Part Thirty-Four
Obi-Wan stood his ground when Anakin stepped up toe-to-toe, but blocked his Padawan's arm from touching his chest. "You know what 'no attachments' means. You're not stupid. And I don't love you that way, Anakin."
"You don't know how good it can be." Anakin knew that he could love Obi-Wan the same way that he loved Padmé, the same sweet obsession that told him he could never share Obi-Wan with anyone, just like he could never share Padmé with anyone. It was the dream-purpose that told him differently. The dream-purpose said, Love nourishes, it doesn't consume either the lover or the loved one. Stay on the Light side of the bridge, Jedi. Don't you let Obi-Wan push you to the Dark. It's for his greater good.
At that statement, Obi-Wan did lose his composure. "And you do? Who were you with? And when? We are together nearly all the time, except for ... for ... the Zone of Self-Containment! That's when it happened! Was it Zan Arbor? Did she experi--- "
"Stars and galaxies, Ob--- Master! I'm talking about fucking in general!"
"Ohhhh." Obi-Wan didn't use that word at all, and Anakin did only when pushed to extremes. Which he was now. Obi-Wan changed tactics, and stepped back. He turned away from Anakin's intent gaze that made him so uncomfortable. He felt like he was the one being trained. Am I? The Force isn't done with me yet, is that it? He had failed today in convincing Strenghis to join the Republic's cause. Strenghis thought naively that neutrality was possible, that he could gather force pikes or maybe even artillery from the Seps --- Obi-Wan knew he was upset when he resorted to epithets --- to have a show of arms to discourage Republic involvement, and then turn around to threaten the Seps into leaving Trow alone. Strenghis' love for his home touched Obi-Wan, but his ignorance of the conflict's scope depressed him. To protect Trow from Strenghis' misguided leadership, Obi-Wan might have to defend his Negotiator title. Maybe Anakin could help him do it. Maybe, just maybe, Anakin was right.
"Anakin, let's talk."
Here it comes. A teachable moment. "Let's not." Anakin pinned Obi-Wan's arms to his body with a bear hug from the side. He took advantage of the moment to fumble a kiss into Obi-Wan's ear, but kissed bristly hair instead. It was gratifying and relieving when Obi-Wan snorted humorously and turned sideways into a full embrace. They looked each other in the eyes before they both closed their eyes and leaned into a kiss that deepened briefly. Anakin took the lead a second later. Almost blinded by excitement, he nearly dropped them both on Ry-Gaul's old bed, but angled their fall at the last moment onto the double. This time he had no trouble getting hard. He pushed images of the Upper-Cremba-on-Gitchy commons onto their bond and shoved them through. Through their undergarments, he could feel Obi-Wan getting hard, too.
There are those shields again, Padawan, what other secrets do you hide, mmmmm? Scents, sounds of Billaqori festivities, Qikal's glowrod coming closer, watch out Anakin, help me to help you Anakin, don't move Anakin, no I mean to say Move! Anakin murmured a "Sorry!" when he rubbed Obi-Wan's sunburned neck with his glove and Obi-Wan hissed into his mouth. They only lightly touched lips as their hands roamed downwards together to free each other's erections before drifting to the garment's dropseat and placing each a bracing hand within. As they pressed together, not moving at all in a tantalizing stasis, Anakin Force-called the last piece of candy, the one left on Ry-Gaul's pillow, unwrapped it in midair, and caught it in his teeth. He bit down slightly on his half to hold it. He rubbed it over Obi-Wan's stubbled cheek, getting it closer and closer to his mouth, when Obi-Wan snapped his head to the side and bit the confection in half.
Sweet, so sweet. Obi-Wan used the Force frivolously himself and found one end of Anakin's braid tie, looping it around to undo it from the glossy hair. He removed one-by-one the three Merit Beads, the yellow Perfect Attendance one that nearly everyone received, the blue Most Improved In Swordsmanship: Junior Division one, and the green Self-Control In Meditation one that had taken Anakin years to earn. He placed them reverentially and safely in the cup next to the complimentary juice carafe behind the glowglobe. The braid unraveled next, three silky brown strands feathering into one wavy length that Obi-Wan yearned to slide his fingers through, but both his hands were occupied now. I'm looking forward to it.
Anakin removed his hands regretfully from tender skin fore and back, having decided that they both were overclothed, and pulled apart the fastenings on the side of the thin garment. He sat up to wriggle out of it impatiently, tearing the underarm seams but not caring in the least. It was the work of a moment to unfasten Obi-Wan's, too, and as he skinned his Master out of his last bit of clothing, he flashed back to his own attack of Togorian measles when he was eleven. Anakin couldn't bear any clothing to touch the itching, furry patches and Obi-Wan had allowed him to lay about their quarters in nothing but his skin. Obi-Wan had pushed up the room temperature to nearly Tatooine-like levels, but had only disrobed to his inner set of tunics. Anakin had thought the man inhuman at that time and since, but now he was revising his opinion.
The river flowed.
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