Darth Vader instantly realizes two things at once:

First, that joy beyond all description exists in the world.

And second, that he might have spent the past twenty years quite differently if he had known about it.

Kenobi's heart is a placid, beautiful, warm-water tarn, surrounded by impassable frozen forests through which he and he alone, for the first time ever, has been allowed to enter. The knotted, silver trees part for him, the high, pale grasses sway about his knees, and he steps out into a mellow, flowering glade. As he looks to the sky, a shaft of halcyon starlight strikes him and he weeps with the knowledge that this is the Jedi's soul touching him, offering him the kind of deep companionship he has only ever dreamed about, and then only in his previous life.

What Vader finds in this communion devastates him: Kenobi is not, he realizes, the cruel zealot, the self-righteous martyr with which Sidious filled his memories. He is not perversely eager to destroy himself. He is not deluded about the harshness of the galaxy or the impotence of the Order. He does not hold to his faith, after all he has suffered, because he is naïve, or callous, or weak. He has survived, he has persisted, he has remained a Jedi all this time, because he is simply good. Good to the core.

Back in the physical plane, Vader opens his eyes to find himself pressed against Kenobi's firm torso, his arms wrapped around Kenobi's elegant waist, nose buried in his neatly-parted cinnamon hair. He doesn't remember removing his tunic, or seeing Kenobi doff his robes, yet somehow both of them have ended up bare-chested. He doesn't have much time to dwell on it as they yield to the irresistible magnetism of each others' naked flesh. He can hear them both moaning helplessly in these clear, melodic, youthful voices that can't possibly belong to them, hungrily caressing sculpted backs and shoulders that can't possibly belong to them, entwining long, muscular, graceful legs that can't possibly belong to them...

"Oh- Oh-Bi Wan-" he gasps, feeling as though he ought to say something, but finding himself at quite the loss for words.

"It's alright, it's alright," Kenobi chants, frantically petting his hair. "I've got you. At last- at last, I've got you-" He kisses the crown of Vader's head, almost delirious with relief and happiness. "And for good this time- Won't make the same mistakes-" he vows fervently. "Won't lose you again-" Since abruptly dropping the mental shields he had kept up for decades, he seems unable to contain himself, almost unable to function normally without them.

"My master-" Vader keens, similarly carried away. He melts against Kenobi's body, eagerly drinking in the possessive emotions that radiate from it as they buffet him in luscious, glowing waves. You are wanted, you are loved, they sing, a tune he never thought he'd hear again.

They roll together among the brushed synth-linen sheets, giggling like children, stroking their noses against each other, reveling in the sheer luxury of these sparkling nerves, these silky skins. Vader is shuddering all over, his mind a white-hot blank, like the inside of a star. The only thing more unbearable than this overwhelming, brain-melting pleasure continuing for even another moment is the prospect of it ever ending.

Kenobi flips him over and pins him, gazing rapturously down at him, his breathing short, his color high. But there is something amiss. For even when he is like this, flushed and elated, that pensive sadness never leaves his keen, gray eyes. "Now do you believe that this is what I truly want?" he asks. "I wish I were better able to express it-" He lowers his head slightly with a kind of tender, secretive shame. "I do realize that, as a Jedi, I may be... deficient in some ways, for these purposes. Stunted, even. Isn't that what you would have called it?"

"I never called you that," Vader frowns.

"But you would have," Kenobi insists, "if you'd been in a position to speak your mind on the matter. In any case," he sighs, "I suspect the damage- if indeed it is damage- is quite irreversible at this point. My emotions are simply not calibrated the same way as... well, as a civilian who didn't grow up in the Temple. But what I feel for you-" he hesitates, pulse hammering at his throat, "I believe it to be love."

Vader bucks against his hold, a flash of anger shaking him. "What in the nine hells is that supposed to mean?" he snaps. "What- What sort of way is that to tell someone you love them?"

"I only meant-"

"Of course," he scoffs, tears pricking at his eyes again, "it can't help but be an improvement over the last time- the only other time- you ever told me that you loved me." His mouth is a hard line of misery and ire. "Need I remind you, it was as you left me to burn-?!"

Kenobi pulls away and sits up on the mattress, his countenance crushed, his Force-presence roiling with guilt. "I- I'm sorry," he stammers. "I only meant that- What I feel for you is- It's certainly the strongest attachment I've ever known. But I've- little with which to compare it, you see," he smiles sadly. "I cannot know whether this is how ordinary people experience love. I fear that my heart might be crippled in some way- That my meager affections will always be a poor imitation of the real thing- That I may never be able to offer you... what she gave you."

"What?" Vader breathes, propping himself up on his elbows. "But I- I feel your love for me now. It fills our bond. It is so strong, so pure."

"Then," Kenobi's gaze lifts, glittering with tempered hope, "it is enough for you? What I have held within me all these years- It really is... what people call love?"

"Of course it is... How could you feel it and not know?"

"I- I have kept it hidden. From even myself," he says, looking down at his own lovely hands in sad wonder. "You must understand, I believed it was necessary," he pleads. "But now I suspect that, to the extent that I was ever a good Jedi, it was not... abstaining from this that made me so." He takes a fortifying breath before continuing: "You say you want what I have to offer. You say it is enough- Yet you are still upset."

"I know now for certain that you feel it," says Vader emphatically, leaning forward so that they are seated on the mattress eye-to-eye. "I am upset because you still won't say it!"

"Oh. Oh-" Kenobi blinks. Inclining his head, he seems momentarily to steel himself before launching himself at Vader, pinning his body completely and seizing his mouth in a deep, melting kiss. "I love you," he gasps, coming up at last for air. "I love you as I have never loved any other." He looms over Vader like a mother wampa over her cub, his heart glowing with protective devotion.

"Much better," Vader pronounces, shaking with Anakin's bright laughter, wearing Anakin's impish grin.

"Well?"

"Hmm...?" He rolls his head lazily, eyelashes fluttering.

"Manners, Padawan."

"Oh yes, of course. Forgive me, Master." He kisses playfully at Kenobi's beard. "I love you, too." Withdrawing his lips, he gives the Jedi a searching look. "Are you going to stay the night here?"

"If you'll have me," Kenobi smiles.

"I want to have you always. I don't want you to leave."

"But you know that I must," he intones, suddenly grave. "I must return to the world. I have my duties, even as a ghost. And you, Anakin," he frowns. "Promise me you won't try to escape. You must realize that no good can come of it."

"Do you intend to keep me here forever?" Vader asks, studying a spot on the mattress with transparently false nonchalance.

"Forever is an awfully long time, my dear."

"Then you will eventually release me?"

"It rather depends on a number of things."

"I think I should like to accompany you," he grins, "as you go about performing your 'duties'. I'd promise not to interfere."

Kenobi raises an eyebrow. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He lays his hands on Vader's shoulders until the former-Sith meets his eye. "Just stay here, for the time being. I will visit you as often as I can. I will bring you whatever you need." His breath is close, his voice tender and beguiling. His fingers move in short, tantalizing strokes before sweeping down over Vader's chest. "Your only responsibility will be to relax... and enjoy."

"Put- put your belly on mine," Vader urges, his face hot with desire.

"You like that, too?" Kenobi asks, reddening. "It's- awfully nice, isn't it?" He lowers himself again so that their torsos are flush together, warming each others' petal-soft skin with minute, involuntary rubbing motions.

Relaxing under the pleasant weight of Kenobi's body, Vader reaches for the silver thermal blanket bunched at their feet and pulls it over both of them, cocooning them together for maximum closeness. Buried beneath the covers, they ply each other with slow, worshipful caresses. Truly, they are luminous beings inside these animal bodies. As oxytocin rushes through their bloodstreams, midichlorians convert it into pure psychic energy, feeding their bond until it hums with light.

"Gods, look at us!" Vader exclaims breathlessly. "We- we are so smooth. Why didn't we ever do this before?" He nuzzles their faces together, mindlessly soaking up the sensation. "In fact, why did we ever do anything else?"

"You know very well why."

He closes his eyes, resting his head in the juncture of Kenobi's neck and shoulder. Kenobi- No, his heart supplies, Obi Wan, Master- drags an adoring hand through his tangled hair. As the computer begins to dim the lights above them for nighttime, their breathing begins to slow for sleep.

"Master?" Vader whispers after several silent minutes. "What if this isn't a vision?"

"I am quite sure it isn't."

"But what came before- all those years-"

"Yes?"

"What if... this is reality, and all that was a vision?"

Vader can feel the hinge of Kenobi's jaw move as he opens his mouth as if to say something, and then quietly closes it again.