darkforcerising | OPEN POST

All he could see from this close were Anakin's eyes, and he was just fine with that.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He wrapped one hand around Anakin's upper right arm, palm pressed over the ruined and scarred tattoo, angled his head up and caught his mouth in a kiss that was all focus and intensity but stayed slow and showed absolutely no sign of stopping until one or both of them ran out of air.

His other hand got busy getting Anakin out of his trousers. Deft, confident, easy, with force assistance helping make it easier to do one handed.

He was still completely dressed and had every intention of staying that way.

Anakin was satisfied with this answer and submitted to that kiss, finding the rhythm Obi-Wan set and matching it. Anakin surrendered to him, not getting in the way of Obi-Wan’s mission to divest him of clothing. The rush of passion guiding purpose swept him away in his lack of resistance. He was hard before his pants hit the floor.

But passivity was a difficult bench for him to rest on. His own hands did their own exploring, carding through Obi-Wan’s hair and slipping under his shirt. He just made sure to stay out of Obi-Wan’s way.

If Anakin went entirely passive, Obi-Wan was going to have to work much, much harder to keep his promise than he wanted. Hands in his hair, it turned out, was an amazing way of grounding him and building a ... gentler, more controlled, kind of arousal in him.

...and the prosthetic hand in his hair did something very peculiar to his heart - something about mutual trust and intimacy - that he didn't want to take too long to look at right now.

"Keep doing that," he murmured, as he pulled away from the kiss and started slowly working his way down Anakin's throat, pausing at his collarbone and dragging his teeth over it. A tiny pause, slight smirk against skin and, "Please."

Then moving right along, hands sliding over Anakin's ribs as he settled down to his knees.

Anakin’s vocal answer was a curse in Huttese. Honestly, Obi-Wan’s Core world manners pooled desire in Anakin as much as the man’s teeth dragging across his collar bone did. And Anakin would not change Obi-Wan for the universe.

It had taken Anakin more that a few time at this with Obi-Wan to unhesitatingly touch him with his prosthetic hand. Trust came so easily with other things, but not so much with his hand. This was not Obi-Wan’s fault, but the countless, little, everyday encounters with people’s prejudices that had taught Anakin to be guarded when it came to his arm.

But this - Obi-Wan’s open acceptance - no, it wasn’t just that, Obi-Wan liked the feel of his hand, was aroused by Anakin’s show of trust. What that certainly caused was a soft, begging moan, and Anakin gently curling his fingers against Obi-Wan’s scalp. He poured gratitude into the Force for Obi-Wan to take as he pleased.

He dropped his chin and rolled his spine upward toward and into Anakin's hand, pupils visibly dilating with a soft, but deep, groan. The sensation was a turn on. The trust from Anakin was a turn on. Knowing damn well that in this position if Anakin wanted he could seriously injure him, but also knowing he wasn't going to was a turn on.

His hands settle on Anakin's hips, thumbs stroking slowly as he nips and licks his way down Anakin's stomach to his cock, where Obi-Wan doesn't even hesitate. Flick of his tongue over his head, then simply takes Anakin in.

Somewhere along there - focus on Anakin, arousal, even the weight and taste of Anakin in his mouth, his presence in the force finally, if slowly, starts to brighten again.

Fuck, sex with the Force was amazing. The positive feedback of trust, arousal, trust -

Anakin's breath hitched and his hips thrust forward once - he tried to control it, it was almost an involuntary reaction to the feeling of heat from Obi-Wan's mouth, the gentle caress of his tongue on the tip of his cock, and Fuck, the way that man's facial hair tickled him... everywhere. He pressed his ass and head against the door, arching his back and straining his neck to hold himself still while Obi-Wan's mouth moved over him.

Knowing what power he had in his metal hand simply because of its design and make, he focused on digging the nails of his other hand into the door while letting his metal hand gently play with Obi-Wan's hair.

That brightening light, he drank it in, letting Obi-Wan feel what that only was doing to him. Stay with me, and there Obi-Wan was, with him.

"Never-" he breathed. And then he interrupted himself to moan. "Never," he tried again, "shave off your beard."

He hummed softly in amusement about the beard remark, but he didn't pull back at all in response to that instinctive, involuntary jerk of Anakin's hips.

One very good benefit to all that meditation and all the Jedi control and Obi-Wan's perfectionism was down to controlling himself. Controlling his need to breathe. The speed of his pulse.

In comparison his gag reflex was almost easy.

There was still a moment, when Anakin just hit the back of his throat where he almost panicked and choked, but his focus shifted back to the fingers playing in his hair, drag of metal against his scalp and he relaxed, breathed through his nose, backed off just a little with the slide of his tongue along the underside of Anakin's cock-

Then he went back and this time he did not back off. It was just the start of something slow, hot, wet, and rhythmic.

You can move now..

Could a blow job be both an enormous turn on and meditative at the same time? Apparently so. Because he was more aware of himself, of Anakin, and just more alive than he'd been since his lightsaber ignited today.

The permission and then his follow through were bringing Anakin to a shatter point. The kind that he knew would spread to every inch of his body. He moved slow, Obi-Wan said he could, but he wouldn’t cave into desire so much it would cause unwelcome discomfort. He liked it when Obi-Wan liked it.

He’d switched from fingering Obi-Wan’s hair to trembling caresses.

This was too much and not enough and just right all at once. A paradox to be anchored in three conflicting realities all at once.

“Obi-Wan!” He said sharply. “I’m going to-” he completed the sentence as a thought - come, because talking took too much away from concentrating on holding back. It was easier to just let Obi-Wan show Obi-Wan what was happening through the Force.

Obi-Wan responded to his name by taking Anakin's cock entirely down his throat...

and then was promptly hit by not just arousal but pure, white-hot, heat of impending orgasm.

If having a cock down his throat hadn't already prevented breathing, he would have stopped entirely anyway. His vision actually went white. He growled around Anakin, something more low, rough, vibration than sound..

He thought he was the inexperienced one. Surely Anakin knew that coming was the point.

Would you please-!

Sometimes please was a sign of him teasing Anakin.

This time? It was desperation, demand, and permission all rolled up in soul deep politeness.

Edited 2020-01-17 18:42 (UTC)

Anakin’s hiss was followed by a promise sent through the Force of retribution in kind, images of all the things he would do to incite this same response from Obi-Wan.

And then the consuming heat of his climax.

He wrapped Obi-Wan in the experience of it. He lost the ability to speak as he shudder in Obi-Wan’s mouth. And it took all his remaining strength to stay on his feet.

His pleasure also carried a playful accusation - How dare you make me feel this good!

He very, very sincerely hoped one of those images involved Anakin being inside him, after Anakin had time to recover - though none of those thoughts and images was anything but well received.

He held onto Anakin, using his hands and the Force to make sure he wasn't going to fall and stayed with him all the way through his orgasm, only letting Anakin side free when he was finished and he could feel the finish.

"Feeling good is the point."

Anakin had said so. He was smiling, though, warm and soft and affectionate.

There may have indeed need an image of just that scenario.

Anakin leaned against the door to make a steady descent to the floor, where he all but collapsed onto Obi-Wan. His breathing was as shaky as his legs, but who needed air to live after dying like that?

“Smart-ass,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s ear. “You beautiful-” he moved to kiss Obi-Wan full on the mouth. “Beautiful smart-ass.”

He catches Anakin, arms wrapped around him and feeling... satisfied with himself.

He returns the kiss, slowly and lightly. He's hard, he's still fully dressed and that isn't a problem for him at all. He's patient, and more than that? He is (admittedly temporarily because the galaxy doesn't stop for them, they just carve out space for themselves) content. In this exact moment he is relaxed, warm, and content.

"You wouldn't like me nearly as much if I weren't, I don't think." He smooths his hand down Anakin's back, helping him settle back into his skin.

Anakin did need a moment to catch his breath. This wasn’t like a sparring match, he could go for hours on those mats. This was emotional breathlessness. But when his heart stopped trying to escape his chest he was going to push Obi-Wan just as hard.

He smiled against Obi-Wan’s mouth, and then in between kisses, he said, “I don’t like it when you win arguments.”

He laughed, quiet and a little breathless himself. Anakin could have all the time he wanted to recover, and push as hard as he wanted when it was his turn.

Though Obi-Wan would be more at ease knowing Anakin had already gotten at least one orgasm.

"But you don't like it when I lose, either."

He thought about moving to the bed now, but picking Anakin up (he'd need the force) seemed rude. And hard, when he at least was entirely comfortable.

“I’m complicated, okay?” He was happy that Obi-Wan was happy that he was happy... it was just a warm glow to bask in.

His breathing was close to normal again, if not fully done with his refractory period.

A hand dropped to Obi-Wan’s pants, and he blindly moved it until he found Obi-Wan’s cock. He pressed his hand against it, rubbing slowly.

For someone who had been so ... resistant to letting go of control and just enjoying sex, he'd come a long way.

Emotions, trust, and figuring out how to apply Jedi principals in a very different way all contributed.

His breath caught, his face flushed and his hips twitched just a little.

"I think we should take this to bed." Was he moving though? No. No he was not. He was completely focused on the feeling of Anakin's hand. "I'm old, remember?" Implying he might be too old to handle the floor. He wasn't, but if Anakin was going to call him 'Old-Man'....

Edited 2020-01-17 21:46 (UTC)

“I like the bed,” Anakin said, though he didn’t move. Didn’t move more than his mouth against Obi-Wan. And his hands, that is.

He paused stroking Obi-Wan through the fabric to undo the fasteners on his pants. Object achieved he tugged those pants enough to free Obi-Wan’s hard cock.

He smirked, faintly, moved one hand away from Anakin to call the lube directly to his own hand, then slapped it into Anakin's free one.

"Bed. Now."

A tiny pause. "Please and thank you."

As Obi-Wan slipped away from him, Anakin fell to the floor on all fours, growling and running a hand in frustration through his hair for the way that still worked on him, like a direct line from Obi-Wan’s voice straight to his cock. He was hard again.

But he recovered quickly, chasing Obi-Wan onto the bed.

He started at his legs, dragging his mouth, half feral along the inside of that well defined calf. Pausing the brush a finger behind that knee. His lips going softer up the inner thigh. And then taking Obi-Wan’s cock into his mouth. He knew what Obi-Wan ultimately wanted, but he could tease at first, too.

Once he knew Anakin was aware of what he wanted and they were both on the bed, Obi-Wan was perfectly, completely, content to let Anakin do what he wanted, at whatever speed he wanted.

The mouth along his calf had his eyes dropping to half-mast, the finger behind his knee got him to lift his knee, and the mouth around his cock had him gasping softly and reaching for Anakin with both his hands (fingers sliding through Anakin's hair) and in the force.

Completely open, feeling every single touch, and responding to every single one with an utter, at least for now, lack of inhibition.

Anakin took Obi-Wan in deep and then draw back slowly, tasting all the intoxicating parts of him. Not just physically. This was Obi-Wan at his rarest. The man collect inhibitions like they were valuable pieces of art to adorn his mind and soul. This was Obi-Wan completely naked.

The more intimate they got, the more they reversed roles.

To an extend. Anakin still operated at a level of recklessness and unpredictability he could never fully abandon.

He kissed his way up to Obi-Wan’s mouth, wanting everything from him. He rocked his hips against Obi-Wan’s briefly before pulling back again.

He finally flicked open the lid on the bottle of lube and greased up two fingers. And all the greedy, frantic movement reduced to a gentler pace. There were some things you didn’t rush. Deliberately but tenderly he pushed first one finger inside Obi-Wan, then he added the next.

Anything Anakin did was likely to be used against ('against' - on ) him at some point in the future, in an at least an experimental capacity, albeit extrapolated from in a way that made it Obi-Wan's own.

He carried on with that easy, almost graceful, if quiet responsiveness. He moved into Anakin's mouth and into his hands with subtle shifts of muscle and breath and his hands on Anakin's skin.

One finger was slightly odd, maybe mildly distracting for a half second.

The second and he flinched, expression shifting to one that was the slightest possible, totally silent, snarl and his stomach and thighs tensed, along with reflexively tightening down around Anakin's fingers.

Not because he'd gotten scared. Not because he'd changed his mind. Not because the intimacy was hard. Not even because it actually hurt - faint muscular burn, but nothing more.

Just because it was new. Because he didn't know what to do with it. Because it wasn't entirely comfortable, on a purely physical level. Because he was focused on sensation and wasn't policing his responses.

Because Anakin was right; he was naked, in the most profound way possible.

Anakin kept his movements slow, even slowed down more when Obi-Wan flinched. Paying particular attention to how Obi-Wan felt in the Force, ready to stop immediately if that’s what Obi-Wan wanted.

He kissed Obi-Wan’s, lightly stroking that leg.

“Keep going?” He asked.

He rolled his eyes to closed, pushed his hips back toward Anakin a bit tentatively, got enough control to relax the muscles he had tensed, and all around adjusted to the feeling, and figuring out what to do with it.

A second, less tentative rock back and down and discomfort bled back to arousal.

He shivered, very slightly, and -

"I suppose you could stop if you wanted me to kill you...."

Something about him being a smartass?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Fun fact, I accidentally posted this to my comment first...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject