Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing here but my own delicious fantasies!

Thanks again to all of you who've taken the time to read and leave comments! I love to hear that you are enjoying Obi-Wan and Anakin's little tortured love fest. Now you'll be rewarded for your patience! NOTE: This chapter contains slash! If it's not your thing, don't read it, and wait for Chapter 5!

opals: Glad to hear that you saw it too!

Rae Valerious: Careful! They are an addiction! Once you start, you won't be able to stop. May I recommend my favorites xtinethepirate, Alchemy Dream, crazyundeadfairy, and Monchy?

Liana-chan: You can claim some of this as your own, since you were involved in the early discussions! Enjoy! And yes, happy endings for all!

Vee017: Thanks for the lengthy review! It warms my Jedi-loving heart that it made you melt! Well, this one's going to burn! In a good way! Tee-hee!

Alchemy Dream: Poetic and ambient? Wow! Thanks! I think you might enjoy where they're going now! And the BEST thank you would be an update to Groove! Please, please?

And, I would be a total Sith if I didn't send big giant HUGS galore to xtinethepirate for being my super-awesome beta and bestest Jedi-loving Twin on this chapter! I'm glad I finally got to you! It's no My Immortal, but I'll take it! Love you tons and bunches!

And on with the Jedi lovin'...

Chapter 4: Passion


Beautiful…Padme…Kiss… Beautiful…Padme…Kiss… The words mercilessly churned through Obi-Wan's mind, over and over, as the water in the 'fresher poured down over his head, over shoulders that sagged under the weight of his despair.

He had thought the shower would help, would help drown out the cacophony of words he heard, feelings he felt. It did nothing but get him wet.

He exited the 'fresher, vigorously drying off his firm, toned body. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and reached up to wipe some of the steam off the glass. He couldn't even look himself in the eye, disgusted as he was with his own appearance, his behavior, his lack of control. Nothing special here, Kenobi, he thought, as his eyes moved down over his body. He wasn't soft, he wasn't fragile, he wasn't delicate, like….her.

Beautiful…Padme…Kiss…

This had to stop.

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and went to looking for his clothes. Exiting the 'fresher, he saw that his quarters were a wreck. He cringed, embarrassed at the memory of his Force-tantrum when he returned from the Gardens. When he was with Anakin.

Anakin…

Tears yet again threatened to spill, recalling in a flood of torment his recent encounter with Anakin. How they had meditated together, how Anakin had touched his face and looked into his eyes, and how he, Obi-Wan, had wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss those soft, full, perpetually pouty lips. Oh Sith, Anakin! I'm not supposed to love you. But I do, Force help me, I do.

He stopped by the window, idly watching the Coruscanti traffic weave its way through the skies. He thought of a recent conversation with Mace, who had asked him when he was going to take another Padawan. Obi-Wan knew the answer: never. Anakin would be his only Padawan, for to take another would mean separating even further from the man he loved with all his Life Force. If he couldn't bring himself to break their Force-bond, how would he ever be able to bond with another? He simply didn't want to.

One hand he wrapped around himself for comfort, the other he used to cover his eyes, shamed by the tears that now flowed freely. Grief for a love he would never have, could never have. Worse, Obi-Wan had seen, had heard, the love his Anakin had for Padme. He was wishing on things that would never be, on feelings Anakin would never have for his Master.

Anakin slowly walked back to the quarters he shared with Obi-Wan, the only place he could truly call his home. With his Master's hastily forgotten cloak and shoes in hand, he was lost in his hurt and confusion, not knowing what he had done, nor what he could do to fix it.

Obi-Wan, lost in his despair, didn't feel Anakin approaching. When the door opened, and Anakin walked through, both Jedi froze, caught in the awkward pause that had suddenly become their relationship.

Anakin noticed his Master, clad only in a towel, was staring out the window, perfectly still, not overtly acknowledging Anakin's arrival. He couldn't help but admire the muscles of Obi-Wan's back, tight and defined, curving up to broad shoulders, and tapering down to a slim waist, towel slung low on his hips.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan remained impassive. He could not bear to let Anakin see him this way, so emotional.

"Master?" Anakin asked again, walking over to the window. He could see Obi-Wan's face reflected in the glass. Troubled, sad. He probed with the Force, but Obi-Wan's shields blocked his every attempt.

Anakin gently, tentatively, laid a hand on his Master's shoulder, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the contact with Obi-Wan's warm, damp skin.

"Master, I-I shouldn't have said those things. I know I wouldn't be a Knight if you didn't think I was ready—I shouldn't question you." His head hung down, like the hundreds of times it had when he was a Padawan. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you again with my behavior. Please tell me what's wrong. Why did you leave like that?"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but hear the hurt in Anakin's voice. Oh, Anakin. I'm the one who's sorry. More than you know. Obi-Wan called the Force around him to calm himself, and turning around, put on the Mask of the Perfect Jedi Master. Stiff. Formal. Distant. Mace would be proud.

"Anakin. I know. I know about you and Padme. I know that you love her; that you've lied to me and the Council. Repeatedly."

"Master? H-how? How do you know?"

"Your shields—before—I am sorry. I did not mean to eavesdrop." He allowed himself a wry smile. "You never were very good about keeping them in place, you know."

Anakin was appalled that he had such a slip in his defenses, but wasn't surprised that it happened around Obi-Wan. His Master had that effect on him. But, he also knew Obi-Wan couldn't have heard it all, didn't know everything. If he was going to save his career, save his relationship with his beloved Obi-Wan, he was going to have to be honest, something he hadn't been in quite a while.

"Master, please, let me explain—"

Obi-Wan cut him off. "There really is no need, Anakin. You are no longer my Padawan," he said formally, with a tight smile. "You have to make your own choices now," he said quietly, turning back to the window. He felt very exposed, his emotions threatening to overtake him. How he wished he could run to his room and hide like a youngling, hide from his feelings and from Anakin.

Anakin couldn't stand the distant tone in Obi-Wan's voice, worse than it ever was when he'd lecture Anakin on some basic tenet he had failed to follow as a Padawan. "But that's just it, Master! Please, listen! Yes, I have made choices, many of them poor ones. But I've made the right decision this time," he said with a fervor, clenching Obi-Wan's shoulder.

Sighing, Obi-Wan asked, "And what is that, Anakin?"

Anakin hesitated, knowing that he could no longer hide, but also that he wouldn't be able to go back, either. Obi-Wan knew already knew about Padme; he might as well know the rest, know what an utter failure his former Padawan really was. "I've ended it with Padme, Master. I realized that I couldn't divide my heart like that any longer. It was slowly crippling me."

The words hung in the air between them.

Finally, Obi-Wan spoke. "Divide your heart, Anakin? Between Padme and the Jedi?" he asked, with all the formality of a Jedi Council member interrogating an errant Padawan.

"No, not the Jedi," Anakin said quietly.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay back. No longer with Padme? He chose to end it with her? What, then, did I hear in the Gardens? He opened himself to the Force, thinking back to those words Beautiful…Padme…Kiss…but this time, there were more…He is so beautiful…Anakin studying his lips…What would it feel like to kiss them…

Startled by this revelation, Obi-Wan realized Anakin was still speaking. "What? What did you just say?"

Anakin took a deep breath, terrified. This was it, the moment he had wanted, and dreaded, for years. The moment he would potentially lose Obi-Wan Kenobi forever. "Not the Jedi. A Jedi. A Jedi Master." He caught Obi-Wan's eyes in the glass, and saw the tears that were flowing down his Master's face.

Frowning, confused, Anakin used the arm he had on Obi-Wan's shoulder to turn him around. Other than finding him after Ventress' torture, Obi-Wan had never looked so vulnerable.

As tears rebelliously coursed down his cheeks, Obi-Wan found himself unable to look up at Anakin, embarrassed by his continuing lack of any restraint whatsoever.

Slowly, with purpose, Anakin's hands went to either side of his Master's face, holding it between his strong, soft hands. Gently, he used his thumbs to brush away the tears that stained Obi-Wan's cheeks and wet his beard. Anakin tilted Obi-Wan's head up so that he could look into his eyes, opening himself to the Force, searching…searching…and he smiled, utterly astounded, when he saw it.

Felt it.

Love. He loves me

With his heart pounding, and tears in his eyes, he lowered his lips down to lightly brush against Obi-Wan's, a tentative, soft, and sweet kiss that asked for permission, and forgiveness.

Anakin let his lips fall away, but rested his forehead against Obi-Wan's, still looking for answers, acceptance, from his Master. He released his hold on the older Jedi's face, letting his hands drop down Obi-Wan's bare shoulders. Both Jedi breathed deeply, momentarily frozen by the depth of passion lying beneath that one, soft kiss.

Tired of fighting it, not wanting it to end, Obi-Wan at last surrendered to his emotions, unable to hold back the tide. Reaching up into his Padawan's long, soft curls, he pulled Anakin down into a kiss, a searing, bruising, demanding kiss, reveling in the touch, feel, and taste of those pouty, pouty lips he had longed to feel pressed against his own.

Anakin, feeling Obi-Wan's ardent passion for him, was overcome with desire, like nothing he had ever felt with Padme. He kissed back, hard, easing his Master's mouth open, dancing their tongues around each other's, delighting in the faintly chocolaty taste that was Obi-Wan. He couldn't possibly get enough. He had waited far too long.

The Force seemed to whisper in their ears then, urging them into action.

Noticing not for the first time the disparity in their attire, Obi-Wan slyly remarked, voice laden with meaning, "You have me at a distinct disadvantage, Anakin." Reaching over, he tugged at Anakin's tunics, pulling them open. Pleased and surprised with Obi-Wan's bold aggression, Anakin cocked an eyebrow, then yanked the offending garments up and over his head.

As he had done secretly many times in recent days, Obi-Wan wantonly admired his former Padawan's smooth, defined chest, as he ran his hands over each muscle and down Anakin's arms, encouraged as Anakin trembled under his fingers.

Anakin's arm reached out and pulled Obi-Wan against him, hard, as bare chests rubbed together, sending sparks sizzling like electrical current throughout their bodies, their bond. Obi-Wan felt like he was on fire, as the chill he had moments ago dissipated from the friction of their two bodies.

He didn't know if his mind or his heart was racing faster. His mind was in a panic. What am I doing? What are we doing? His heart and his body, however, were screaming Force, yes! Please! Don't stop!

Anakin had taken that wicked, talented mouth of his and moved to Obi-Wan's long, lean neck, sampling the decadent flesh with a flick of his tongue, letting it trail down to Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan bit his lip and closed his eyes, reveling in the attention Anakin, his Anakin, was paying to him. The older Jedi's hands involuntarily slid down and wrapped around Anakin's waist, drawing him closer.

Anakin responded immediately. "Mmmmm…Master…"

Barely able to find a breath, Obi-Wan implored, "Please, here, now, I'm Obi-Wan, just Obi-Wan. Equals. Partners."

Without breaking contact with Obi-Wan's delicate skin, Anakin smiled and nodded. "Obi-Wan," he murmured into Obi-Wan's soft, delectable ear. "Obi-Wan," he whispered, and ran his tongue around the edge of that ear, making his Master twitch in ecstasy. "Obi-Wan," this time more forcefully, then pushed his Master up against the window, bodies pressed together overlooking Coruscant.. Hands went everywhere, relishing in the touch, really feeling each other for the first time.

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed by Anakin's fervent attentions, embarrassed that he thus far had been unable to reciprocate as ardently. He reached up and held Anakin back by his strong shoulders. "Anakin, please. Slow down. I'm-I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice here." He looked away. "I'm not sure what to do; I'm not sure what we are doing."

Anakin forced himself to take a deep breath, calling on the Force to slow his breathing. "Yes, ok, I'm sorry, I've just, we've just…" His blue eyes, deep as an ocean, sought his Master's. "Obi-Wan, I want you. With every part of me. I want to explore every inch of you, see every scar, taste every bit of skin…," he breathed, his hand grabbing that coppery hair, roughly pulling Obi-Wan so close that noses nuzzled, cheeks grazed, and breath was hot on the other's lips.

With the words Obi-Wan, I want you echoing loudly in his mind and Anakin's lips close, so close, Obi-Wan gave himself over to his hunger completely. "Then do it. Now," he commanded, in a voice thick with longing and intent.

For once, that was all the direction Anakin needed.

Anakin took Obi-Wan by the hand and led him his room. At the edge of the bed, Obi-Wan took his free hand and grabbed Anakin's belt. Anakin shivered with anticipation, taking his long fingers up to trace Obi-Wan's lips, which were set in concentration as he worked on the belt. Obi-Wan looked up at him, a lock of hair falling into his stormy blue-green eyes. Obi-Wan recalled how Anakin had done this just a short while ago in the Gardens, and had set Obi-Wan's heart on fire. Anakin couldn't resist the look in his Master's eyes. He crushed his lips down on Obi-Wan's, devouring the taste of his love, biting hard enough that Obi-Wan cried out in satisfaction.

As Obi-Wan removed Anakin's belt, his Padawan's hands continued their investigation of his Master's nearly bare form, coming to rest on Obi-Wan's hips, playing with the edge of the towel. Anakin could easily see, could feel, the effect he was having on his Master. The towel had to go. Now.

Obi-Wan gasped as his last inhibition was torn from his waist, then felt his cheeks flush when he saw the satisfied appraisal on Anakin's face. He gently pushed Anakin back down onto the bed, helping him kick off the knee-high boots. Those pants, those damn black pants, were another matter. Anakin had always preferred leather, the more form-fitting, the better. While Obi-Wan could hardly disagree—Anakin's body was made to wear leather, now they were a serious impediment. He stood back, watching, as Anakin slowly unbuttoned them, then had to quell the fire that burned even hotter in his groin as Anakin slowly, agonizingly, slid them down over his hips, over his… Fucking Sith! thought Obi-Wan, as he gazed down at Anakin.

"Come here, please," Anakin purred, reaching out to his lover, pulling him down on to the bed.

Obi-Wan wanted, needed, to see, taste, and feel Anakin. Everywhere. He sat up and moved so that his legs straddled Anakin's waist, making both Jedi shudder at the close, intimate contact. He leaned over and brushed away some of the wild curls now stuck to Anakin's damp forehead. Nimble fingers lovingly traced the scar that ran down the right side of Anakin's face, moving down to run over those full, red lips that he had long desired to claim as his own.

Anakin lay still, glowing under the intense study his Master was making of his face, a face he had seen thousands of times, but never, ever, quite this way. He reached up and slid his hands over and behind Obi-Wan's hips to clench the very firm muscles of his Master's bottom. Obi-Wan tightened his grip on Anakin's waist, sending sparks between their bodies, then slowly lifted himself from Anakin, hands trailing down his Padawan's body, feeling every muscle, every tendon, his body taut from both years of training and overwhelming desire.

Anakin began to sit up, when Obi-Wan gave him a gentle Force-push back to the bed. Anakin's body spasmed at the next touch because, Force!, Obi-Wan was doing things with his hands, his mouth, his tongue…things that had only been a fantasy a day ago, an hour ago. His head tipped back, his mouth fell open, panting, as Obi-Wan filled his every need, his every desire. The burning, white-hot flame that had been building within Anakin since he watched his Master in the Gardens finally exploded in a firestorm of passion and release as he cried out Obi-Wan's name.

He fought for control, fought to catch an errant breath, reaching down for Obi-Wan. His lover acquiesced, moving up to lay a soft, loving kiss on Anakin's trembling lips. "That was, that was…" he struggled for words… "incredible." Obi-Wan gave a shy smile and shrugged, slightly uncomfortable in his new role as licentious lover.

Then he saw the feral glint in Anakin's eye. "But I'm better," Anakin growled, and in a move only a Jedi could perform, their bodies were reversed, with Anakin holding Obi-Wan's arms over his head, as his mouth moved down over his Master's chest, tongue lingering on one raised nipple, while his free hand glided over the other. Obi-Wan sucked in his breath as his hips arched up, only increasing the friction between their bodies. "Anakin!" was the strangled cry that escaped his lips. Anakin continued to explore every inch of Obi-Wan, as promised, sucking and licking every blemish, every birthmark, every scar, that was uniquely Obi-Wan. His Obi-Wan. His free hand continued its journey, dancing over a firm stomach, lightly grazing a hip, gently tracing the curve of the joint that lead him lower…

Obi-Wan moaned loudly and spots danced in front of his eyes as Anakin's hand finally came to rest. "Anakin, please!" At that moment, Anakin looked up to see the fiery desire in his Master's eyes, and never, ever, had he wanted to please Obi-Wan more. He released Obi-Wan's hands, which immediately went to Anakin's face and pulled him close. He kissed Anakin then, tongue gently tasting Anakin's lips. He looked at Anakin again. "Please, Anakin," he whispered, with an edge to his soft tone.

With much the same look of concentration as he had in his sabre practice, unruly hair falling forward, Anakin moved away, down, peppering Obi-Wan's trembling, heat-flushed body with kisses and caresses. Anakin thrilled in the taste and texture of Obi-Wan, so different from Padme, so soft without being delicate, so smooth without being fragile.

Obi-Wan, nearly undone by his Padawan, had ceased to try to control his passion. Years of holding back, years of trying to crush the desire he felt for Anakin rushed to the surface. It felt as though Anakin had hundreds of tongues and fingers, all driving Obi-Wan deliciously wild with fervor. Obi-Wan couldn't hold back the string of curses, joyful, pleasure-derived curses, that escaped from his lips, as Anakin increased his ministrations. Finally, all restraint was lost, as Obi-Wan succumbed to the tidal wave of passion that flowed over his entire being. Anakin drew himself up and pulled Obi-Wan, now quite sated, into his strong arms.

They lay together, bodies glowing in the aftermath of their passion, their love, their devotion to each other. Obi-Wan's head lay on Anakin's chest, hearing the rhythmic beating of his now-lover's heart. Anakin's arms wound around his Master, holding him as though he would never let go.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had never thought it could be like this. That he could ever feel like this. As if his whole life had been in anticipation of this moment. He did not need to open himself to the Force, for it was humming in the air around them. Anakin had taken half of his heart and made Obi-Wan whole.

No longer afraid, he lowered what shields he had left, and looked at Anakin through the Force. He gasped at the brilliance that was Anakin, the fiercely intense blinding light that sang of Anakin's greatness, his power, his perfection. Obi-Wan couldn't help himself—the words came effortlessly.

(Anakin, I love you.)

(I know. And I love you, Master. Obi-Wan. I have always loved you.)