darkforcerising | OPEN POST

He meant the awkwardness. He wished that, rather than the other ...whatever it was - ease? Comfort? ...need? -thing.

"I know. And I'm glad you to want to stay. Now keep drinking until we're back to a point where we're both comfortable collapsed on the floor and in tears."

Maybe, actually, this was some strange diversion. Being unable to cope with what happened today. Finding something minor to pull at.

Anakin laughed and poured them another drink.

"It all makes sense now," he said. Then threw back the drink. "If that's your definition of comfortable, I can see why just talking here is very strange."

"The problem isn't talking, Anakin, it's saying anything that matters."

Truer words he had probably never spoken about himself, but this was his ... fourth drink to Anakin's second and he was, at least, finally feeling some effect. Nothing terribly strong - he could drink - but enough to have him relaxing and to feel warmth.

"I meant it when I said you didn't need to be responsible for... safe-guarding my sanity, I suppose." What he means is 'turning into everything he has sworn to fight', but even now those words weren't ones he wants to give voice to. "You have enough of your plate. I could feel Vader's memories trying to surface while you were interacting with the Inquisitor. I can only imagine how hard that was."

Well, if that wasn’t sobering...

Anakin looked down at his glass because it was something not Obi-Wan’s earnest face to look at. He shouldn’t feel ashamed for that. As much as Obi-Wan couldn’t help recalling memories from Mustafar, Anakin couldn’t help his own brain from bringing up his past. And yet... he was suddenly not all right.

“Sometimes...” he started, and then tried to shrug it off. “Sometime helping someone you care about helps you with your own problems.”

The thought of how easily Obi-Wan had felt him slip, if even just a little had him pouring another drink.

His shields were breaking down, he realized. Alcohol? Exhaustion? Trauma? Some combination of them all, likely, but while he was usually aware enough - especially of Anakin - it didn't usually feel as direct as it did just then.

"Yes, and sometimes someone who cares about you needs to keep forcing you to acknowledge what you would rather not, if only so they can repeatedly remind you that you are more than that." A tiny pause, because he did realize he was hurting Anakin, but also that the one thing Anakin needed to believe was the one thing he couldn't stand to hear. He'd said it once, tried more than that in other ways, but.

He set his glass aside and pushed up to sit on the edge of the counter, still incredibly close. "Anakin.... Vader's memories existing within you horrify me, but they horrify me because you are not Vader and no innocent person should be subjected to that ...torture. You lived and you died and are every bit as... new and bright as the blade of your saber. Let. Me. Help. You."

“I’m not...” Anakin choked on the words. Shaking his head. He wasn’t innocent.

He needed to hear someone say it exactly like that. He’d been living that second life, had made stupid, average mistakes. But he’d never even provoke a fist fight, or been in one, and then he got memories of committing murder, massacres, eventually genocide. That hadn’t been him.

He blinked and realized it was his turn to cry.

He leaned towards Obi-Wan, a hand reaching up to pull the other man close so their foreheads touched. “Take it to mean I know what to look for to keep you you.”

Sitting on the counter as he was, he had to change his position a bit to make room for Anakin to step in between his knees to be able to reach him, but it wasn't as though that were a hardship.

He left one hand resting open on the counter, and wrapped the other around the back of Anakin's neck. He kept his eyes open. He was fascinated by the color in Anakin's eyes from this close.

"Yes." Simple agreement. "So long as you take me letting you to mean I know that I couldn't be afraid of you if I tried." Training inspired flashbacks not withstanding. Because that wasn't Anakin.

"Fine!" Anakin said, defiantly, grinning. Because if he had to give, it wouldn't be without letting it be known it was his choice. Not something taken from him.

But then he paused, because this was the part where he should move away. Pour them another drink maybe. Make a joke. Do something other than stare back at Obi-Wan, vaguely aware of his heart rate increasing or that his fingers were moving to play with the hair at the nape of Obi-Wan's neck or that he was standing between Obi-Wan's legs or...

Instead, he licked his lips, tasting alcohol and a sudden longing... and glanced down at Obi-Wan's, like that mattered.

There were so many things there that should have made what he wanted - and Anakin wanted - obvious. Signals stacked on top of signals and he might have been able to miss them all, if not for Anakin's hand moving to his neck.

The slide of Anakin's fingers against skin as they played with his hair, right over his spine, however got such a response from him that there was no missing exactly what was going on. It was intimate. It was vulnerable. It turned trust into something physical. His reaction was fairly subtle, because he was himself, but it wasn't tentative.

His chin dropped a bit, which arched his neck up and into Anakin's hand with a very, very faint shudder and put him at exactly the right angle to move his hand to hold Anakin's jaw and kiss him.

Softly, but not tentatively and not even remotely chastely.

It was amazing how it had taken this final puzzle piece for the picture to become clear. Especially given Anakin’s past relationships. He’d been so wrapped up in not wanting to hurt Obi-Wan more that he hadn’t seen the orbit they’d landed in. Two stars finding each other.

Everything made a lot more sense now. And he responded with complete understanding, deepening the kiss, physically asking for more.

He had enough sense to place his glass on the counter before moving his other hand to Obi-Wan’s back to pull him in closer, so more of each other could touch.

After all the awkwardness, the fumbling, the tears and the trauma, he should have been surprised by the... confidence and clarity of Anakin's response.

He wasn't, in the least.

Anakin asked for more and he got it. Obi-Wan responded easily and immediately to Anakin deepening the kiss, with a fleeting thought about Anakin and whiskey being an ideal pairing. The light pressure on his back and he moved forward and hooked his ankles around Anakin's knees to not only bring them closer, but to keep them there. He reached up and fisted his free hand firmly in the back of Anakin's tunic for the same reason.

Mostly, though, he... let go a little. Let barely recognized desire turn into a wave of want, and if it was more banked warmth than heat, it was because he was being careful with Anakin.

It didn't stop a very, very soft groan from escaping his throat.

Falling into place was the right descriptor. They had, and the way he wrapped around Anakin was a clear indicator that he was not going to let go easily.

Edited 2020-01-15 18:32 (UTC)

Anakin was surprised by Obi-Wan’s response, the man renowned for reservation and poise. Him giving even a little was in comparison to previous behavior was actually quite a lot. Even just that much, even that soft a groan was a language Anakin spoke fluently, even if the words were now being spun in new, never before used sentences.

Anakin’s answer was a breathless gasp, barely a pause before continuing.

Surprised but not halted, the withdrawn defenses pooled desire in Anakin’s core.

Wanting more, but knowing pushing wouldn’t get him more, Anakin dropped any mental barriers he’d set up in the Force, an invitation to let Obi-Wan feel everything inside him if he wanted, at his pace. Because they could do this forever or a second, whichever Obi-Wan preferred.

He had already noticed his own defenses were... not at their best. He had already been trying to pay very close attention - not just here, in this, but before. Because of the battle, because of his concern, and because of wanting to be careful with Anakin.

The result of Anakin dropping all his mental barriers between them was him falling into Anakin.

Which meant, in practice, he fell into Anakin's desire - the surprise and patience and that it was an offer, not a demand, that was being made were things he aware of, but Anakin letting him in that deeply, as well as feeling Anakin's desire that directly....

It took 'warmth' from banked fires and flew gasoline on them. It was perfect, it was beautiful, it was so wholly and completely Anakin (literally) and it was completely overwhelming.

He tightened the grip of his hand on Anakin's back, and his legs around Anakin's. There was no fear there, no desire to stop and he was making physically very sure Anakin couldn't step back, even as he wrenched out of the kiss.

Because he broke it only so he could nip sharply at Anakin's jaw and take a second to catch his breath. Which amounted to all but panting against Anakin's neck. If he were less reserved he would have been clawing at Anakin.

"A little warning next time, maybe?" his voice and mind both carrying good humor right along with with arousal.

“I’m sorry,” he said, he wasn’t, though. He was grinning as he apologized. He liked the feeling of Obi-Wan pressed against him, physically and in the Force. Breathless, in Obi-Wan’s ear, “I forget how loud I am sometimes.”

But he could go slow, he could stay here while Obi-Wan acclimated. That didn’t mean he stopped, he just found new ground to cover. Like this spot below Obi-Wan’s ear... the side of his neck... only to be frustrated by the collar of his tunic.

"Not loud," he murmured, "vivid."

He didn't quite regain his breath so much as recover some balance, but that was good enough, thank you very much.

He wasn't in the least uncertain or hesitant in tilting his head to give Anakin's mouth better access to his throat, or moving his hands down to the hem of Anakin's tunic and pushing upward, palms sliding over skin with just the slightest drag of callouses, because he wanted it off and out of their way. Because he just wanted more skin.

What was uncertain and hesitant was him pulling what was left of his own mental defenses down and out of the way. The reasoning was the same as Anakin's - the less between them the better - but that one scared him just a little. Open was not something he usually was. He wanted to be here, but it wasn't the easiest thing in the world for him.

Fortunately he had desire and Anakin's skin under his hand and Anakin's mouth on him to provide both distraction and motivation.

Anakin knew that in these matters you invited, offered, asked, never demanded. Everything was more enjoyable when everyone was comfortable. Which isn’t to say there wouldn’t be awkward moments, those two concepts were not mutually exclusive. He just knew how to accept what was offered, even if he what he offered in return was more.

Greed was a different property altogether in this, creating an inverse affect: the more that he gave the more he was satisfied.

He both wanted Obi-Wan’s hand to explore more, but he hesitated, he let Obi-Wan feel it. And then he mentally encouraged Obi-Wan to keep going, because his hands would eventually find the scars on his back and side from the jet crash. He stopped kissing Obi-Wan’s neck and rested his head against the side of Obi-Wan’s, letting this moment of vulnerability happen, because it needed to happen.

Obi-Wan wasn't entirely inexperienced. It might have been better if he had been, since he wouldn't have also had the experience of that kind of loss, and it wasn't like there was enough experience there to really rely on.

It didn't actually matter much. He was mostly relying on his trust in Anakin and, at least thus far, it was working just fine.

The trust and courage - real courage, the kind that mattered, not the loud kind made up of ego and display - displayed in Anakin choosing vulnerability was breathtakingly beautiful.

His trust in Anakin wasn't displayed nearly so obviously, but he trusted his encouragement to continue, and with a brush of nothing but warmth and wordless reassurance he did. Slower, and more carefully, but he continued. When he found scar tissue instead of smooth skin, he got gentler but no more flinched away from that than Anakin's prosthetic hand at his back. There was something a little reverent in how he mapped the dimensions and lines and spaces of the scars, and worked them into the mental - and tactile - map he was making of Anakin.

Then he finished peeling Anakin's tunic off, with that same slow, careful, deliberateness.

His new state of undress sent shivers up his arms and back, and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room, which was actually fine. Maybe it could even be a few degrees cooler given how hot he actually felt. It was the kind of fever that drove him to want to get closer to Obi-Wan, burn faster and hotter, because it wouldn’t go away until it consumed them.

He found Obi-Wan’s mouth again, kissing slowly, still moving at the pace Obi-Wan set.

But his hands moved down now to Obi-Wan’s shirt, seeking to discard it like his had been.

He can tell, when Anakin returns to the kiss, that he is going to be slow because Obi-Wan was. He could also feel the heat both in Anakin's skin and his mind.

It fed into his own and made him want to give Anakin more.

So he gave Anakin more - more intensity, more focus on what Anakin felt and tasted like, more carefully used sharp edges of his teeth, more depth, more of his hands on Anakin's skin, though still gentle and light and somehow so, so, deliberate and careful.

The hands moving down, looking for the hem actually is what got another soft groan out of him - or maybe it was the clear desire for Anakin to reach skin - and he arched, strongly but slowly, back into his hands.

He didn't so much wordlessly grant permission as there was a very clear, very inexplicably given the situation, polite please.

He recognized this sensation. Would he call it an echo of himself coming back in the Force from Obi-Wan’s perception? The echo had been quite handy in previous experiences, but he’d never been able to share it before. He gave it back, letting Obi-Wan feel at the same time he did the way Obi-Wan’s fingers traced shivers across his back and how each pass thrilled him.

What got a moan from Anakin, though, was that ‘please’, that fucking please! Of course the bloody man would be polite as he asked Anakin to remove his shirt while they were fast driving off the cliffs of dignity. It made Anakin want to rip it off. He twisted his fingers in the fabric to rein in the desire to go into wild abandon.

But he did take that shirt off, and throw it away like it had offended him. And when he kissed Obi-Wan again, there was clear restraint to his movements. Restraint for Obi-Wan’s sake, but the kind of self denial that was as delicious as much as it made him sweat.

Obi-Wan recognized, but only subconsciously, how much everything Anakin was doing was reinforcing trust. It was honestly, honestly, almost seductive in and of itself.

Anakin not just opening his mind to him, but showing him the impact Obi-Wan touching him had on him - what he liked, from the smaller touches to his response to a polite request - made it much easier for him to continue to trust in those responses and simply follow desire. He might have otherwise gotten completely tangled in details.

The biggest thing, though, the thing that really got to him and both turned his arousal much more physical and demanding, burned away reservations and hesitations lurking in the back of his mind, was the restraint.

He felt Anakin' s desire, but he also very clearly knew (saw, felt, could not deny or question) Anakin reigning himself in, for the sake of being careful with him. He'd already known Anakin was letting him set the pace but this was deeper than that. It wasn't just what Anakin was (or was not) doing, it was about who Anakin was.

Because he caught the reaction to the please, there was a trace of bright humor threading through want, and a thank you, but mostly? There was a soft, shuddering, groan as he sank back into the kiss, and skimmed his arms up along Anakin's back, over his shoulders and then down his arms - both arms, to his hands, then up again along the inside of his forearms until he could curl his hands around either side of Anakin's waist. The feel of hot skin, sweat, and the contrast to metal and back again resulted in nothing more difficult than a flicker of appreciation for the contrast in sensation.

He wanted more. Wasn't sure what more looked like yet, and was okay with that for the moment

Thank you! A fucking Thank you, after that polite request before? Anakin almost growled this time.

And he wondered where this was coming from. Restraint could only be strained so much... and then he realized, it was so fucking obvious, that that bloody fucking Core world etiquette was a bloody fucking aphrodisiac coming from Obi-Wan in this context, and because he’d already decided to match Obi-Wan’s pace, his outlet was a revving engine.

He paused, because he had to, forehead to Obi-Wan’s. He closed his eyes and breathed, because he had to.

He reached back and took hold of one of Obi-Wan’s hands and gently brought it forward. When he could do so, he threaded their fingers, his palm to the back of Obi-Wan’s hand and held up their hands, resting for a moment on his shoulder. But he waited. He opened his eyes, waited. Watched Obi-Wan’s eyes, waited.

Asked if it was okay, waited for that please.

He breathed with Anakin, in perfect synch. Because their minds had already entwined, it was easier even than it had been before. That the context was different really just meant it was a different, and much more pleasant, kind of intimacy.

If he ever got Anakin to growl, he'd probably count it as a victory.

Meanwhile, using what he'd found to tease was one thing, but he wasn't trying to push Anakin to the point of breaking, so - he breathed with him, evened it out himself until Anakin was ready to move again. Patiently waited, even with a flush of arousal.

Anakin's fingers threading through his from the back of his hand was actually strangely erotic, just in that act itself and the change from the usual direction.

He didn't understand where it was going, though.

Not until Anakin's eyes open and it became clear Anakin wasn't just looking at him - though he might have looked like Anakin like that forever - but waiting.

At that point some of the gentle confusion in his eyes cleared, replaced by understanding and heat. His pulse lurched and increased, his breath caught and he -

quirked one corner of his mouth up into a smile.

"Please." The verbal word echoed mentally, directly to Anakin.

If Anakin’s other arm hadn’t been holding onto Obi-Wan’s back, and Obi-Wan’s feet not locked around Anakin’s legs, his knees might have made standing a second priority when Obi-Wan spoke.

He did think maybe they should move to the bed, it might be safer. But then they’d have to separate and why do that?

Anakin didn’t mind.

But Obi-Wan deserved this.

He kissed Obi-Wan softly on the lips, once, briefly. And when he pulled away, he had a smile of his own. A smile he wanted Obi-Wan to see and feel as he brought Obi-Wan’s hand closer.

He started kissing the center of Obi-Wan’s palm. Tender reverent touches dragged slowly to the heel of his hand. Each kiss slightly lighter than the one before. When Anakin reaches the line separating palm from wrist, he didn’t hesitate - he did not kiss it - but moved his thumb to trace it while he let his mouth move down and brush the soft skin of Obi-Wan’s wrist.

It was that moment - that precise moment - when Anakin's mouth touched the inside of his wrist that Obi-Wan stopped being quite so content to live in the moment. The moment when this developed from something he enjoyed for the sake of the experience itself, to something with a destination.

Because Anakin was careful, gentle, slow there was no element of surprise and he wasn't thrown entirely out of control of himself with lust. That would, truthfully, probably have frightened him badly.

But his reaction, while... slow, was deep and it was intense. Not like catching fire, but like sliding into hot water.

He flushed hot, in a way that was visible. His pupils dilated. His eyelashes fluttered like he wanted to close his eyes, except he couldn't stop watching Anakin. He bit his lower lip around something that would have been a little louder than any sound he'd made so far, and his fingers curled loosely, shifting muscle and ligaments under Anakin's mouth. Tension came back into his body but a different kind of tension, and resulted in him pulling Anakin toward him.

They needed a bed. He wanted a bed.

Because that was the exact moment that it stopped being a pleasant make-out and bonding session that happened to turn him on, and started being sex.

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