A/N: The poem referenced is "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe.

Anakin woke up slightly cold and instinctively pulled the blankets up to his neck. He sighed at the immediate warmth they brought, and sent his sleepy gaze towards the window. Pale light filtered through the curtains. Anakin turned away from the light and smiled. Obi-Wan was still sleeping. His hair hung across his eyes, and he was on his side, facing Anakin. One of his hands was tucked under his pillow, the other one curled close to his lips. Anakin brushed the hair out of Obi-Wan's face, then he slipped his hand under the covers and touched Obi-Wan's shoulder, very lightly. Obi-Wan didn't wake up. Anakin let his hand slide across the fabric of Obi-Wan's tunic, down to his elbow, and kept going. He paused at Obi-Wan's hip and ran his thumb along the subtle curve inwards. Then his hand traveled further down Obi-Wan's side, and Anakin spread out his fingers and moved, slowly, an inch or two over, fingertips coming to rest on the softness of Obi-Wan's ass, and suddenly Obi-Wan stirred and Anakin removed his hand, feeling guilty, but oddly sure Obi-Wan would've forgiven him.

Obi-Wan blinked slowly and smiled at Anakin before raising his arms and stretching, unable to withhold a yawn as he did so. Anakin watched Obi-Wan's wide sleeves fall away from his hands, revealing a circle of spotty bruises on each wrist. Anakin snatched up both his hands and brought them towards him, turning them over so he could get a better look. Obi-Wan yelped and pulled his right hand out of Anakin's grip. Anakin looked at him expectantly.

Obi-Wan rubbed his wrist and explained, "This one still hurts, sometimes. From whatever Grievous did to it."

Anakin felt an ache in his chest. He linked his fingers with Obi-Wan's other hand and held it up slightly, asking, "Did Cody do this?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes," he said, "But that's all, like I told you. Our mission was a success."

Quietly, Anakin took back Obi-Wan's right hand, and pressed a kiss to each of his wrists. "My poor daddy," he whispered, "Everyone is so harsh with you."

Obi-Wan was silent as Anakin shifted, still with a hold on his hands, so that Anakin straddled Obi-Wan's hips and pinned his hands by his head. "Is this what he did?" Anakin asked, voice so low it sounded more like a ticking clock, or a cat's purr.

"Anakin—" Obi-Wan started to protest, suddenly uneasy.

Anakin put his hands around Obi-Wan's wrists instead, not quite touching, his fingers and thumbs acting like handcuffs. He started healing them, brows furrowed.

"Ah!" Obi-Wan turned his head swiftly to look at his right hand, exclaiming, "That hurts!"

Anakin bent down by his ear and told him he was sorry, that it would feel better when it wasn't broken. Obi-Wan nodded swiftly, and closed his eyes tight as Anakin continued healing him, lips brushing against his jaw as he moved his head from side to side, delighting in the feel of his father's beard. Obi-Wan made a strangled sound of pain, the bones in his wrist seeming to twist and rearrange. Anakin kissed Obi-Wan's neck as compensation, starting out soft and quickly becoming something else, his mouth hot and lingering as he trailed kisses over the exposed skin.

"Anakin... Ah..." Obi-Wan murmured.

Anakin finished healing his left wrist and intertwined their fingers again, still working on the other one, still exploring what he could of Obi-Wan.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said again, turning to try to face him, "This is inappropriate."

Slowly, Anakin pulled away and released Obi-Wan's left hand, smoothing Obi-Wan's messy hair instead. He said, "I just want someone to love you. Really love you."

"Someone does love me," Obi-Wan replied, "I have you. And Padmé."

Anakin examined Obi-Wan's wrist then, pushing gently with his thumb to see if he'd missed anything. Obi-Wan moved his hand clockwise, then counterclockwise, finding it didn't hurt anymore. "But don't you want a lover?" Anakin pressed.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer and Anakin interrupted, saying, "Think about it first." So Obi-Wan did. He liked how Anakin felt against his neck, and how their hands fit together—too much, he thought, among other things he liked about Anakin. He couldn't think of an objective answer. Obi-Wan snuck his arms around Anakin and pulled him close. "A lover would be nice," he said, "But I don't want you to worry about that." Anakin made a grumpy face. Obi-Wan rolled over with Anakin in his arms and drew in a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on Anakin's stomach. Anakin wiggled furiously, the tickle continuing as Obi-Wan took another breath and mashed his face against Anakin's bare skin.

"Father!" Anakin called. "That's not—haha—fair!"

"Oh, it's fair," Obi-Wan teased, "You kiss me, I kiss you."

Anakin's laughter grew louder as Obi-Wan's hands wandered. "It's not the same!" he cried.

"Who says?"

"I do!"

Obi-Wan went for Anakin's thighs and Anakin kicked uncontrollably, unable to fend him off with Obi-Wan between his legs. Anakin could hardly breathe. He linked his arms and legs around Obi-Wan tightly, panting into his ear, and Obi-Wan finally relented and moved to sit up, carrying Anakin with him. Obi-Wan laughed and took him downstairs like that, shaking off a few sheets that wanted to cling to them.

Padmé called to them from the kitchen, and Obi-Wan let Anakin slide off of him until his feet touched the floor. Anakin grinned widely, his arms still locked behind Obi-Wan's neck. "Look, Father," he said, "I'm taller than you!"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and looked down. "You're on your tip-toes, you naughty boy."

Anakin giggled and ran to the kitchen, stopping when he saw what Padmé had done. Fresh flowers bloomed from the vase in the center of the table, and breakfast was made for the three of them, and there was no evidence that Clovis had been there—or dripped blood from the dining room all the way to the sink. Padmé dabbed the sweat away from her forehead and mustered a smile. "I wanted to make it up to you," she explained.

"Padmé," Anakin said, but she continued.

"I had no idea Rush would do such a thing! But I should have, and I invited him over, so this is me saying I'm sorry."

Anakin stepped around the table and kissed her cheek as he hugged her. "Thank you."

Obi-Wan watched them fondly before taking a seat and sipping from a cup of caf. Anakin and Padmé parted and sat down as well. Obi-Wan reached over and took Padmé's hand before she could pick up her spoon. "You couldn't have known," he told her, "If anyone should have known…" He looked at both his kids as if to take all the blame.

"You're both being silly," Anakin piped up, "I'm not dead!"

Padmé smiled, and Obi-Wan seemed to grow more serious.

"C'mon, let's eat! This looks delicious," Anakin said, sticking his fork in a piece of quiche and bringing it to his mouth. "Mmm!"

Slowly, Obi-Wan moved to try his, and Padmé stirred her caf before scooping some cut fruit onto her plate, and the three of them ate, the mood lifting more and more. Anakin's phone buzzed from the family room, and Anakin excused himself to check it. It was a text from Elan. Anakin sat at the kitchen table again and asked, "Father?"

Obi-Wan set down his mug. "Yes, Anakin?"

"Can I see a holovid with Elan?"

Obi-Wan saw Anakin's bottom lip start to pout and felt the urge to curse. Instead, he said, "Of course, my dear."

Anakin could hardly contain his enthusiasm as he texted Elan back. He jumped up to get dressed.

"You used to call Shmi that," Padmé pointed out.

"What?" Obi-Wan said, distracted. He pulled his gaze away from Anakin's shrinking form to look at Padmé.

"Shmi," she repeated, "You called her 'my dear.'"

"Oh." He stuck a piece of strawberry with his fork and followed it with pineapple and cantaloupe. "Well, it's fitting, isn't it? He is her son."

"Mhm," Padmé said, watching him carefully. She leaned over and put her elbow on the table and her hand against her chin. "You think they've done it yet?" she whispered.

Obi-Wan turned towards her sharply, daggers in his eyes. He stood up and left her so he could stomp up the stairs and check on Anakin. He was about to knock on Anakin's door when it opened and Anakin emerged, fully dressed, and on the move. Obi-Wan trailed behind him, Anakin's dark robes fluttering as he turned into the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" he called back to Obi-Wan, who stopped to linger in the hallway.

Obi-Wan took a breath and strode to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Anakin brush his teeth. "Nothing's wrong," he replied.

Anakin spit in the sink and gave him a look. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Anakin gazed at him steadily. "Alright, alright. You can stop looking at me like that," Obi-Wan surrendered. Anakin smiled and rinsed off his mouth. "I was just wondering…" he started.

Anakin opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled Obi-Wan's cologne out. "Could I borrow this?" he asked.

"Okay," Obi-Wan said a little shakily, frowning as he watched Anakin lift his chin and spray the cologne on either side of his neck. "Anakin," he called.

Anakin's face fell and he put the little bottle back in the cabinet. He walked up to Obi-Wan and placed his hand on his cheek. Obi-Wan held Anakin's wrist, and rubbed his thumb across the palm of Anakin's hand, unable to ask what he wanted to know.

"I'm going to be fine," Anakin assured him, "And so will you."

He sighed. "I know." Then as a second thought, "Is Elan driving?"

"Uh-huh." Anakin slipped away from Obi-Wan so he could wash his face. "We're going to that old diner first."

"How fun," Obi-Wan commented.

Anakin scrubbed his face and dried off, smiling when he saw Obi-Wan was still in the doorway. Thinking of Padmé, he picked up a hairbrush and handed it to him.

Obi-Wan brushed his own hair and then turned to leave, brush in his hand, a harmless smirk on his face.

"Father!" Anakin protested. Obi-Wan came back as Anakin insisted, "Brush my hair, not yours."

Obi-Wan stood behind him and did as he was told, teasing, "This is why communication is important, Anakin."

Anakin scoffed. "More of your Jedi ways, Father?"

"No," he said, playing with a few strands of hair, wondering what a braid would look like in it now. "Just an old lover's proverb."

Anakin felt his ears burn, his mind searching for some other meaning Obi-Wan probably intended.

"Elan's found himself a keeper, don't you think?" Obi-Wan said, gesturing for Anakin to look at himself in the mirror. They both saw Anakin frown. Just advice for his first real date.

"Hey." Obi-Wan turned Anakin around gently, leaving a warm hand on his shoulder. "I meant what I told you last night."

Anakin thought back on it, remembering how he blushed at Obi-Wan's compliment. "What exactly did you tell me?" Anakin replied, feigning ignorance.

Obi-Wan looked at him knowingly. "Just that you received your parents' good looks. Especially your father's."

Anakin laughed through his nose and declared, "I'm sure Mother would disagree."

"With what? That I'm handsome, or that you look like me?"

Anakin hummed. "Both," he decided.

"You're really pushing it today," Obi-Wan said, barely holding in his laughter.

"What kind of son would I be if I didn't push you?"

"No son of mine."

Anakin pressed his lips together before his happiness made its escape, causing Obi-Wan to laugh, too—and Obi-Wan let Anakin finish getting ready in peace after that.

Elan arrived around noon and climbed the stairs to the porch so he could ring the doorbell. Padmé let him in, eager to get a better look at him. Elan didn't seem to mind. He was searching for Anakin's voice, antennapalps twisting until he found it.

"May the Force be with you," he heard Obi-Wan say, and Anakin repeated it back to him. There was the unmistakable jingle of credits in someone's pocket, and then Anakin was coming down the stairs, and Elan felt happier than he had in a long time.

"Hi, Elan," Anakin said, flashing that killer smile, "You look good."

Elan had to look down to remind himself what he was wearing. His usual long coat over a vest and studded jeans. He smiled back at him and asked, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." He took Elan's hand as they walked towards the front door.

"Bye, Ani!" Padmé called.

Anakin grimaced before calling back, "Bye, sissy!"

Elan peeked over his shoulder and heard her mutter, "Touché."

They took the stairs steadily, hand in hand, then clambered into Elan's yellow car and sped away, the radio blaring.

Obi-Wan tugged the curtain of his bedroom window closed, reminding himself he had other things to attend to, things that didn't include spying on his son.

The boys reached the diner shortly and ordered burgers, fries, and milkshakes to drink—two different kinds, so they could try both. They sat side by side, and the waiter didn't care—he was too frazzled by the birthday party with six little kids to serve, and four more frazzled moms—but Elan and Anakin had the corner booth far enough away that the noise didn't matter. They finished up their meal and Anakin stuck his straw in Elan's strawberry cheesecake shake. He took a sip, and then another. Elan grinned and wiped the whip cream off Anakin's lip before snagging the chocolate brownie milkshake Anakin had been hoarding.

"Very sneaky," Anakin said, shaking a salty finger at him.

Elan made "mmm" sounds as he sucked on the straw, drank the rest, and lapped up any remaining chocolate with his tongue.

"Stop that, Elan," Anakin urged, "You're making me—"

"Elan Sel'Sabagno," came a gruff voice. There was a very tall man standing in front of their table, his skin gray, cheeks sunken in, overall bony and thin. Antennapalps stood out of his coarse hair.

"Dad," Elan said, eyes wide. He reached for Anakin's hand under the table.

"Who's this?" the man demanded, jutting out his chin in Anakin's direction.

"Just a friend," Elan replied, squeezing Anakin's hand hard.

Anakin looked from Elan to his dad and spoke calmly, "My name is Anakin… sir."

"I didn't ask you," came his terse reply. He grabbed Elan's arm and yanked him out of the booth, saying, "I'm taking you home."

Anakin stood on his seat and raised his voice over a chorus of happy birthday. "Let him go!"

The man ignored him and began walking Elan out of the diner. "Let go," Elan pleaded, "You're hurting me." Anakin followed them for a few steps and shouted, "Hey!"

Elan's dad spun around and shoved Anakin square in the chest, causing him to fall backwards against the white and red tiled floor. A few heads turned and Anakin scrambled to his feet as the man dragged Elan out the door. Anakin rushed out of the diner and saw Elan wrench himself free of the man's grip, only to feel his father's fist meet his eye. He hit the pavement as Anakin ran towards them, digging his lightsaber out of his robe pocket where it wouldn't be seen. Elan's dad was lecturing, swearing, yelling—Anakin didn't know what—as Elan stayed put on the ground, not risking another hit.

Anakin found himself standing between them, blue blade of the lightsaber humming loudly. Elan couldn't believe his eyes. His dad stopped berating him for a moment and sneered, "Am I supposed to be afraid of that?"

Anakin swung the blade near the man's feet, cutting a deep groove in the asphalt instantly. He raised it again slowly.

The man took a step back. "Who do you think you are?" he growled. Then, with determination, "Elan is my son, and I'm going to take him home whether he likes it or not."

"No," Anakin said evenly, "You aren't going to touch him."

The man took a step towards Elan and Anakin put another hole in the asphalt. Elan's dad jumped back and scowled.

"You can go home without Elan," Anakin told him, "Or you can go in pieces. Your choice."

Elan watched, stunned, as his father made his decision and got in his car. He drove off without him. Anakin powered down the saber and helped Elan to his feet.

"What is that?" Elan asked, pure awe on his face.

"This?" Anakin showed him the lightsaber hilt. "It's a lightsaber. Haven't you heard of Jedi before?"

"No," Elan said, reaching for the lightsaber. "Can I…?"

"Later," Anakin replied, "I don't want you to cut your hand off in full view of the diner. That would be embarrassing."

Elan laughed and Anakin observed a drop of blood slide down Elan's temple where there was a scrape, his eye also red and puffy. Anakin took Elan's hand gently and led him back to the diner. He asked for ice at the counter and held a napkin to Elan's temple in the meantime.

"Thank you, Anakin," Elan said quietly.

"For what?" he joked. "You know what, I bet I could heal this, easy. Do you trust me?"

"Now more than ever," replied Elan, and Anakin dropped a handful of credits on the counter before tugging Elan toward the exit. They sat in Elan's car and Anakin healed both the scrape and the impending black eye within a minute. Elan sniffled and started the car, saying, "We'll be late for the holovid if we don't go now."

"Wait, are you sure you still want to go?"

"Yeah, 'course." He pulled out of the parking lot as Anakin sat back, not sure what to say.

Obi-Wan called the office of Coruscant High and asked about transferring Anakin to another English class.

"Who is your son's teacher?"

"Rush Clovis."

"Let me connect you with Mister Clovis. I'm sure we can solve this issue without uprooting your son."

Obi-Wan argued that no, there was no other way to solve the issue—to be fair, he didn't specify what the issue was—and soon he was on the phone with Principal Palpatine.

"Are you able to put Anakin in a different English class?" Obi-Wan asked, trying desperately not to sound desperate.

"May I ask why you want to move him? I have his grade report right here, and he is doing excellently in Rush's class."

"I'd really rather not say."

"In that case, I recommend leaving Anakin where he is. The boy's performance can only progress under Rush's influence."

Obi-Wan thought he was going to be sick. "Please, Mister Palpatine, that man is not who you think he is. He has demonstrated… inappropriate behavior towards my son."

Palpatine paused a moment, and then replied, "Can you elaborate?"

"You can take my word for it," Obi-Wan nearly snapped, "Rush Clovis should not be teaching."

"Such behavior is unheard of in my school," Palpatine said, and Obi-Wan couldn't tell if he was serious or mocking him. "Perhaps you should file a police report?"

"So you won't move him."

"Of course, Anakin will have to recount exactly what Rush allegedly did, and it may take some time for the case to move forward, especially if there is no substantial evidence—"

"Answer me," interrupted Obi-Wan.

The old man huffed, and said, "No. I have complete faith in my staff," and Obi-Wan put the phone back on its hook and tried to clear his head so he could figure out what to do next.

Elan and Anakin reached the holotheater without talking to each other. Anakin just listened to the rumble of the engine, the radio now turned off. Elan bought the tickets and a large soda for them to share. They climbed the carpeted stairs to the top row of the theater just as the lights dimmed. Anakin picked a holovid that had been out for a while, so not many people were in the theater with them—there was a group of people in the front row, and more spread out in the middle, but no one else in the top row. The wide screen flickered to life and began feeding them black and white images of an elderly man and a toy monkey, then, brilliant color washed over the screen and a teenage boy was playing with the same monkey in a street littered with garbage, but the boy was dressed nicely, so Anakin was about to lean over and ask Elan about it when Elan grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. Anakin kissed him back after the shock wore off, and Elan's tongue pushed deep in his mouth before retreating so he could run it along Anakin's jaw. He slowed down a bit and inhaled deeply, and Anakin thought of Obi-Wan's cologne, and then Elan was alternating between kissing Anakin's neck and sucking at the skin there, and Anakin was aching to know if it would leave a mark, or two, or three. Elan paused for a second, and nibbled on Anakin's ear as he rubbed the space where Anakin's tunic made a V over his collarbones, and Anakin took a tremulous breath before asking if Elan was alright.

"I want to thank you for what you did earlier," Elan replied, the words warm in Anakin's ear.

"You already did," Anakin whispered back.

A lady with a lofty hairdo turned around and shushed them from a few seats over and one row down.

Elan smiled anyway, his lips soft on Anakin's skin. He said, "I want to thank you a different way." His hand traveled south until Anakin got the idea.

Anakin tensed, and felt sweat drip down his spine. He was already hard. "It's up to you," Elan murmured, licking his lips when Anakin turned to face him.

Anakin's "okay" was pulled from him faster than a bolt from a blaster, and he tugged down his pants just enough, and Elan smirked as he raised the armrest between them and leaned over. Anakin tried not to squirm as Elan's mouth met his cock. Suddenly he didn't know what to do with his hands, and he planted one in Elan's hair as the other gripped the armrest. The light from the theater screen flashed across Anakin's facial features, highlighting his cheekbones one second, blacking out his eyes the next as Anakin looked down at Elan, hand in his hair becoming a fist as Elan took him deeper into his mouth. Anakin muttered "fuck" under his breath.

Elan grasped the base of his cock with his hand, lips sliding all the way off so he could press a finger to them. "Shh…"

Anakin bit his lip and threw his head back as Elan leaned over him again, licking him in time with his hand's strokes, and then he took all of him into his mouth and Anakin threw his hands up, fingers balled into fists, moan escaping his throat despite his best efforts. Elan didn't stop this time, just held out one hand for Anakin to hold in a death grip, the other bracing himself on Anakin's thigh. Anakin tried to distract himself with the holovid as sweat gathered on every inch of his skin. His breath came quicker, shallower, and Anakin buried his free hand in his own hair, fingers tightening until he was almost yanking out the strands, and he seized the armrest again, shaking with the effort not to hold Elan's head in place and fuck his mouth. He whined something incoherent, followed by, "Elan…"

Elan squeezed his hand and moved in time with the holovid's music, the electric guitar starting to cry, steadily rising in pitch and volume and tempo until Anakin yelled, "Elan!"

Elan slipped out of his seat and knelt between Anakin's legs, mouth open wide. Anakin's vision went white for several seconds. He closed his eyes and saw swirls of light against the darkness, his skin tingling as if he were floating. Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been brought back from the dead, and his body refused to move even as he felt Elan sit beside him again.

"Good?" Elan whispered.

Anakin let go of a breathy laugh. "Amazing." Elan smiled and wiped his mouth on the inside of his coat sleeve. Anakin tugged his pants back up and shook out the tension in his fingers before bringing Elan close. He let his lips sweep over Elan's cheek until they met another pair, and Anakin kissed him with the tiniest of movements, running his fingertips along his jaw and into his hair, where he smoothed over the tufts he'd made with his fist. Elan rested his head on Anakin's shoulder and they watched the rest of the holovid, laughing at themselves when they had no idea what was going on.

Deputy Rex agreed to meet Obi-Wan for caf in town. Obi-Wan drove along the winding road from the motel to the spattering of shops and restaurants and homes known as Coruscant. Rex sat at a table to the far side of the café, and Obi-Wan joined him a minute before their scheduled meeting time.

Rex looked him over before sitting up straight and saying, "I'll admit, I was a little nervous when you called. It's not another body, is it?"

Obi-Wan sort of smiled and replied, "Not a dead one. I'm sorry to take up your time like this, but I already called the school—"

A waitress stopped at their table and made several distinct, but ultimately disgusted faces, the tattoos on her tan face morphing with her hostility. She was the same waitress who served Obi-Wan when he had met Cody there.

"Making the rounds, I see," Jovi said, glaring at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan's mouth parted, and he glanced at Rex, whose brows were furrowed before it dawned on him what she meant. Obi-Wan looked back at Jovi, her arms crossed, and he tried to form an explanation as embarrassment coiled in him. Rex shook his head, sputtering out, "No—that's not—we aren't—" before standing and lowering his voice, hands forming fists unconsciously—"This isn't a date."

She backed away from him, grumbling, "Alright, tough guy. You might want to check in with your brother next time."

Rex was practically snarling at her. Obi-Wan left his seat swiftly and made his way to the café's bathroom. Rex's expression changed abruptly.

Jovi walked away calmly and started serving another table. After a moment, Rex headed after Obi-Wan.

"Hey," called Jovi.

Rex turned around.

"No funny business."

Rex scowled, then took a deep breath and tried to relax as he pushed open the door to the bathroom. Obi-Wan was splashing cold water on his face when he heard the door hinges creak. He faced the other direction and starting pulling paper towels out of the dispenser.

"Obi-Wan," Rex called.

He slowed just a bit, but continued patting his face dry with the towels. It was odd to hear his first name from Rex's mouth.

Rex leaned against the sink counter and crossed his arms casually. Inside he was praying that he hadn't made the other man cry. Obi-Wan crumpled the paper towels together and threw them away. He turned and crossed his cloak over his body, and left his hands balled up in the fabric. His cheeks were a little red, but his eyes weren't. He started to say something at the same time Rex did but clamped his mouth shut and gave him a curt nod.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," Rex said, a frown cutting deep into his face. "What that waitress said brought back some high school memories and… Anyway, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that."

Obi-Wan nodded after a moment, eyes fixating on the leftover drip from the sink faucet. "It wouldn't be a crime," he said softly, "if it was a date."

"In some people's eyes, it might be."

Obi-Wan's lips parted, and he asked, "Yours?"

Rex stared at him a moment and then he shook his head. "No."

There was silence apart from the drip of the faucet. Obi-Wan smiled bitterly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He mumbled, "The Sheriff wants to use me, the Deputy wants nothing to do with me, and I honestly believed one of you could help me—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Rex cut in, stepping closer to him, "I didn't say that."

Obi-Wan turned to him, his eyes about to brim over.

"You really need my help?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan confessed.

"Okay," replied Rex, and he grabbed another paper towel for Obi-Wan, joking, "You missed a spot."

Obi-Wan laughed meekly as he dried his eyes, asking afterwards, "Do you know a high school teacher named Rush Clovis?"

"So Jedi can't have sex?"

Anakin laughed a little and answered, "No, they aren't allowed. No attachments, no sex."

Elan thought about it and shook his head. "Must've been hard for your dad," he said, light twinkling in his eye.

Anakin smacked his arm and replied, "Yeah, actually. He left the Order because of it."

Elan moved closer to Anakin as they walked along the tree line. "Now I'm curious," he said, looking up at Anakin.

Anakin's lips curled up at one end and he swung his arm around Elan's shoulders. "Alright," he agreed, "I'll tell you all about Obi-Wan, the great seducer of women. It all started when he met Satine Kryze..."

"Pretty name," Elan said.

"She was a diplomat, and he was her Jedi escort while she was traveling in another country. He says he fell in love with her after just a few days."

"How old was he?" asked Elan.

Anakin smiled. "Seventeen."

"No wonder," he said, giving Anakin's side a squeeze.

"Well, they got together in secret, and eventually, Satine told my father she was pregnant. He was already considering leaving the Order by then, and that did the trick."

"But what about the... the Padawan and the Master thing?"

"I'm sure he misses Yoda. He liked the structure and everything the Jedi stood for. But families have structure, too. And he loved Satine. They got married with a few friends as witnesses."

A car zoomed past them on the far side of the road. They shifted their path slightly and began walking through the trees, the stretch between the boys and the theater parking lot growing steadily.

Anakin continued, "But then Satine died in childbirth. Father was left alone with Padmé."

Elan stopped walking. "That's terrible. Why did she die?"

Anakin decided to rest and sat between two large, bumpy tree roots. "We don't really know," he said, "Something just… went wrong. Father took her death really hard and… I think his relationship with Padmé has been off ever since."

Elan had settled beside him and started playing with some leaves. He turned to Anakin. "What happened next?"

"Father packed up the few things he had and the money Satine had left him and moved to a few different places with Padmé. Eventually they ended up in Tatooine. That's when he met my mother." Anakin gathered all the leaves around him for Elan. He seemed to be making a house out of them.

"And was it love at first sight?"

Anakin gave him a small smile. "I don't know. From what my father's told me, I think they both knew the other had been dealt a bad hand. She took them under her roof and treated Padmé like her own daughter. Father finally had the family he'd wanted for five years. They were married and had me not long after."

"Awww."

The house of leaves was starting to shape up and Elan attempted to add a second story. Anakin dug a hole in the ground with his fingers and dropped piles of dirt by the house. He smoothed them over to look more like sand dunes. He said, "When I was seven, Mother got sick. Father took her to every doctor in the area, and then every doctor in every big city. Padmé looked after me during the longer trips." His voice became smaller. "Father did his best not to come home any later than he said they'd be. Then one night..."

Elan stopped trying to make little people out of sticks and looked at Anakin. Anakin looked away, drew his knees to his chest and held himself. Slowly, Elan reached for him, and Anakin stood up suddenly, willing himself not to dwell on the past. He helped Elan up and they started walking back to the holotheater, leaving the miniature house standing, despite Anakin's desire to squash it. He took a deep breath and tried to focus more on his words than the memory of it. "Then one night, he didn't come home with her. It was just him. I couldn't really comprehend… I mean, I knew, but I still thought I would see her again. She told me I would see her again. Father was a mess, and he kept apologizing for it, but he said he didn't want us to be alone that night. He didn't want to be alone, either."

Elan wanted to pull out a lighter and a cigarette from his coat pocket, debated on whether it would really help, and then decided Anakin might need it more. Anakin tried it and then coughed so much he handed it back to Elan. Elan looked at him fondly and held the cigarette between his teeth, blowing out the swirling smoke before he asked, "Where did you go from there?"

Anakin decided he didn't want to talk about Ventress. He said, "We moved to Naboo. Padmé became one of the youngest senators ever and graduated from college in the same year. Father worked a part-time job so he could spend a lot of time with me. You wouldn't believe how beautiful it is there."

Elan smiled slightly, then ventured, "Why did you leave?"

Anakin realized, then, that he had never talked to anyone about why they left. It felt sort of like a punch to the stomach. But Elan was there, and he of all people might be the one to tell. So Anakin told him, "Father met another woman. She looked sort of like a witch to me, but he liked her, and wanted to do for her what Mother did for us. She lived with us, and things were alright, at first." Anakin kicked a rock and it skipped in front of them for a few feet. "Then something changed—I don't know why—but it was kind of like what your dad did today. Except Father was never the one hurting her. It was the other way around."

"Anakin," Elan breathed, and grabbed his hand to keep up with his hurried pace. Anakin took his hand and kept going.

"Father tried to shield us from it. Padmé dormed to avoid it. She couldn't understand why he didn't fight back. Father thought he could fix Ventress with love and forgiveness. He just kept believing her when she said she was sorry."

Elan stayed quiet.

"There was an accident in the kitchen one day. Somehow the china cabinet fell over and crushed her. It killed her."

"Anakin," Elan said. Anakin listened to the crunch of leaves and twigs under his feet. Elan stood firmly in one place and Anakin walked on without pulling Elan along by his hand. Elan called his name again. When he didn't respond, Elan ran to catch up and cut off his path. "Anakin!"

"What?"

He looked normal enough. Elan stammered, "I thought… I thought you might have blacked out, or something."

Anakin seemed confused. "What are you talking about?"

Elan thought he might have been joking, and then when he realized he wasn't, Elan hugged him. "Nothing," he replied, holding Anakin tight, "I'm so happy you made it here. To Coruscant."

Anakin thought Elan was acting funny, but wrapped his arms around him anyway. "Thanks, Elan." They walked back to the car and Elan drove Anakin home.

Elan pulled into the motel parking lot and said goodbye to Anakin with a long kiss. They parted and Anakin said, "Call me if you're ever in trouble." With a mischievous grin, he added, "I'll bring my lightsaber."

"Okay, Master Jedi," Elan teased back.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Anakin carded a hand through his hair and let his fingers brush over Elan's antennapalps before getting out of the car and heading up to the house. Elan drove away as Anakin went inside.

"Father!" Anakin called.

"In the kitchen," he replied.

Anakin took long strides to reach him. Obi-Wan was making tea with a strong but pleasant scent. Anakin asked, "How was your day?"

"Oh, a bit stressful." Obi-Wan stirred his drink with a slim silver spoon.

"I thought so," Anakin said, "You always make that tea when you're stressed."

Obi-Wan took a sip. "Do I, now?"

"Yeah." Anakin held out his hand and, to Obi-Wan's dismay, floated the teacup out of his hand and set it on the counter. Anakin walked up to him and pulled him close. Obi-Wan leaned into him and closed his eyes. He started to feel the weight of the world slide away. Anakin felt it, too.

After that, the way Anakin felt about his date with Elan bounced from ecstasy to remorse and back again. He worried that he'd lied to Obi-Wan—betrayed him, somehow—and it ate him up, clawed around his insides till it would tear through his throat at any second. But then again, he couldn't even name everything he felt for Elan—he just knew that they were good things—things he didn't want to give up.

Anakin got ready for bed haltingly, moving around his room like a windup toy. When he was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, he knocked on the door that connected his room to Obi-Wan's.

"Come in," called Obi-Wan.

Anakin opened the door and closed it behind him. He wrung his hands in the hem of his shirt.

Obi-Wan frowned at him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I was wondering..."

Obi-Wan moved to the other side of the bed and pulled back the sheets next to him. "Is this what you want?"

Anakin nodded and slipped into the space Obi-Wan had made for him.

Obi-Wan smiled a little as he looked down at Anakin. "There isn't a ghost in your room, is there?"

"No, Father," he said, "I... wanted to know if you would read me a story. If I'm not too old."

"Of course I will," Obi-Wan replied. He got out of bed and went to his bookshelf. "What story are you in the mood for?"

Anakin bit his lip as he thought. "How about a poem?"

Obi-Wan looked for a few seconds. "Ah, here it is." He swiped the poetry book off the shelf and got back in bed. Anakin made himself comfy as Obi-Wan turned through several pages. He began, "It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know by the name of Annabel Lee. And this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me…"

Anakin listened to his voice contentedly, the way he paused in just the right places, the formation of the words so perfect in his mouth.

"I was a child and she was a child, in this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love—I and my Annabel Lee—"

Anakin watched his lips move, an indescribable sense of need filling his lungs.

"But our love it was stronger by far than the love of those who were older than we—of many far wiser than we—And neither the angels in Heaven above nor the demons down under the sea can ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Annabel Lee…"

I love you, Anakin thought, I love you…

"And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side of my darling—my darling…" Obi-Wan held the book with one hand and took Anakin's hand in the other, giving it a kiss before finishing the poem. My darling… He set the book on his nightstand and glanced at Anakin, finding him still awake. Obi-Wan lied down and figured Anakin would get the lamp. He closed his eyes.

"Elan blew me."

Obi-Wan was silent for a few agonizing seconds. He opened his eyes, brows coming together, then he breathed, "What?"

Anakin swallowed and said, "Elan gave me a... a blowjob."

Obi-Wan didn't respond, just stared up at the ceiling.

"Father," Anakin said, his voice wavering as he propped himself up to look at Obi-Wan, "You aren't saying anything."

"I thought you went to the theater," he whispered.

"We did."

Obi-Wan met Anakin's eyes, asking, "Then where...?"

Anakin turned away as his face bled red.

Obi-Wan sat up, eyes wide as he looked down at him. "Force, Anakin!"

Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's pillow, stomach against the mattress. Obi-Wan grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Anakin looked afraid, his features twisting intensely.

Obi-Wan's demeanor changed instantly. Softly, he said, "Anakin."

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"No," Obi-Wan said, caressing Anakin's cheeks with his fingertips, and then with his knuckles. "Sweetheart, I just want you to listen to me."

Anakin relaxed somewhat, and Obi-Wan continued running his fingers across the boy's face and through his hair.

"I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me," he began, "You can tell me anything, always."

Anakin nodded.

Obi-Wan couldn't help the frown that tore at his lips. "I thought your judgment might be better, though. What if you had gotten caught? There's no knowing what could have happened." His voice grew a little tight near the end.

"But we didn't get caught," Anakin joked halfheartedly, trying to lift the mood.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face before settling down next to Anakin. He breathed in and out, somewhat relieved after all. He turned to face Anakin. "You must have been quiet," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Anakin turned red again. He replied seriously, "I think the congratulations for being quiet should go to Elan."

Obi-Wan laughed without holding back. He wrapped an arm around Anakin as the boy tangled their legs together. They were motionless for a moment, then Obi-Wan brought his hand out from underneath his pillow and brushed the untamed curls away from Anakin's forehead, asking, "But you enjoyed it?"

"Yes," Anakin said, almost breathlessly, "It was unlike anything I've ever felt before. Ever."

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile before his next question. "And Elan didn't ask for anything in return?"

"No," he answered, "Nothing."

"Really?"

"He wanted to thank me," Anakin said. Then concern etched into his face and he asked, "Should I have done something?"

"Only if you wanted to," Obi-Wan said, "And not in the theater."

Anakin cringed.

Obi-Wan wanted to laugh again, for some reason. He kissed Anakin's scrunched up nose and told him, "Oh, Anakin... I think that boy really loves you."

Anakin felt like his heart was going to burst. "Father..." he started.

Obi-Wan hummed a response.

He meant to say thank you, but it came out "I love you" instead.

Their embrace seemed to grow warmer somehow, lighter, and Obi-Wan said, "I love you, too," before giving Anakin another quick kiss.

Anakin wanted to sigh, but he felt too good to mourn what Obi-Wan wasn't giving him—and still, he wasn't sure if there was anything Obi-Wan would deny him forever.