When the meaning of Obi-Wan's words hit him, Anakin released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. More than a lingering obligation, more than a duty to be served, Anakin meant something to Obi-Wan, he was important. Unable to stop the quiet whimper of relief that stole from him, he closed his eyes, feeling the tears trickle out from under his lids. He was an attachment to Obi-Wan. "You...you don't know how long I've waited for that," Anakin said hoarsely, running a warm open palm from Obi-Wan's shoulder up to rest over the hand in his hair.

"Too long, it seems." Obi-Wan exhaled wearily. Too long had he hidden his cowardice, too long had he hidden his multitude of failures when it came to his duty to Anakin. Suddenly aware of their proximity, of the heat of Anakin's cheek against his, the dampness of sweat on skin beneath his fingers, he pulled back, extricating his fingers from Anakin's hair with determined diligence. Frowning, he dragged the edge of his thumb through the wetness that shone over the scar under Anakin's eye. "You shouldn't have been waiting."

"It's...it's okay, Master. I told you, I understand," Anakin smiled tremulously, ducking his head and rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I would have waited forever, Obi-Wan. It was worth it, just to hear you say you—"

"Oh, Anakin, no." Obi-Wan took hold of Anakin's shoulders firmly, giving him a quick shake. "That is not what I meant. You shouldn't have been waiting at all. You shouldn't have been waiting for something that was never supposed to be, something that we have both been trained to renounce in the name of the greater good we serve."

He looked away, letting his hands drop. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better Master to you. If I had trained you properly, you would have learned to let your emotions, your attachments, go. Another Master would have taught you not...to want, not to need." His voice dropped to a penitent whisper, hands twisting in his lap restlessly. "I am sorry, Anakin. You deserved so much more. I have...I have failed us both."

Anakin bolted upright off the bunk with a dangerous, frustrated growl. "For fuck's sake!" he shouted, glowering down at his Master incredulously. "You, Obi-Wan Kenobi, are more than I ever deserved. No one else would have taken me on, no one would have had the patience and understanding and unbelievable faith in me to get me here, to take a backward slave boy and somehow carve out a Jedi Knight." Breath hitching, he stormed over to the door, stomping the bottom of a bare foot angrily against the durasteel. "You didn't fail me, Obi-Wan. I failed me."

Anakin turned back wearily, resting his hands on his hips as he heaved a deep breath. "And I don't care anymore what the Jedi say I can and cannot do or think or feel. I know I'm not the Jedi I'm supposed to be, but that's not your fault. My feelings are not something that you can control, Obi-Wan," he said, stabbing a finger first at his chest, then at his Master. "You should know that by now."

Obi-Wan snorted derisively, dropping his head into his hands. "Obviously. But I can—I should—be able to control my own weaknesses. To not allow them to compromise my duty to the Jedi, or my duty to you."

"Why does it have to be a weakness?" Anakin demanded, beginning to pace again "Why can't it be a strength, to need someone, to...to...love someone? I feel stronger because of you, Obi-Wan; it doesn't feel like weakness to want to fight, to live, for someone else, to be with someone else."

Pressing his fingers against his temples, Obi-Wan let out a despondent moan. "Anakin, don't. Please. Don't say that..."

Anakin spun around sharply. "Say what? That I can't imagine my life without you in it? That I don't want to live a life without you by my side? That I need you, more than I need the Jedi? That you're as essential to me as the Force?" He crossed the room in three quick strides, kneeling in front of Obi-Wan, his hands clenching the older man's thighs. "Believe me, I've tried not to feel anything, not to have attachment, but I can't. I love you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan jerked his head up, shocked. "You don't mean that, Anakin. You're exhausted, you...you don't know what you're saying," he refuted, shaking his head vehemently, not allowing himself to comprehend what it would mean if Anakin did.

Anakin's eyes narrowed and he scowled darkly, sitting back on his heels. "No. No. You don't get to do...that. You don't get to sit there and tell me you have attachment and then tell me I don't—or can't—love you. No."

"Fine, then. I'm exhausted, Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped suddenly, shoving off Anakin's hands. He plucked at his leggings agitatedly before slamming his hand on edge of the bunk, rattling the metal. "I'm tired of filthy clothing and I'm tired of the atrocious smell of bacta and I'm tired of this fucking war! I'm tired of waking up and worrying that today will be the day you go and get yourself killed, knowing that it will be my fault, because I should have trained you better!" he yelled, closing his hands around Anakin's upper arms, shaking him roughly.

Enraged, Anakin jerked backward, throwing off Obi-Wan's grip. "You think I'm not tired of the fucking war, Master? You think I don't wake up every kriffing day thinking the exact same thing, that today will be day that I won't get there in time to save you, that it will be my fault because I was never good enough to have been your Padawan in the first place?"

"Do not even start with that again, Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "I don't know why you persist and persist in that belief when you know very well that is not true!"

Anakin stared at him, a bitter, broken laugh cutting the silence. "Do I? Do I? You don't even want me as your partner anymore!" he pointed out, roughly cuffing at the hot tears of frustration that prickled at the corners of his eyes. "You say I'm your best friend, your brother, but you never let me get close. I'm tiredof never knowing where I stand with you anymore, of feeling like I mean nothing to you, only to have you turn around just now and tell me you care, that you have attachment, and then you push me away again,saying I can't want, or feel the same way about you, that I can't love—"

"That is enough." Obi-Wan yanked Anakin up forcefully between his knees, glaring as he bent forward, breath hot on Anakin's face. "Enough." Panting, he raked his eyes wildly from Anakin's dangerously dark eyes down to his too-close, too-provocative mouth. "You want to know why we can't be partners anymore? Do you?" he gritted out, brutally digging his nails into Anakin's shoulders. "Because I am so tired of fighting this...thing with you!"

"Then stop fighting it!" Following Obi-Wan's restless gaze until they locked in a heated, challenging stare, Anakin lunged closer, just a hair's breadth between them. "Stop fighting it," he repeated, growling low and hot against Obi-Wan's mouth.

Both of them froze, stunned into a breathless silence as Anakin's lips lingered there, soft and slack, a kiss and not really a kiss. After a moment that felt like an infinity, Obi-Wan's hands relaxed against his shoulders and Anakin inhaled softly, easing his mouth open just a fraction more, wanting to feel more of Obi-Wan's bottom lip against his, wanting to make it real.

When Obi-Wan felt the movement of Anakin's mouth against his, the gentle tug on his lip as it slid between Anakin's, a swell of long-dormant desire flared to life within him, and for the briefest of moments, Obi-Wan Kenobi allowed it. In that space between instants, he allowed it to wash over him, to feel the heat and passion and desire and...Anakin. The sensation was as decadently overwhelming as it was frightening, threatening to drown him in its intensity. Suppressing an almost anguished moan, Obi-Wan forcefully pulled himself back, breaking the kiss.

"Ana-Anakin," he croaked, his mouth suddenly as dry as his lips—Anakin's lips?—were wet. "No, no...I can't," he protested feebly, mind and body reeling as they fought an internal battle of wills, of what was right and what was wrong, of what he wanted and what he needed, of being a Jedi and being a man, of being isolated and being complete. "I can't," he repeated, breath increasingly rough and unsteady, unable to temper his emotional chaos enough to call on the Force for guidance.

Anakin groaned his frustration, his breath just as erratic. "Why? Tell me why! Because the Code says so? Because the Council does?" He gripped the edge of the bunk and closed his eyes, willing his emotions into a calm he rarely possessed. "The Code was written at a time without war, when the Jedi were keepers of the peace, not the bringers of war. And the Council? They sit high in their chambers, deciding who will live and who will die, but they haven't seen what we've seen, had to do...the kinds of things we've had to do. They have no idea what it's like out here, what it smells like, sounds like, feels like," he declared bitterly, struggling to keep his voice calm. "None."

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan then, his eyes betraying his desperation as much as his determination to make his Master hear him. "What do they know about death and loss and valor and brotherhood and—" He pressed closer, feeling Obi-Wan's hands give just a little against him. "And love?" he implored in a passionate, broken whisper.

"Don't..." Obi-Wan shook his head, locking his arms as he pressed his palms flat against Anakin's shoulders. "I-we can't," he insisted blindly, trying not to hear Anakin's words, trying to shut out the truth in them, because...because a part of him, that part that was weak with attachment and emotion, that part that had allowed him to feel and to need, knew Anakin was right. And it frightened him to his core.

"Stop it," Anakin cried, reaching up between them to clamp his hands around Obi-Wan's. "Stop pushing me away! Look at us—we're all we have out here. You've been my world for so long, my Master, my partner, my best friend...I don't want to do this alone. To be alone... Don't make me be alone, Obi-Wan." He tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's hands, begging the other man to look at him. "Please."

Obi-Wan knew what Anakin was saying, he knew exactly what he felt. He knew the bone-weary loneliness that had hung over him like an ill-fitting cloak for most of his life, how he could feel complete and yet completely separate when in the company of his fellow Jedi, the brotherhood by which he should feel embraced and gratified. Instead, he felt that camaraderie, that sense of belonging, continually eluding him, as though he was wrapped in flimsiplast, able to see but unable to fully connect with another being.

Except for Anakin. It had always felt different to be around Anakin, to bask in that white-hot fire Anakin's presence gave off in the Force, unbalancing and grounding Obi-Wan at the same time. He knew how different it felt to have shared a life with Anakin, how that sense of completeness had comforted him in the darkest of days, from Qui-Gon's death to Ventress to whatever the Force still held in the ready for him, knowing that for Obi-Wan to survive, he also needed Anakin to survive. Oh...oh Force, Obi-Wan sighed deeply, finally resigning himself to this truth. He needed...Anakin. The sudden clarity brought a hint of a frown as much as a smile to touch his lips. He needed Anakin.

"I...I don't mean to push you away... It's just...I..." Obi-Wan gazed down at the strong hands covering his own and trembled, from the warmth they gave as much as the power and passion that flowed through them. "Don't you...can you not see...Anakin, I..." He sighed again. "I don't...I can't...do this alone, either. I...I need you," he said quietly, glancing away in embarrassment. "I need you. But I'm afraid..."

"Afraid?" Anakin smiled even as his brows crinkled up with confusion. Obi-Wan needed him, Obi-Wan needed him, and yet... "Afraid of what? Obi-Wan, you're not afraid of anything...oh." His eyes fell on the fresh blaster burn near where their hands lay, that familiar knot of guilt and hurt and disappointment starting to twist again in his stomach. "Of me? You're afraid of me?" he asked quietly, swallowing hard as he looked at the floor. "I...I guess I can understand that—"

"What? No, of course not!" Obi-Wan denied instantly, sitting up with a start. Wincing at the angry warning from his hip, he slouched almost as quickly. "Well, yes," he amended with a tilt of his head as he reconsidered, until he noticed the devastated look on former Padawan's face. Quickly, he twisted his wrists, altering their position so that he could now grasp Anakin's hands tightly in his own. "No! No, that's not what I mean! Anakin."

Obi-Wan pulled at him with a quick jerk of his arms, groaning his vexation when Anakin continued to chew his lip, ignoring him. "Anakin. That is not what I mean. I have never, could never, be afraid of you. I told you, I want no other Jedi by my side, because I don't need them. But I...I need you, Anakin Skywalker. You make me feel completely, ridiculously safe under circumstances when, yes, I suppose others have questioned my sanity—and yours—but...but...I do." Obi-Wan offered him a warm, self-conscious smile. "I just do."

Anakin bit his lip again, this time to quiet the nervous pride that had always stirred in his heart when Obi-Wan spoke with such conviction about him. "Okay then, so..." he started, and brought their hands down between them, settling back on his heels again, slowly stroking his thumbs against Obi-Wan's palms. "If it's not me, then what are you afraid of? Talk to me, Obi-Wan. Tell me. We've already lived a life together, why can't we live another one?" he asked earnestly, tossing aside an errant fringe of curls to gaze up at his Master, his face full of youthful hope and anticipation. "An even better one?"

Obi-Wan took a moment, watching their hands, feeling the rough tickle of Anakin's thumbs against his skin. He released a shaky breath, wanting so much to find the right words this time, not knowing in the least how to express to Anakin how lost he felt right now. "Don't you think I wish I could just...say yes? But it's not that easy for me. I'm...I'm not like you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said honestly, then gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. "Not that you need me to tell you that, I suppose." He turned over their hands, smiling fondly as he traced over the calluses that marked Anakin's dedication, frowning at the cuts and scabs that testified to his sacrifices; Obi-Wan had been witness to them all. "Yes, we have lived a life together, as Master and Padawan, as warriors, partners, brothers, and the very best of friends, but for all that...for all that, I...I don't know how to...to be with you."

He inhaled deeply and tilted his head back, closing his eyes, trying to restrain the edge of hysteria that had crept into his voice. "I don't know how I am supposed to reconcile that this need I have, that goes far beyond simple attachment, isn't somehow a reflection of my weakness. It terrifies me, to open myself to another without reservation, to put so much faith in someone other than myself, and ignore a lifetime of being taught that I shouldn't." Averting his eyes, Obi-Wan tugged at Anakin's hands, pulling him up on his knees. He laced his fingers with Anakin's tightly, noting how easily they fit together, a small gesture that mirrored the strength and solidarity of his relationship with Anakin. Obi-Wan finally lifted his head, and with a squeeze of his hands, looked Anakin straight in the eye. "But it terrifies me more, to know...to know that I can't be...without you."

"Then don't be," Anakin whispered gently, "you don't have to be." With a quick kiss to one of his Master's hands, he let it go, pushing up from his knees to stand. He reached down, dragging a finger lazily across Obi-Wan's brow, brushing away that same stubborn lock that always fell in his Master's eyes. Anakin tugged at the other hand, wanting Obi-Wan to look at him. "You are not weak, and you are not a coward. You are a Jedi Master and a General of the Republic, the bravest, strongest, most honorable man I know, and a credit to an Order that takes you for granted."

Obi-Wan started to shake his head, protesting. "Oh, Anakin, that's not—"

"Shhh. It's my turn," Anakin interrupted softly, settling himself on the bunk, careful to avoid jostling Obi-Wan in any way. "It is true. So maybe...maybe you haven't always followed the 'Traditional Jedi Way'," he said with only the slightest hint of a smirk, "but neither have I, and maybe that's what makes us so good together. Maybe that's what Qui-Gon wanted, I don't know."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips. "Yes, well, he was always very cryptic. And not very traditional, either, I suppose..."

"Shhh." Anakin laid two fingers over Obi-Wan's mouth. "Still my turn," he asserted in response to that infamous arched eyebrow. When convinced of his Master's cooperation, he trailed his fingers down over the patch of whiskers just below Obi-Wan's lip, remembering just how they felt against his lips, soft and rough at the same time. Anakin licked his lips and cupped Obi-Wan's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking over the faint dirty smudges still evident on his Master's cheeks. "If it's needing to be with me that feels like a weakness, then let me...let me show you, Master. Obi-Wan. Let me show you how much being together makes us stronger," he murmured, soft and silky as he lowered his mouth to meet with Obi-Wan's in another tentative caress.

The kiss was brief, just another brush of lip against lip, but this time, as Anakin started to pull back, Obi-Wan found he didn't want it to stop, all he wanted was more, to have more, to feel more. Eyes closed, his lips sought out Anakin's once again, capturing them awkwardly until he parted his lips just enough for Anakin's to join with his full on. He didn't know if it was his lips or Anakin's that were chapped—maybe they both were—but it didn't matter, because nothing had ever felt so soft against his. Or so right.

Anakin shuddered at the contact and snaked a hand up into Obi-Wan's hair, working his fingers through the damp strands. Obi-Wan smelled of scored carbon and musty Shyleran dust and days spent in the same tunics and Anakin didn't care because it was familiar. It was Obi-Wan, it was him...it was them, together, right now. Anakin groaned softly and opened his mouth further, his fingers tightening their hold in Obi-Wan's hair, when he felt their tongues touch for the first time.

As Anakin's tongue slid warm and wet into his mouth, an involuntary shiver ran hot and cold through Obi-Wan. His fingers dug ruthlessly into the blanket on the bunk, a muffled moan sounding deep within him from the sensation of Anakin's slick tongue languidly lapping at the roof of his mouth. Overcome with a hunger he hardly recognized in himself, Obi-Wan cupped his hand behind Anakin's head, holding him closer still as he swirled his tongue around and past Anakin's, demanding to taste Anakin as he'd been tasted.

Anakin reveled in the ardor of Obi-Wan's kiss, happily surrendering himself to it. He had wanted this, needed this, for so long, wanted to know that he wasn't alone, that he wouldn't be alone, to show Obi-Wan what he meant to him, to know that he meantsomething to Obi-Wan. Spurred on by this need, he released Obi-Wan's lips only long enough to change the angle, finding that Obi-Wan now met him more than half-way, their breaths commingling in the briefest of moments between increasingly urgent, messy, demanding kisses.

Despite the reciprocation, despite the desire that hung cloying and oppressive in the air around them, Anakin forced himself to slow down, stroking at the fine hairs along Obi-Wan's jaw. He drew the kiss out a little longer, sucking Obi-Wan's bottom lip between his before pulling back reluctantly. His eyes followed the trail of his fingertips down his Master's face, over his collarbone, coming to rest against his chest. Trying to catch his breath, he looked up at Obi-Wan, a shy, nervous smile touching his lips.

"Do you...do you see...can you feel it?" he asked hesitantly, shaking even as he felt the connection between them strengthen and solidify as never before. Anakin loved Obi-Wan with all he had, but if he couldn't feel it, or wouldn't, or if it wasn't enough... Anakin knew a part of him would die trying to accept it, but he would do it, for Obi-Wan. "M-Master?"

When Obi-Wan met Anakin's eyes, his breath caught in his chest at the need and hope he saw there. Wordlessly, he lifted a shaky hand to cover Anakin's, pressing both against his chest, just above the bruise the slug had left behind. His heart thrummed under their joined hands, beating wildly as he tried to reclaim some semblance of control over the emotions, the raw need that churned within him. He had spoken the truth to Anakin: he didn't want to need him. But Obi-Wan could no longer deny that he not only needed Anakin, he wanted Anakin. He never wanted to know a life without Anakin. Somehow, inexplicably, it felt right, it felt natural, it felt wild and unrestrained and that was Anakin. Most of all, it felt safe. And that was Anakin, too.

With a quiet breath, Obi-Wan blinked slowly, nodding as an anxious smile broke out upon his lips, a hushed, reverent "yes," all he could manage right then as he opened himself fully to the Force, and, finally, to Anakin. He felt their bond shift and intensify, the frayed strands of discord dissolving, their renewed understanding, trust, and commitment to each other empowering Obi-Wan to a level of wholeness he had never known he had been lacking. When he heard Anakin gasp, he understood Anakin had felt it, too. "You...you were right," he breathed in astonishment, his smile broadening at the equally astonished look on Anakin's face. "But it's...it's not just strength, it's more than that...as if..."

"I know, I know," Anakin panted, his eyes wide and wild as the feeling swelled over and through him. "I feel it, too, like we're, I don't know, like we're..."

"One," they said in unison, staring at each other as the word reverberated in the silence that followed.

Obi-Wan caught the apprehensive look that suddenly haunted Anakin's face and reached out to him. "Anakin?" he asked; he knew that look. It was the one Anakin had adopted not long after he'd arrived at the Temple, one that masked his hurt or fear from taunting peers, stern Jedi instructors, and he thought, his Master. It had never fooled Obi-Wan. Probably because Obi-Wan had long-ago perfected the technique himself.

Anakin tentatively ran a finger over a triad of freckles on Obi-Wan's forearm before answering, his voice deceptively calm. "Are you...are you okay with that?"

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in surprise at the question. "I hardly think that is an issue up for debate anymore, is it?"

"That's not an answer, Obi-Wan." Anakin smiled sadly. "Please, I need to know. Because if you're not, if you're going to pull away again, or, or—" He shook his head, not wanting to give voice to the crippling fears taking hold in his heart at the thought of coming this far only to lose Obi-Wan in the end.

"Or change my mind?" Obi-Wan sighed and pressed his hand to his mouth, understanding. "I don't think I could, Anakin, because I'd first have to change my heart." He smiled fondly at the grateful look Anakin gave him then, emboldened by the strength and depth of their connection, wanting to assure him of his resolve. "I need you, Anakin. This feeling, this, this...oneness...yes, it does frighten me, it's unlike anything I've ever experienced, and...I don't want to stop feeling it." His eyes never leaving Anakin's, he lay one hand on the bunk, the other on Anakin's waist as he began to lie back, pulling the other man along with him. "I need you."

Anakin compliantly followed, wanting so much to believe this was finally happening, not some fevered dream or Sith-forsaken hallucination. "Are you sure?" he whispered, needing that assurance one more time.

Obi-Wan nodded, pushing up on one elbow to press a chaste kiss to Anakin's forehead. "Please," he whispered against Anakin's skin even as he lowered himself to the mattress, Anakin pressing his hands to either side of Obi-Wan's shoulders, his taut body hovering over Obi-Wan's. "I need you...I need to feel you. Here, now. Please."

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into a slow kiss, opening his mouth to once again taste him, to feel the completeness in such a simple action. His hands wandered over Anakin's strong back, mindful of every abrasion he knew was there, knowing just where and when each scar that passed under his fingers had been earned. Reaching Anakin's waist, he skated his exploring hands around to trace over the ridges of muscle that outlined the younger man's abdomen. Anakin twitched from the sensation, finally gasping against Obi-Wan's mouth.

Obi-Wan looked apologetic, recalling the blow Anakin had taken just below his ribs. "Sore?" he asked, opening his hand to press soft and warm against Anakin's side.

"Mmmm." Anakin shook his unruly hair and bent closer, working his lips up through the line of soft whiskers along Obi-Wan's jaw to his ear . "Tickles," he mumbled there, before pulling back with a boyish grin.

Obi-Wan bit his lip, reaching up to brush back the shroud of curls that had fallen around Anakin's face. His fingers passed over the tacky ridge the bacta had made on Anakin's scalp and he frowned thoughtfully, reminded of the fear he'd had for Anakin back on Shylera, and the fallout it had caused.

Anakin nudged his forehead into Obi-Wan's open palm. "It's okay, it's only a cut, remember?"

Obi-Wan sighed and nodded, turning his head to kiss the inside of Anakin's wrist as his hands gently left Anakin's hair, palming his broad shoulders, feeling the latent strength in the straining arms that held the other man aloft. With fascination, he followed his thumbs over the curve of Anakin's biceps, then down along the bluish veins jutting out from his forearms, openly admiring Anakin's physicality. He passed his hands up the backsides of Anakin's arms, over roughened elbows and the gritty remnants of old bacta patches that had long since fallen off, until he reached Anakin's shoulders again, flushing slightly when he realized Anakin had been watching him. "I'm...I'm sorry," he apologized, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

"For what?" Anakin smiled, lifting one corner of his mouth. "There aren't any rules here, Obi-Wan. You can do whatever you want," he said softly, nuzzling his nose alongside Obi-Wan's. "Don't be sorry." He brought his lips against Obi-Wan's, opening his mouth to trace a quick vertical stripe across the seam with a flick of his tongue. "I like it," he growled playfully, smirking against Obi-Wan's mouth. "In fact, I think you should do it some more."

Obi-Wan flushed a deeper red, his heart racing in his chest once more. "I...I see. And...and what, encourage your vanity?" he retorted in a stuttered mumble against Anakin's mouth, swatting at his shoulders with little result. He managed to raise a mockingly disdainful eyebrow. "I d-doubt your ego needs any more stroking."

Anakin raised his own brows and laughed, pulling back just a little. "Maybe not. But you know..." He regarded his Master mischievously, then dove down to press his mouth to Obi-Wan's ear. "There's other parts of me that need stroking, Master," he drawled, grazing his teeth against the lobe.

Flinching away from the fiercely ticklish sensation on his ear, Obi-Wan gasped, wide-eyed, at the blatant proposition. "S-So...uncivilized," he stammered over Anakin's shoulder, even as his arms encircled Anakin's waist to draw him closer.

Anakin chuckled softly as he came down on his elbows, body still hovering over Obi-Wan's. "You like it," he boasted, lifting Obi-Wan's bangs off his forehead. He ran his thumb over the brownish streak of blood still there, and bowing down to kiss it. "You're a mess, you know that?" he said, tracing his thumbs over Obi-Wan's eyebrows, leaning in to leave another soft kiss.

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered shut at the touch. "You are hardly in a position to judge," he scoffed, blindly reaching up to sink his hands into the younger man's matted hair. "I think perhaps one of those Shyleran reptavians could take up residence in here, and you'd never know."

"Oh yeah? You'd better check your beard, then, because I'm pretty sure something's made a nest in there," Anakin teased, rifling his fingers through Obi-Wan's whiskers. "What's this, a twig? And a piece of grass? Oh, and looky here, it's either a chunk of chocolate, or a chunk of mud." He flicked the debris away with a touch of the Force. "Either way, pretty...uncivilized, Master, wouldn't you say?"

"Hmm." Obi-Wan made a face, scowling as he rubbed at his own chin. "I do recall ordering you, at some point, to find a shower. As always, your interpretation of an order is..."

"Creative. Inventive. Imaginative," Anakin offered, mouthing the words against Obi-Wan's collarbone. "But, if you insist," he lifted his head, feigning a move to get up. "I can go find a fresher, if I'm just too, you know..." He mustered as innocent of a look as possible. "...uncivilized."

"You most certainly are," Obi-Wan agreed, distracted by the movement of Anakin's lips as he formed the words, feeling the heat swell again within him when that voice, low with just a lilt of a tease, sounded in his ears. He didn't know how Anakin did that, how seemingly innocent words became salacious innuendo when they came out of his mouth. He licked his lips and watched Anakin do the same, fueling his need, making his desire burn hotter still. He wanted more of it. More of Anakin.

"But I have been told I like you uncivilized, and you," he growled possessively and reached between them, urging one of Anakin's legs over him to the other side of the bunk, "are in no way going anywhere." He cupped his hand behind Anakin's head, gently pulling him downward. "Come here," he entreated softly. "You're too far away. I want to...I need to...feel you. Closer."

Anakin's breath quickened. "I...I think that's an order I can follow," he agreed, bringing his mouth to Obi-Wan's as he closed the gap between them. Just as his body made contact with his Master's, he pulled out of the kiss with a gasp, arms shaking in protest from their prolonged effort. Panting, he flashed his eyes down to Obi-Wan's side worriedly. "Your hip?"

With a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan lurched up to kiss Anakin again, with a quick mumble of "I don't care," against his lips, trying to coax Anakin back downward with him. He didn't care if it burned like the fires of Mustafar, he couldn't tolerate the distance between them any longer.

Still reluctant, Anakin's brow furrowed. He ached to be closer to Obi-Wan, to feel the strong, unrelenting firmness of his Master's body pressed against his own, but... "I...I don't want to hurt you. Are you sure?"

Smiling, Obi-Wan nodded encouragingly. "Stop worrying. I'll be fine." As Anakin hesitantly lowered his hips to straddle him, Obi-Wan slid his hands up from the younger man's hips, around his waist, and across his back, hands splayed to feel as much of Anakin's skin as possible. "So soft," he marveled under his breath, smiling at the surprisingly shy glance Anakin gave him. "And warm," he whispered, "always so warm."

"You know what they say, something about boys and deserts and...and...whatever," Anakin gave up with a quiet moan, arching back a little into Obi-Wan's strong hands. He was careful not to rest all his weight on Obi-Wan, letting his knees sink deeply into the mattress even as his thighs clenched around Obi-Wan's. For the first time, he allowed his eyes to roam freely, appreciatively, over the figure laid out before him. He had seen Obi-Wan many times, seen him, touched him, he knew this man's body expertly.

But not like this. This wasn't looking for damages, for injuries to be treated and healed, for imperfections. This was different, this was intimate and personal and allowed, and Anakin saw only perfection in those imperfections. As he wove his hands though the fine line of hairs that ran up from the indent of Obi-Wan's navel, he marveled at the solid feel of toned muscle and smooth white skin that defined his Master's body. Reaching the slug bruise, he bent forward, bringing his lips to chastely kiss the mark, smiling up from under his curls when he felt Obi-Wan shiver beneath him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan breathed softly, melting into the heat and pleasure of Anakin's touches. Here, now, there was no need for bacta or bandages. Here there was only Anakin, and Anakin, Obi-Wan now understood, was all that he had ever needed. With a press of his hands, he guided Anakin's body down more fully upon his, desperate to feel the heavy weight, the acute presence, of Anakin there with him, on him, all around him. Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a shuddering breath, savoring the powerful sensation of arousal rushing to his groin from the contact. Keeping a hand low on Anakin's back, Obi-Wan tangled the other in his hair, bringing Anakin's head to rest on his shoulder. As he toyed with the curls, he drew random patterns on the small of Anakin's back, his fingertips dipping just below the waistband to pet at the velvety patch of hair at the base of Anakin's spine.

Obi-Wan's touches were like an electric charge to Anakin, sizzling through him like the lightning of a Yavinese thunderstorm. They made his nerves sing, his skin flush, his heart pound, and he never wanted Obi-Wan to stop. With a low rumble, he arched into the touch so tantalizingly low on his back, nuzzling his way into the crook of Obi-Wan's neck. Anakin indulged in Obi-Wan's familiar scent, one that reminded him of comfort, acceptance, home. One that was now thoroughly dominated by the powerful, heady flavors of masculinity, sweat, desire. The arousing scent shot straight to his cock and Anakin felt himself harden, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply again, drinking it in. With renewed vigor, he planted a line of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses up Obi-Wan's neck, under his chin, pausing to hover just above his ready mouth. "Kriff," he swore with a lusty reverence, eyes roving over his Master's face, taking in the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the parted lips.

"Wh-what?" Breathing heavily, Obi-Wan found his attention diverted by the maddeningly slow crawl of a bead of sweat along Anakin's temple, imagining what it would taste like, to brazenly lick it right off his face. His breath caught and he blinked hard, unconsciously pressing his lips together firmly at such a licentious thought. Focus slowly returning, Obi-Wan dragged a deliberate thumb down over Anakin's reddened, swollen lower lip. "What is it?"

Anakin flicked at the digit with his tongue, drawing it into his mouth until he released it with a soft pop, his desire only further provoked by the tiny, surprised gasp that came from the man beneath him. He groaned with want, mesmerized by the constantly changing colors of his Master's eyes, the way the pupils dilated and contracted. "You're so...so...I want to...I have to kiss you again, Obi-Wan," Anakin confessed, his wide passion-filled eyes searching Obi-Wan's for permission. "Please."

The way Anakin had looked at him just now...it was tender, it was needy...it was feral, Obi-Wan recognized with an unrestrained shiver of excitement. "S-since when do you ask permission for anything?" he rasped, his mouth having gone dry, strangling the words somewhere in his throat. Surging forward, he raked his fingers up under the hair on Anakin's neck and met his mouth hungrily, tongue delving deep as he tugged Anakin back down with him.

The kiss was ferocious this time, messy and hot, each one nipping and biting at swollen lips while hands roamed possessively over dusty cheekbones and fingers snagged in tangled hair. Both caught up in the heated momentum, Anakin shifted slightly and Obi-Wan clutched urgently at his waist, bringing Anakin's weight to bear on his hip. Wide-eyed, Obi-Wan sounded a guttural moan against Anakin's lips, shunting aside the hot flicker of pain in favor of the knowledge that it was Anakin's erection, hard and unyielding, pressing against his side. Ignoring the burn, he arched up involuntarily, canting his hips just enough to press hard against Anakin, squeezing his eyes shut from the overwhelming sensation.

Anakin grunted in surprise, relishing the answering pressure against his cock, until the realization hit him and with an anguished cry, forced himself to break away. "S-sorry, M-Master..." he panted with alarm, quickly lifting his hips back and up, his body quivering from the effort. An apologetic, guilt-ridden expression darkened his face as he ran a trembling hand down Obi-Wan's side. "Don't..don't want to h-hurt you."

Obi-Wan shook his head, capturing Anakin's hand, trying to draw him back down. "You're...you're not," he insisted, even as his inflamed hip made his breaths come in short bursts. He wanted this, wanted Anakin, so much, and he didn't want to stop, not for some irritatingly inconvenient injury. Obi-Wan cursed himself, his hip, the wretched war, the entirety of the Republic, even the Force itself, for the interruption. Because if he were honest with himself, he knew that somewhere inside him still lurked that blasted true Jedi shouting at him to honor the Code, and if given the chance to stop, he very well might. That was not something he was willing to risk; for once, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not about to let himself get in his own way. "Come here, I'm fine," he cajoled, tugging at Anakin, until they were face-to-face again.

Anakin shook his head knowingly, completely unconvinced by his Master's attempts at bravado. "Liar," he chastised, hot and soft against Obi-Wan's cheek. He shifted his legs and brought one of his Master's thighs between his, sliding a knee up to settle lightly against Obi-Wan's cock, letting the bulk of his weight descend slowly upon his Master's other hip. Raising an eyebrow, he flashed a naughty grin. "Better?" he asked, nibbling and biting his way down Obi-Wan's neck.

Obi-Wan pulled at the crook of Anakin's knee so that it dug in harder, increasing the friction with a slow rock of his hips. "Yes...much...ahh..." he moaned, as Anakin's mouth reached a nipple, lapping a wet tongue back and forth over it before drawing it between his lips. Mouth agape, Obi-Wan threw his head back, his hands scrabbling across the taut skin of Anakin's back, over the sharp angles of jutting shoulder blades and the smooth contours of flexing muscles. Daring a glance down, he bit back another moan as he watched Anakin's mouth on him, sucking, licking, finally crying out at the teasing bite.

Smiling against the warm, moist skin, Anakin blew a cool breath over the sensitive nub, pleased at the answering shiver from the man beneath him. He committed every reaction, each sigh and gasp and moan, to memory, completely enthralled and amazed by the fact that he was the one responsible for it. He was the one allowed to touch, kiss, love Obi-Wan, no one else. It was powerful, and it was humbling. Anakin nuzzled his way through the faintly auburn thatch of hair on Obi-Wan's chest, glancing up questioningly when Obi-Wan called his name softly. "Everything okay?"

Taking hold of his waist, Obi-Wan slid Anakin off him, on to his back, and carefully rolled himself on his right side, hitching himself close enough to press the length of his body alongside Anakin's. "Stop worrying. You're worse than a crèchemaster, I swear," Obi-Wan admonished softly. Propped up on an elbow, he watched, silent, as his fingertip traced the path of that impossibly roguish scar that crossed over Anakin's eye. Cupping his hand just behind the younger man's ear, Obi-Wan drew him into soft but no less demanding kiss, thoroughly exploring every corner of Anakin's mouth before releasing him with a harsh, ragged breath.

"Master," Anakin whined softly, reaching out for Obi-Wan, clawing to bring him back, hungry for more. More of that. With Obi-Wan. Right now. "Don't...don't stop...more," he begged against Obi-Wan's mouth as he found it once again.

"So demanding," Obi-Wan growled into the kiss, biting and nipping at Anakin's lips from the ferocity of the need and desire continuing to build between them. Lungs searing from the lack of oxygen, pulse pounding a driving, lust-laden rhythm in his ears, he grabbed a handful of Anakin's curls, gasping for breath when Anakin responded in kind, yanking hard at Obi-Wan's hair to bring him closer, tongues sliding, teeth scraping, both fighting to control it, both losing themselves to it.

As they broke apart, both breathless and panting, Obi-Wan found himself taken aback by the raw intensity they had brought to a single kiss, a bolt of pure wonder and trepidation coursing through him in time to the staccato beat of his heart, threatening to burst out of his chest. It was still so new, so...incomprehensible, what was actually happening between them. Right here, right now.

Obi-Wan stole a long look at Anakin, his former Padawan, his partner, best friend...now...lover?, with his brilliant blue eyes that could steal your soul and halo of untamed curls that captured the light in such a way that gave Anakin the ethereal glow of an avenging angel on the battlefield. It stunned him, awed him, really, to believe that this man, a man he had known most of his life, a man he had admired and respected and—Obi-Wan could finally admit this to himself—loved for so long, was...his.

A deep, indescribable yearning rose up within Obi-Wan when he took in the sight in front of him, from the ripple of straining abdominal muscles, to the outline of a defined chest heaving for breaths, over the curve of wet shiny lips. Lips that curled from a curious smile into a downright smirk, Obi-Wan blanched inwardly, obviously having taken notice of his Master's less than discreet appraisal of him.

Anakin wasn't blind to his appeal; he was used to the stares of other beings, and he had to admit it had its advantages and he'd probably used every last one of them, but this wasn't some Hapan princess or tribal chieftain to be charmed out of vital information with a carefully placed wink and a pout. This was Obi-Wan. This mattered. To have Obi-Wan look at him like that... Anakin sucked in his bottom lip, ducking his head modestly under the intense scrutiny. "See something you like there?" he asked huskily through a thick veil of dark lashes.

Reddening and swallowing hard, rendered speechless yet again by that tone of Anakin's, so kriffing suggestive it should be outlawed, Obi-Wan nodded mutely, hesitantly fingering a lock of hair before tucking behind Anakin's ear. "I want...to look...at you, Anakin," he confessed, as he used two fingers to push him back down on to the mattress. Licking his lips, Obi-Wan caressed Anakin's cheek affectionately, brushing back and forth over the familiar birthmark there, unable to draw his eyes away from the other man's face. "Will you...will you allow me that?"