids and not die. Because, when it came right down to it, that was their strategy. Oh, sure, their clone commandoes had their fancy combat maneuvers, but most of what Obi-Wan and Anakin themselves did was decided on the field itself, in the blink of an eye, one carrying out the actions of the other before intent to act was even formed.

Anakin's Force-presence interrupted Obi-Wan's concentration, eliciting a sigh from the older Jedi. He hadn't expected Anakin back quite so soon, and his report was not even half finished. And he didn't think he could count on Anakin in post-battle mode to sit still and let him work, either.

Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad and watched Anakin stride purposefully across the small space, his cloak caping out behind him. "Bored already?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin walked up to Obi-Wan and laid his black-gloved right hand on his former master's shoulder. Obi-Wan felt a rush as Anakin's Force-signature mingled with his own, and then Anakin was straddling his lap, his left hand tangling in Obi-Wan's hair, his mouth pressed against Obi-Wan's violently.

Obi-Wan could taste the liquor Anakin had been drinking, and blood. He opened his mouth slightly, allowing Anakin's tongue entrance. He closed his eyes – moments like these were becoming rarer as the war dragged on, as Anakin continued to drift away from him, emotionally. He would savor this, even as Anakin's embrace became tighter, his impassioned kisses more insistent, more demanding.

All thoughts of the report flew out of Obi-Wan's head when Anakin growled into his mouth and began to run his hands down the front of Obi-Wan's tunic. "Off. Now." There was no question that Anakin was still in that dangerous place that lay between peace and battle, that gray area where he reacted as though fighting, no matter what the circumstances. These periods had been growing longer and longer, but Obi-Wan was certainly not going to argue with such an order.

"You're making it a bit difficult to…" he said lightly, and Anakin stood, swinging one long leg over the other so he spun around as he rose. "Anakin…" It hadn't been his intention to completely remove his former apprentice from his lap, but it was a tad difficult to disrobe when being held so tightly he had been a bit worried about his air supply.

Anakin turned and before Obi-Wan could say anything more, his hands were buried in Obi-Wan's tunic, and Obi-Wan found himself being pulled to his feet and shoved against one of the tent's support beams. Anakin all but tore Obi-Wan's tunic from him, and Obi-Wan stifled a groan as Anakin pressed his body close, kissing him again with all the passion of a warrior.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan arched against Anakin's body, wondering what, exactly, had gotten into his friend. Not that it mattered – Obi-Wan had missed being in such close contact with Anakin, but the desperation in Anakin's actions gave him pause. Not enough to stop what was happening, though. Not enough to resist when Anakin turned him around and pressed him face-first against the support beam.

Only anticipation of what was to come kept Obi-Wan from automatically reprimanding Anakin when he felt a Force-hand pull down his leggings. Such an inappropriate use of his powers, yet in this instance, Obi-Wan really was in no mood to complain. Besides, the way Anakin was growling, the older Jedi realized that the best way to keep his head attached to his body was to keep his mouth shut.

Anakin entered him with no preparation, and the pain was exquisite. Obi-Wan grunted and clenched his teeth, feeling as though Anakin was penetrating his very soul. Anakin's arms wrapped around his chest and Obi-Wan grasped the support beam to brace himself against the other man's violent thrusts.

For a long moment there was no sound, no breath, nothing but themselves twining together and becoming one. The universe dropped away and it was Obi-Wan and Anakin and the Force, combining into one entity.

But then pain sang along Obi-Wan's synapses, so deep and burning that he nearly mistook it for pleasure, and the moment was gone. It was still him, and Anakin, and the Force, but Anakin was rough and the Force provided no cushion.

"Ana…kin," he gasped out. He was close now, despite the pain. This was not a blaster bolt or a saber burn – this was Anakin, claiming him and walking that line he always did between violence and love.

Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder as he came and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like I'm sorry. Always sorry, it seemed, but not willing to change or let up. Obi-Wan arched into him as Anakin reached out with the Force to provide that one needed push to the edge, and the intensity of the release made Obi-Wan shiver.

He rested his forehead against the beam and winced as Anakin pulled out. He could sense Anakin's embarrassment, as he always did after these encounters. Although Obi-Wan never offered resistance, never wanted Anakin to think he didn't want this, Anakin was still ashamed. Any attempt to discuss it was rebuked, and Obi-Wan had eventually given up.

He knew, anyway.

He always knew.

This night saw Anakin sprawling out on his bedroll, obscenely casual, his cloak draped over his naked form. Obi-Wan struggled not to let the pain show on his face as he sat back at his desk. This was how it always went – they would pretend it didn't happen… until the next time.

The ache in his back snaked up into his heart as Obi-Wan reopened his report, and he heard Anakin scoff behind him. "That's going to be overkill, Master."

Obi-Wan bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Business as usual.