Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars


It was a boggling sensation, wanting to strangle someone who was possibly on the brinks of life and death.

Obi-Wan reflected that this was probably not the healthiest of emotions, but it seemed to be the only urge at the core of his consciousness at the moment, so he acknowledged it and sent it out into the Force…where it-of course-came bouncing right back again. He didn't feel any urge to weep or turn to despair, which was probably what a normal person would feel…so he'd instead turned to a sort of accepting furiousness. Yoda-strangely-had not reprimanded him for his anger, and instead was acting unusually understanding and sympathetic. It was a ludicrous notion, but Obi-Wan liked to think he was feeling rather the same. He couldn't think of anyone in the history of the Order that had caused as much confusion and grief as Anakin Skywalker. He'd managed to destroy the entire order, renounce his vows, repent, retrain, and fall right back down to the bottom in the space of less than three months. For him, it was probably commonplace to experience emotional yo-yoing, but Obi-Wan was not enjoying the experience. The mere notion that someone could make him feel so volatile with so many years of discipline under his belt was exhausting. Qui-Gon had once told him that he was a natural at suppressing his emotions. At the time, he'd taken it as a compliment…now, he wasn't so sure if his former Master had meant it that way.

The effects of frosjafeuel were devastating.

Bacta could really only take things so far, and it was a miracle Anakin hadn't needed any organ transplants. Thanks to Yoda's unerring intuition, they'd caught most of it before it burned holes through his intestines, but he'd needed a blood transfusion and the entirety of his stomach lining was a veritable train wreck. Twice a day, he got an infusion of the strongest antibiotics to repair the damage to his digestive tract and he'd only recently stopped throwing up blood. Four days into it, a cyst that had developed in his esophagus burst and went unnoticed for several hours, resulting in a raging infection that brought his temperature up horrendously. The task of keeping his blood from boiling had fallen to Obi-Wan, who liberally applied cold compresses and freezesheets while thinking up every curse in Hutteese he'd managed to pick up. He'd seen Anakin bounce back from a number of grievous wounds, often incurred due to carelessness or recklessness, but this was the worst. Worse, he couldn't contact his consciousness through the Force; though he couldn't tell if it was because Anakin had simply shut down or because he had irreversible brain damage. When the subject of aphasia was first brought up, he'd thrown his communicator at the medical droid and stormed out of the room.

Some might be inclined to say that infants are unaware of the events that go on around them, but Obi-Wan was prone to disagree. Leia was positively monstrous, screaming at all hours of the night until he'd come up with the idea of wrapping her in Anakin's cloak. She'd sniffed it for a few minutes before whimpering pathetically and falling into an uneasy slumber. Luke was similarly discontent, but unlike his explosive sibling, he lay in his crib and stared at the ceiling, primping inconsolably until Obi-Wan, out of sheer pity and sadness, took him to his father's room and rocked him next to the bed for a few hours. This was repeated every single night, until Obi-Wan wanted to shake Anakin out of his coma with the sheer force of his fury for being so selfish and inconsiderate. He couldn't even begin to fathom what had possessed the young man to attempt to take his life after seeing all that it had to offer. He had children, a family…something most Jedi could only dream of, and he refused to think that the mere thought of his possible upcoming trial was enough to drive him to suicide. Anakin would never do something so thoughtless out of mere self-preservation, it went against everything Obi-Wan knew about his personality.

It was a week and a half later, near midnight, when he was finally privileged with the reason that so much grief had come to pass. Their rooms in the palace were mostly identical, sporting a large bed, a sparse but elegant wardrobe and a 'fresher. Obi-Wan was sitting in a hover chair next to Anakin's sleeping form with his head in his hands when a pained moan jerked him out of his semi-conscious state. Practically vaulting out of his seat, he leaned over the bed to see his former padawan staring at the ceiling, a confused look on his face. He was pale, though his color had vastly improved in the last few days, which had given them some reason to hope for his recovery. Some of the healers had managed to strip him of his hot and heavy robes, and he'd spent most of his time in a soft pair of sleeping trousers and nothing else. Slowly, blue eyes moved to focus on Obi-Wan, and when they did he visibly flinched, as if in pain.

"You're awake then" Obi-Wan commented, his tone frostier than he'd intended it to be. When no response was forthcoming, he continued. "You're a monstrous berk."

To his alarm, Anakin's eyes flickered from blue, to the somewhat-familiar Sith-orange, then back again. Long fingers curled in the sheets as he drew a deep breath. He then proceeded to turn positively green. His organic hand rose to cover his mouth and his stomach heaved as he tried to prevent the inevitable. The sheer force of his retching forced him to sit up and lean over the edge of the bed.

"Gonna be sick" he groaned.

Hastening to rectify the situation before it got messy, Obi-Wan grabbed the first thing he could find-which happened to be a decorative helmet-and wrenched his former apprentice's hair back as he proceeded to be violently ill into what he hoped wasn't a priceless family heirloom. Anakin's shoulders shook as he attempted to regain control of himself several times, only to proceed to expel a wealth of fluid once more. It was getting to the point where Obi-Wan was seriously contemplating calling a healer, when his symptoms began to slow and then finally stop. Setting the now thoroughly ruined helmet to the side, he helped the young man settle back into the pillows, where he proceeded to take several deep, gulping breaths, sweat beading across his forehead. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan went into the 'fresher and filled a glass of water, which he then proceeded to help Anakin drink; propping his head up with one hand while monitoring sips with the other. Placing the glass on the nightstand beside the bed, he sat back and looked at his former apprentice with a feeling that was one part anger and the other pity.

"I don't suppose you can muster up any sort of explanation" he commented.

He startled, but didn't pull away as Anakin's hand briefly touched his own before sliding back onto the covers.

"Can't….get attached" he wheezed. "Luke…Leia…." he shuddered and threw a glance at him. "You…can't. I'll kill you…killed her….s' what I do….better off…d-de-" he shuddered and Obi-Wan hastened to grab the helmet again, steadying him more gently this time as he was sick once more. Falling back into the pillows, his lashes fluttered as struggled to remain conscious. "…Don't love me…can't…p-please…."

"Oh Anakin" Obi-Wan murmured, stroking a lock of damp hair away from his forehead. "Your children won't be better off if you're gone…not this way. It's human to love your children." The presence of tears utterly shattered every ounce of resolve within him. The Bond that had for so long been kept silent was suddenly flooded with the younger man's emotions, and his heart stuttered in its chest as he comprehended the degree of pain coming from his former trainee. Anakin's lip trembled, a tear ran down his cheek and Obi-Wan was doomed. Lifting the covers, he gently slid into the bed next to his former padawan, and didn't protest as a long arm draped across his waist, the other finding the center of his chest. Threading his fingers through damp locks, he tucked his chin over Anakin's head and closed his eyes. "I love you."

"S-sorry" was the muttered response. "U-uma ji m-muna…"

"Enough Anakin…enough."

If anyone of particular notice saw them as they were that night, nobody mentioned it. By morning, the helmet had been cleared away, and someone had brought a bowl of broth for Anakin; Obi-Wan woke to the smell to see it steaming on the bedside table. Anakin stirred, and his consciousness in the bond reached out to beckon him back into its restful state. For once, he didn't resist him, preferring to sink into the nothingness that was contentment….and put his worries aside for another time.


Ultimately, it wasn't his fear of attachments that had driven Anakin to such extremes, it was his knowledge of what attachment to him had done to others. When considering his rampant, but ultimately concise form of logic, Obi-Wan grudgingly admitted he could see where this had drove him to utter desperation. Anakin often operated under the impression that you 'couldn't fix what was already broken.' To him, attachment was a way to failure and death, and he'd seen it applied in the most horrific situations possible. Through repetitious bonding with their Soul Signatures and the constant therapeutic time they'd spent together, they'd both formed a sort of unconscious attraction that neither of them had recognized or detected. Obi-Wan's fatal mistake of pointing out that Anakin had kissed him had thrown the reality of how far they had fallen without noticing to the forefront, and Anakin had panicked. Already, he was becoming attached to Luke and Leia, something he knew was expressly forbidden. There were living, breathing, sentient counterparts of his dead wife lying about, and he'd unwittingly allowed himself to fall into a state of security whose emotional base was centered in that of love and affection.

His act of thoughtless affection towards Obi-Wan had been the tipping point, and he'd plummeted.

Anakin's healing accelerated over the next few weeks, aided by his return to consciousness and his ability to meditate and use the Force to expedite the process. Unfortunately, his rash decision ruined their plans to intercept Darth Sidious on Coruscant. Bail returned three days after the young man had woken up, and he was still working on determining another date when they could strike. Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to berate Anakin for disrupting their intended plans, and it seemed Yoda was of the same mind. The Grand Master spent a great amount of time in his rooms, taking his place as mentor and healer, and Obi-Wan was glad for it. It left him in the position of caretaker and friend, and he often brought Luke and Leia to see him during the day. Both children, though incapable of expressing their relief in words, calmed considerably with their father's return to the world. Leia's tantrums slowly petered off until they were to their normal, everyday scale, and Luke was his usual quiet and content self.

It became an unspoken tradition for Obi-Wan to crawl into Anakin's bed near midnight and curl himself around his sleeping form in a gesture of comfort. Truthfully, they hadn't gotten any closer to discussing their feelings, but he couldn't bring himself to stay away and Anakin had given no indication of discomfort or protest. Instead, he would stretch languidly upon his entry into the sheets and slide his fingers into the confines of Obi-Wan's tunic, his breath tickling the hollow at the crook of his neck as he fell back into a restful slumber without comment. Sometimes, he would leave in the early hours of morning…other times they slept well into the day, reluctant to leave what was fast becoming a method of relaxation and reassurance. There were times when Obi-Wan's conscience would slip in to haunt him. The logical part of his mind whispered that Anakin was damaged and hurting, and that no good would come from catering to their need to be close to each other. Any more, and he'd be jeopardizing their goals for the future, unable to enter into combat without wondering if the other was hurting or wounded.

"Meecooda joggdu stafa do tah poda."

Obi-Wan jerked groggily into wakefulness as Anakin's habitual sleep-muttering stirred him from slumber. Sun was spilling into the room through the high windows, and he squinted uncomfortably as he took inventory of the time. By his judging, it was a little past sunrise, well beyond the time when he tried to sneak out of the room and down to the garden for a brief meditation session before breakfast. Anakin was lying on his back, one arm above his head and the other seemingly trapped under Obi-Wan's body, which was positioned facing him on his side. His head was pillowed on the younger man's shoulder, and he shifted experimentally, wincing as his muscles protested against lying in such an unusual position for so long. Propping himself up on one elbow, Obi-Wan studied the sleeping individual before him. Anakin's features were relaxed in sleep like they never were during his hours of consciousness. Bronze lashes dusted across firm cheekbones, fluttering softly in the nuances of unconsciousness. His mouth was slightly open, his lips colored with only the softest flush of cerise…subtle and natural. Tanned skin followed the slope of his neck to his clavicle, elegant but at the same time undeniably masculine. The sheets enveloping his body from the chest down left little to imagination, contouring to a not-overly muscular but powerful physique; supple and strong like the surge of the tide. He was undeniably attractive, anyone with eyes could see that. Obi-Wan couldn't count how many times he'd seen him shake off the advances of various individuals, human and alien alike during their adventures. Swallowing-trying to shake the sudden and confusing ache that had suffused his skin-Obi-Wan reluctantly returned his gaze to the face he knew so well. Eyes as blue as the seas around Otoh Gunga stared back, hazy in their ascent from sleep but knowing all the same.

He would never know who initiated the kiss.

Long afterwards, such information continued to escape him. All Obi-Wan knew was that Anakin's lips were soft, smooth and somewhat yielding against his. Leaning slightly over his former padawan, he shivered at the myriad of emotions that hummed through the Bond. There was a soft affection, errant and endless like the depths of space…stretching on in veins of thrumming color. It was accompanied by a desire that was strong but not overwhelming, tempered to fit their needs and accepting of limitations. Stronger and surer than any other feeling were the sensations of affection and love, enough of it to leave him reeling in its wake. Anakin's taste was soft in its signature; warm and intrinsic and uniquely his own. Their noses brushed idly, bumping against each other as the silence around them seemed to unfold like a starbloom blossoming, effervescent and expressive. As Obi-Wan's fingers lifted to card through the wealth of his hair, a hand rose to cup his cheek; thumb stroking down the contour of his jaw in a tender and familiar gesture. The kiss in of itself was innocent; with the brief exchange of lips and the occasional desirous hitch of breath. A slow, throbbing sensation began to pervade his limbs; something not unlike pins and needles gathering in an area he didn't normally consider.

When Anakin's tongue gently traced the seam of his lips, requesting entry, the warmth exploded into an all-encompassing heat that had him pulling lightly on the strands of hair wrapped about his fingers. A heady groan was the response to his actions and he gasped at the sound, feeling the reverberations of it in his now-open mouth as the kiss deepened and became more intimate. Anakin's fingers scratched gently against his beard, as he angled their mouths, twisting his head slightly as their actions became less tentative and more primal; teetering on the edge of careful control and utter abandon. Warmth and moisture…the slide of their tongues against each other…the rise and fall of their breath intermingling and the occasional, uncontrollable shudder of pleasure that rose between them; traveling from one to the other like the snap of an electric current. Anakin's mouth caught his bottom lip, sucking languorously 'till he couldn't help the small, wanton expression of lust that left him in the form of a moan. Encouraged, the younger man nipped lightly at his tongue and sparks burgeoned across every point of contact; sizzling in out of existence like so many embers in the light of a roaring fire.

A part of Obi-Wan whispered that he was inexperienced, that he knew nothing of the pleasures of the flesh. Anakin's actions were skillful and cutting, while his were slightly clumsy and more uncertain. In a different situation, he might have felt embarrassed by his ignorance, but it seemed that Anakin embraced his inexperience; taking his tentativeness and loving him all the more thoroughly due to it. Whispers through their shared Bond spoke of his joy that Obi-Wan would choose him to share such a profoundly new encounter singularly with him, his affection so overwhelming it was utterly impossible to dismiss. And as those skillful lips left his to tilt his head up and gently lave the flesh under his neck, he shivered at the reverent adulation in Anakin's touch; at his acknowledgement of his precarious amateurism.

After a time, and seemingly out of mutual agreement, they drew apart and Anakin rolled onto his side and made a study of Obi-Wan's face. Still shivering, the Jedi Master let his head loll against the pillows, lifting a hand to trace his lips, feeling the remnants of the thrumming pressure of another mouth and tongue against them…permeating them. A thousand things he could say came to mind. What are we doing? Why are we doing this? We shouldn't do this were but a few of them. Instead, his mind trailed to the blatantly obvious, and when he opened his mouth speak, it was what came out.

"That was my first kiss."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, his truly sardonic half-smirk forming on lips Obi-Wan was sure he'd never look at the same way again.

"You're a natural then."

Obi-Wan huffed exasperatedly, which evidently was an urgent cue for Anakin to kiss him again, and it was only fifteen minutes later that he got another chance to speak.

"What are we doing, Anakin?"

The aforementioned individual laced their hands together, kissing Obi-Wan's knuckles in a way that left him utterly and disgustingly soppy.

"Loving each other" was the eventual response.

"How did this happen?"

This seemed to grasp his attention more than the last comment, and his younger companion managed to look irritable rather than fuzzily distracted.

"I want you" he said bluntly. "I want to be with you.'

"I…need time Anakin" Obi-Wan murmured.

"…You don't want me?"

This gave him pause, and he lifted a hand to cup Anakin's cheek, blue eyes fluttered slightly at the caress and he smiled gently.

"Of course I do, I'm just…new to all this. You have to be patient with me." He let his hand drop and sighed as an arm snaked around his waist to pull them closer together. "We're doing this at the absolute worst time, you realize. There's a Sith that needs to be destroyed, an Empire to be toppled, and we're lying in bed making out like a bunch of teenagers."

"I've never been one for timing" was the calm retort.

"Yes, I know" Obi-Wan said dryly. "I just…broke my Vows after thirty eight years of trying to keep them. I'm trying to wrap my head around the fact that I don't regret it at all." Anakin chuckled and he rolled his eyes. "I don't know how we're going to do this, how will we go into a battle with the Sith without worrying about whether the other is going to be killed?"

Anakin was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the edge of Obi-Wan's beard.

"I love you" he said quietly. "But…I know you can take care of yourself. Padme was so…delicate, you're not. You're one of the strongest people I know. I'm not afraid for you."

"That could change" the older man murmured.

"It could" his former padawan agreed. "But for now, it does not, and I'll let you know if I start to feel possessive."

"Oh, I can assure you I'm thoroughly yours" Obi-Wan said dryly. "But my services still belong to the Republic…I'm still a Jedi."

At this, Anakin lost all pretense of control and kissed him 'till he was fairly reeling.

"Master" he murmured against his lips. "I wouldn't love you if you were anything else."


Random Clarifications
Uma ji muna-I love you
Meecooda joggdu stafa do tah poda-I could run faster than your pod

A/N: So, I actually have been corrected on the definition of angst. Originally, I thought angst was an excess of argument between chars (i.e. multiple people fighting over a single love interest, cheating, arguing etc) angst relates to internal emotional struggle, which Anakin has a LOT of. So I have added angst to the list of tags related to this fic. I hope the kiss didn't come too soon for you all, but I felt like it was time. Thanks for reading!

P.S.: This is for you readers on ; I've seen your reviews, and I appreciate every one of them. On AO3, I have option of replying to every single review directly, and here I don't. I'm often pressed for time, so formatting reviews for individual PM takes up quite a lot of time I desperately need for other parts of my day. I just felt the need to let you know that I appreciate your reviews, and I'm so glad you are enjoying the story. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.