Actions

Work Header

Before I knew you (I was already yours)

Work Text:

Obi-Wan breathed in deep as he swiped the door to his quarters open, bracing himself for a sulking Anakin Skywalker. Knowing his Padawan, he’d spent the last three weeks sinking his surliness at being kept away from ‘the action’ into the very walls of their rooms, and it’d take days of continuous efforts for Obi-Wan to wash it out. 

Making Anakin happy was a full time job that Obi-Wan had missed dearly during his solo mission. 

Stepping into the living room however, Obi-Wan gasped as a wall of scent assaulted him, overwhelming his senses. It was heat, and desert sands, and a floral scent he couldn’t identify but called up blurry memories of high rocky cliffs and salted winds.

Obi-Wan had to throw his hand to the wall to support himself as his knees buckled. The scent was heady and powerful, and better than anything Obi-Wan had ever encountered. He wanted to drink it in, wanted to bathe in it.

He wanted to find whoever the scent belonged to and- Whoever. Whoever. 

Alpha. 

This was the scent of an alpha. There had been an alpha in their quarters. Recently, by the strength of their smell.

Dread dropped icy cold in Obi-Wan’s gut, and he pushed himself off the wall. Why had an Alpha been here? Had they come for Anakin? Obi-Wan didn’t recognize the smell, but they had to be a Jedi to be so deep in the Temple. If someone had laid a hand on Anakin, if someone had hurt him, he would…

Obi-Wan hissed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Curse this scent, clouding his head. Pushing the addictive smell to the edges of his mind, Obi-Wan took a few steps into the room. 

The clean room. Their living room was never clean, especially not after Anakin had been left to his own devices. Yet, there were no droids pieces on the floor, no half-drunken cups of caf on the table, or piles of datapads strung on every flat surface.

For a moment, Obi-Wan had a surge of hope that he had somehow entered the wrong quarters. It would explain the smell and the cleanliness, and Anakin wouldn’t have spent days in the company of an Alpha Obi-Wan didn’t know.

But- But no, Obi-Wan knew the plant on the windowsill. And the tapestry hanging on the wall. And the scorch mark on the ceiling from one of Anakin’s old projects.

These were his quarters. His quarters that were clean, and stunk of Alpha. Where was Anakin ? He always showed up when Obi-Wan came back from a solo mission, if only to complain about being left behind, no matter what else he was supposed to be doing. Obi-Wan had left the day after his 18th birthday, Anakin should have been waiting for him with a full presentation worth of grievances. 

Maybe he was with the Alpha. Maybe he was with the Alpha right now, right here, in his room. Maybe Anakin hadn’t even noticed his Master had returned. 

Obi-Wan braced himself and breathed in deep. The Alpha scent would drown out Anakin’s own delicate scent, but surely Obi-Wan would still be able to tell if there was distress in the air. Or if Anakin had been hurt.

Nothing. Just the same overwhelming smell, all around him. Their training bond was the same as it had been for years, politely shielded on both sides. If Anakin hadn’t been in distress, if he hadn’t been hurt by however the Alpha was, then he had wanted them here. He had invited them here, back to his quarters. To their quarters.

Lancing pain shot through Obi-Wan’s chest, and again he could barely breathe. Of course. He should have seen it coming. He’d gotten lucky all those years. Anakin had never shown anyone any interest, but that hadn’t meant he never would. Maybe he’d been waiting until his dreary old Master couldn’t scold him about it anymore. He was eighteen now, he could do as he wanted with his life. He could go to anyone with his desires.

Obi-Wan huffed, trying to grasp at his jealousy and grief, trying to push them out into the Force. Anakin had been pulling away from him for over a year, this was hardly a surprise. He needed to get himself under control. Anakin could come back at any moment, maybe with company, and he didn’t deserve to have to deal with Obi-Wan this upset. Not when he’d done nothing wrong.

It wasn’t Anakin’s fault that Obi-Wan was so scared of losing him it kept him up at night. He would never forgive himself if he held Anakin back because he was too weak to deal with his own attachments. Anakin was so loyal, Obi-Wan knew he’d try. He would give up on what he wanted not to hurt Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t allow it. 

It would hurt like losing a limb, to go from being the most important person in Anakin’s life to a distant, easily forgotten planet, orbiting the brilliant, all-encompassing star his Padawan had always been.

But Obi-Wan would make sure it only hurt him. If he had to smile and make pleasant conversation with every single person Anakin brought back to their quarters, he would. He would make tea, and tell embarrassing stories about his Padawan, and enjoy every moment he was allowed with Anakin.

And he would hope that once Anakin moved on, he’d still have some time once in a while for his old Master.

Not looking at Anakin’s door, he walked to his room. Hopefully, his own space was free from the intoxicating scent. Whoever Anakin had chosen to celebrate his majority, Obi-Wan certainly couldn’t fault his taste.

If anything, his room smelled more of the Alpha. Against his will and better judgement, Obi-Wan felt himself get wet at the concentrated scent. It felt right, to have that smell in his most private sanctum. Like this was how it should have smelled all along. Obi-Wan hated it, hated that he wanted to drop into his bed and wrap himself in his covers that had to be permeated by the scent. Force and Stars, had Anakin had sex in his bed? His Padawan could be thoughtless sometimes, but he wasn’t cruel. Obi-Wan needed to get away, away from the smell, away from reminders of Anakin’s sex life before he went insane. He’d just sleep on Bant’s couch until he could air the apartment out. He would…

Anakin was on his bed. 

Obi-Wan had been so distracted by the state of his room that he’d almost walked by his Padawan. His Padawan, who was sitting, shirtless, on his bed, staring right at him. He was so still he might as well be a statue. If he couldn’t feel the pressure of his Padawan’s eyes on him, Obi-Wan would have wondered if he was meditating. But whatever Anakin was doing in his bedroom, shirtless, it certainly wasn’t seeking inner peace.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, voice only stern because of years of practice. Anakin wasn’t with an Alpha, and it appeared he had been waiting for him. Obi-Wan hated that that was enough to spark happy butterflies in his gut.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s gaze was drilling through him, like he was waiting for something. Waiting for Obi-Wan’s reaction. Did he think Obi-Wan would scold him for having sex?

“Next time you bring company to our rooms,” Obi-Wan sighed tiredly, “would you please take care to not let them scent every piece of furniture?”

“Company?” Anakin’s brow furrowed in what seemed almost offense, and oh, Obi-Wan was not in the right state of mind for this. Anakin was an enigma on a good day, and this was not a good day. 

“Yes, Anakin, company. The whole apartment stinks of Alpha.” Obi-Wan dropped his robe on his chair, breaking eye contact for a second. Between the smell and Anakin’s scrutiny, the room was turning far too warm to be comfortable.

“You don’t like it?” Anakin demanded, alarmed, shifting forward to try and get a better look at his master. “The smell?” For some reason, Anakin reached across their bonds, pushing against Obi-Wan’s to be granted access, but Obi-Wan ignored him. The last thing he needed right now was Anakin prodding at his mind. Obi-Wan’s weakness was his business, and no one else’s.

“Padawan, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Obi-Wan answered tightly. Had this been Anakin’s idea of a gift? His Padawan had often seemed upset at Obi-Wan’s healthy wariness of Alphas, had he taken it upon himself to find a match for his Master? How often would Obi-Wan have to tell him he was perfectly capable of dealing with his own heats?

“But do you like it?” Anakin refused to back down, pushing himself to his knees, and even in the darkness of the room, Obi-Wan could read the almost feverish light in his eyes. Mother of Stars, why couldn’t Anakin have pity on him for once in his life.

“Yes, Anakin, I like it.” Obi-Wan told him, hoping to cut this infernal conversation short. Would Anakin insist on introducing whoever the Alpha right away? How long would Obi-Wan have to argue before Anakin understood he would much prefer a quiet evening in his company than any Alpha’s?

Force, had Anakin somehow realised how upset Obi-Wan was at their upcoming separation, and was trying to offer him a replacement?

“Good!” Anakin beamed, slumping into a more relaxed stance. “I was so worried you wouldn’t like it. Master Che said the suppressants could corrupt the scent.”

What in the Stars.

“Anakin, what suppressants?” Obi-Wan’s voice barely squeezed through his throat. Anakin’s shoulders slumped, and he started fidgeting. For the first time since he had entered the room, his eyes fell away from Obi-Wan.

“I wanted to tell you, Master, I swear. But I presented so late, and everyone already treated me like a beta, and I didn’t want to give the Council another reason to think I was too angry!” Anakin babbled, muscles tensing more and more as we spoke. “Anyway, I knew you wouldn’t accept me before I was eighteen, so I figured I could handle suppressants for a couple of years.”

Oh Force.

“Anakin, don’t say such ridiculous things.” Obi-Wan was petrified, bolted to the ground. “You’re a beta.” 

Anakin was a beta, they’d done all the tests when he first arrived at the Temple! Obi-Wan had made sure of it, if only because Alpha Padawans could have difficulties with Omega Masters. But not Anakin! No matter how often Anakin and he clashed, it had never had anything to do with their designations. He had known Anakin’s delicate beta scent better than his own. He had never expressed any interest in anyone, let alone other omegas. Let alone Obi-Wan.

“I’m not!” Anakin straightened his back, pushing his shoulders back. He was presenting himself, Obi-Wan realised. Showing off the strength and vitality of his body. 

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan tried to scold, but his sternness caught in his throat. Anakin huffed harshly, and jumped to his feet, taking a long step towards Obi-Wan. Stars, the scent got stronger. Anakin’s scent got stronger. This close, Obi-Wan could almost taste it.

“Oh, Anakin.” He whispered, but stumbled backwards when Anakin tried to get closer. 

“Master?” Anakin asked, confused. Good. Finally Obi-Wan wasn’t alone. “You see now, don’t you?” He took another step forward, frowning harshly when Obi-Wan backed away again. “Why are you running away from me?”

Again, Anakin reached across their bond, as if he was trying to wrap himself around Obi-Wan’s mind, lapping at his shields, begging to be granted entry. Obi-Wan pushed him away reflexively, and Anakin retreated, hunched on himself like a kicked puppy.

“This- Padawan, this is not-” Obi-Wan tried to protest.

“What?” Anakin scoffed, but stopped trying to reach him. “Not appropriate? Not in accordance with the Code?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan tried to shake himself out of this fog. “Yes, to both of those.”

“Why does it matter!” Anakin’s voice rose, his fists clenching.

“You are not thinking clearly, Anakin.” Obi-Wan needed to get out of the room before he did lose himself. “You’re not used to your hormones, and I’m the only Omega you spend any time around-”

“Poodoo!” Anakin spat, swaying back and forth as if he was barely keeping himself from reaching out. “I’ve been in love since before I presented!”

Fire burst in Obi-Wan’s gut. I’ve been in love with you. In love. With you. 

Anakin. He had failed him. He had failed his Padawan through his own failings.

“Anakin.” He whispered.

“I’m here, Master.” Anakin answered. His eyes were so wide. “I’m here, please.

“The Code.” This was such a weak protest, for such a weak man. How could he even contemplate this? This was more than a guilty fantasy or an errant dream. This was Anakin, his Padawan.

His Padawan, who smelled so good, Obi-Wan wanted to drown in it.

“Kriff the Code!” Anakin spat, and it shouldn’t have sent shivers down his spine. “The Force gave me to you, why the kark would the Code matter!”

“Gave you to me?” 

“Yes! I needed the greatest of Masters to guide me, so the Force made me your Padawan. I fell in love with you, so the Force made me an Alpha so you could love me back!” Anakin shouted, jerking forward before going rigid. Frightened. Scared that Obi-Wan would run away.

Anakin. Oh Anakin.

“You never needed to change for me to love you, Anakin.” He rasped, his entire being burning to take the young man into his arms, to press him to his heart and brush his hair back. To make Anakin feel how Obi-Wan would never be able to feel anything less for him than love.

“Then let me be yours, Obi-Wan. Let me love you.”

“You’re still my- a Padawan, Anakin.”

“Good. That means the Council can’t separate us. We’ll be together all the time. I’ll be your Padawan, and your Alpha.”

His. His Alpha. His Padawan. His Anakin. Force, Obi-Wan wanted it. He wanted Anakin by his side in all the ways that mattered. They should belong to each other, for as long as the Force would give them.  

“I don’t want an Alpha, Anakin, I told you a hundred times.” Good. That was good. A good argument, that they’d had in the past.

“You don’t want the other Alphas, Obi-Wan.” Anakin rolled his eyes as if Obi-Wan was the one being ridiculous. “The kriffing idiots who want to turn you into some kind of arm candy. They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know how you shine when you fight, or how you can convince anyone to agree with you, or how hot you are when you give orders.”

“You never listen to my orders.” 

“Well, I had to figure a way to hide how turned on I was, didn’t I?” Anakin said, not a trace of shame on his face. “But I promise, I’ll never try to tame you, or dominate you, or whatever kriffing bullshit they always try to pull on you. I’ll be yours. I’ll give everything you want, but could never get from anyone else.”

“You are making a lot of promises, Anakin.” Obi-Wan refused to imagine it, to imagine Anakin, his Anakin, finally satiating all the needs he’d ignored since his own puberty. And he would, Obi-Wan had no doubt. Anakin never accepted anything less than excellence from himself.

“When have I ever let you down, Master?” There he was, cocksure, smirking Anakin. Obi-Wan wanted to scoff, to roll his eyes, to kiss the infuriating expression off his face. 

“Would you like me to provide a list?” Even through the intoxicating cloud of Anakin’s scent, with slick starting to drip down his thighs, Obi-Wan felt more balanced as he fell back into banter. This he could do. This he understood. 

“When’s the last time someone fucked you like you needed?” Of course, Anakin Skywalker had the subtlety and single mindedness of a freight train.

“Have you ever even had sex, Anakin?” Obi-Wan was almost sure he never had. His Padawan was never one to feel in moderation.

“You’ll teach me, Master.” Anakin answered, shrugging as his smile softened. “I’ll learn from you, what you want, how you need me. You know I can! When have I ever failed to learn something you taught me?”

When Obi-Wan had warned him against attachments. But then, Anakin had evidently not had the best of teachers in that regard. 

“And what if what I want is to take you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan growled, making his words harsher than he ever would, because he had to understand. Whatever idea Anakin had of an Omega, it wasn’t Obi-Wan. “What if I want to fuck you, watch you come on my cock?”

“Force, yes.” Anakin groaned, and Obi-Wan saw his cock twitch, even through the folds of the loose pants he was wearing, and well. Obi-Wan was a strong man, respected for his self-control, but this… His Alpha, his Anakin, hungry to be fucked, ready to bend for him…

Obi-Wan stalked forward, stopping a breath away from Anakin. This close, even in the darkness of the room, he could see Anakin’s long lashes as they fluttered, his fine cheekbones, his plush lips. He was gorgeous, a vision of a man, and Obi-Wan wanted to learn every inch of him.

“No.” He snapped when Anakin reached for him, and he jerked straighter, eyes wide as they looked down at Obi-Wan. Force. “If we do this, you can’t Mark me. We will not be able to mate, and we will not be able to have children. Unless we are 100% certain of being safe, we will not spend my heats together.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but clicked it shut at Obi-Wan’s unyielding look.

“Yes, Master.” He whispered, sweet and heated.

Obi-Wan leant forward and brushed his lips against Anakin’s. They were soft and warm, and Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to taste him. Pulling back, he looked into Anakin’s stunned eyes, waiting for him to react. Would he have second thoughts now? 

“Obi-Wan.” He murmured, and his breath fanned against his cheeks like a caress.

“Anak-” Obi-Wan smiled gently at him, but Anakin swooped down, smacking their mouths together with great enthusiasm and little technique, teeth clacking painfully. Obi-Wan snorted, trying to re-angle their faces, but Anakin, burning with embarrassment, doubled down, trying to lick into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

His poor little Padawan. This wouldn’t do. Obi-Wan smiled, cradling Anakin’s cheek in one hand, tangling his Padawan braid around the other. He tugged at the braid until Anakin relented with a whine.

“Patience, dear one.” Obi-Wan whispered. “You promised to be a good student.”

“Sorry, Master.” Anakin was already panting, his cheek burning under his fingers. 

Obi-Wan swept a thumb over his cheekbone before leaning back up, pressing a kiss to one corner of Anakin’s mouth, then the other. His alpha kept himself still, eyes fluttering under Obi-Wan’s attention. Good. 

He turned his head, catching Anakin’s mouth in a dry kiss, enjoying the yield of his plush, warm lips for a moment. Exhaling, Anakin pushed back gently, not asking for more, but testing their rhythm. Testing how their mouths fit and molded together.

Obi-Wan, hungry and happy to reward good behavior, peeked his tongue out and traced Anakin’s upper lip. Anakin was salt and sweetness, and a hint of the same flower that clouded his scent. Groaning at the taste, Obi-Wan felt himself grow harder and wetter. Anakin smelled his slick and growled, chasing Obi-Wan’s tongue with his lips until he tugged his braid again, demanding calm.

Master.

“Patience, Anakin. All in good time.” Obi-Wan’s body was on fire, but his voice was soft. Soothing. He’d had years of practice appearing composed against the wildfire that was Anakin Skywalker. Time to put it all to good use. 

Cradling the back of Anakin’s head, he pulled his head down, licking into his mouth, swallowing his keen. So wonderfully responsive. He spent long, delicious minutes mapping Anakin’s mouth, learning the tricks that would make him shudder against him. Anakin sighed and moaned and let Obi-Wan do as he pleased, wrapping his arms tight around his shoulders, clutching at his Master. Obi-Wan pulled back from his mouth, relishing in Anakin’s whine. Yet Anakin remained where he had been left, expectant. Beautiful. When he leaned back, Obi-Wan parted his mouth, inviting Anakin to return the favor.

Oh, Anakin could be filthy. He had learned as fast as he had promised, repeating Obi-Wan’s motions until he found how to make his Master’s knees buckle. He was unrelenting, plundering Obi-Wan’s mouth, and he could only claw at his bare shoulders. 

Up until this moment, Obi-Wan had kept a careful distance between their bodies, but he needed to feel Anakin’s skin on his. Now. Dragging his palms down Anakin’s back, the muscles jumped and shivered under his touch. He pulled his mouth away, panting against Anakin’s jawbone.

“Remove my belt.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

Anakin’s long fingers unclasped it, letting the belt slide to the ground. Turning his head, Anakin pressed soft kisses to Obi-Wan’s brow, the corner of his eye, his cheek, as he waited for further permission.

“You can remove the rest too, dear one.” Obi-Wan grinned, tracing the edges of Anakin’s hip bones.

Yes, Master.” 

“You’ve had my tongue in your mouth, Anakin, you can call me Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan sighed, as if Anakin had ever needed permission not to stand on ceremony with him.

“Of course, Master.” Oh, he could hear Anakin’s grin.

“Brat.” He grumbled as his tabard was gently pushed off his shoulders. Anakin seemed to be unwrapping him, like one would a particularly precious and long-awaited gift. Impossible fondness bloomed in Obi-Wan’s ribcage, and to his horror, his eyes prickled. Ducking his head down to trail his lips under Anakin’s jaw until he reached his ear, he closed his eyes, willing the tears away. Anakin was the inexperienced one, not him.

Anakin groaned when Obi-Wan nibbled at the soft skin behind his ear, fingers tangling in the undertunic he had been pulling up as he arched his neck to give him better access.

“Weren’t you doing something, Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, nipping at his earlobe.

“I’m only following your lead, Master.” Anakin grumbled, yanking the tunics over Obi-Wan’s head before all but shoving him back into his neck. Obi-Wan considered teasing him, but wrapped his hands over Anakin’s ribs instead, drawing their torsos together.

Anakin’s skin was smooth and soft, velvet draped over taunt muscles. Everywhere they touched, Obi-Wan burned up. Gasping, Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, almost lifting him off the floor in his urgency to press as much of their bare chests against each other. The motion pushed his hip against Obi-Wan’s erection, and a loud moan burst out his very core. Losing himself for a second, Obi-Wan rutted against him, desperate for more, before swearing and pushing himself away.

“No!” Anakin protested, trying to shift so Obi-Wan could continue to hump against him. “Keep going, please, please Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan didn’t even try to answer, grabbing at Anakin’s braid again to pull his mouth down to his again, pushing his tongue in. He burned for so much more than dry-humping Anakin like a pup.

Scrambling at the ties of Anakin’s sleep pants, he pushed the garment down, and finally wrapped his hand around his beautiful cock. It stood proud, curving up towards Anakin’s belly, and he gave a few experimental strokes, drinking in the ragged sounds that seemed punched out of Anakin. His Anakin. Somehow, he already felt the beginnings of a knot. Most Alphas only had knots when laying with Omegas in heat, yet here was Anakin.

Ready to tie them together.

Slick gushed out of him, and Anakin swore violently at the smell. Licking at Anakin’s lips again, he pushed him back until his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards. Sprawled on the mattress, Anakin caught in the sliver of moonlight streaming from the window, setting his skin aglow. Racing to remove his leggings, Obi-Wan’s gaze traced over every dip and valley of Anakin’s body. Next time, if Anakin blessed him with a next time, if his darling Padawan didn’t come to his senses the next morning, he would spend hours devouring him.

He was so focused on getting out of clothes, on Anakin spread out like a vision on his bed, that he almost jumped out of skin when he felt something crash against his mental shields. Something that felt remarkably like Anakin.

Obi-Wan looked back up at Anakin’s desperate face, at the way he had fisted the sheet to stop himself from grabbing at Obi-Wan. His Alpha, trying so very hard to be good. Obi-Wan grunted as another wave of want-longing-connection crashed against his shields, stronger and more uncoordinated than Anakin had been in years.

It was a bad idea. They would have enough troubles untangling themselves from each other as it was. That wasn’t what a training bond was for. They shouldn’t. But they were so far past shouldn’t.

Obi-Wan lowered his shields as he let his leggings fall to the ground. He opened himself to Anakin as he stepped forward and straddled his lap. Anakin dove into him as he wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan and melded their bodies together.

The world disappeared. Obi-Wan couldn’t feel anything beyond the furnace of Anakin’s skin, the silky drag of their cocks against one another, the ecstasy of Anakin’s mind sinking into his own. His Padawan was a storm of love and desire and desperation and happiness and eagerness. Obi-Wan did his best to push his devotion back to Anakin, to show him everything he had never found the words for.

The Force sang around them. Anakin sang around him. Obi-Wan didn’t know what he felt like, but he couldn’t remember a happier moment in his life. 

Anakin clutched at his waist, hips twitching in small aborted movements under him as he tried to stay still. Ducking his head, he trailed his head down Obi-Wan’s neck until he was kissing his mating gland. Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back in his head at the faintest pressure, but he grabbed at Anakin’s braid urgently.

“Anakin, you can’t.” He growled.

“I know, I know, Master. I won’t. Please, please.” Anakin panted, tearing himself  away to bite at the crown of Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan doubted Anakin even knew what he was asking for at this point. His brave Alpha, behaving himself so well for him. Obi-Wan lifted himself higher on his knees, soothing Anakin’s frustration at the sudden absence of contact  with a brush of his mind and a short but filthy kiss.

“Are you ready for me, dear one?” He whispered in Anakin’s ear and across their bond.

“Yes!” Anakin answered, his fingers digging in Obi-Wan’s ass.

“Stay still for me.” 

Without another thought, Obi-Wan pressed Anakin’s cock to his hole and sank down slowly. Obi-Wan was so wet there was barely any resistance, the slide smooth and warm. Without a moment of discomfort, Obi-Wan was seated back in his Padawan’s lap. Anakin was perfect , long and hard and radiating adoring wonderment. They were one, and neither one seemed capable making sense of the riot of sensation coursing through them.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan whispered, the most beautiful word he knew, the only one that felt at home in his mouth at the moment. 

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s voice was thin and choked. “Oh- You feel- Force, Obi-Wan.”

Pressing a chuckle to the corner of Anakin’s mouth, Obi-Wan slowly started riding him, savouring every inch of Anakin’s cock as it slid in and out of him. There was so much of him, and they were wrapped so tightly as to be indistinguishable in Force, but there was something missing. Obi-Wan needed something more.

He could stay here, on top of Anakin, taking him like he had every other Alpha in his life. But that wasn’t what Anakin had offered. Anakin had promised to give Obi-Wan what he needed. 

Shifting so he could get his knees tight around his Padawan’s waist, he twisted them around without warning. Anakin, taken by surprise, barely caught himself from elbowing him in the gut, looking down at Obi-Wan, now laying on the mattress.

“Obi-Wan?” He asked, confused by the turn of events.

“Time to show how well you listen, my Padawan.” Obi-Wan said, wrapping his legs above his hips and locking his ankles.

“Yes, Master.” Anakin swore like an oath, brows furrowing down into aroused determination.

“Kiss me.” 

Anakin dove down to devour Obi-Wan’s mouth, keeping his hips completely still until Obi-Wan dug his heels into the back of his thighs, guiding him into a slow but deep rhythm. Ever the quick study, Anakin settled into the languid motion, pushing the air out of Obi-Wan’s lungs everytime he bottomed down. Obi-Wan trailed his nails up and down his flanks, his back his shoulders, delecting in the shivers his fingers left in their wake.

With every crest of Anakin’s hips, he felt pleasure and urgency build, burning in his muscles, racing under his skin. He could feel Anakin tremble above him like a colt, their shared mind a mess of lancing anticipation.

Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore, when Anakin’s knot grew big enough that it started to catch at his rim despite his slickness, he wrapped his Padawan’s braid around his fingers.

“Harder.” He demanded.

“Thank you.” Anakin answered, pulling out and slamming back in, nearly folding Obi-Wan in half from the strength of his thrust. The bond flared with ecstasy. Anakin, panting in his ear, grabbed at Obi-Wan’s thighs and started pounding into him, guided by his Master’s cries of pleasure.

His Master. His Omega.

“My Anakin.” Obi-Wan whispered, and Anakin lost himself, lifting Obi-Wan’s ass off the mattress to fuck into him relentlessly, his rhythm not stuttering once. Obi-Wan’s knees were clenching so tight around his waist, his Padawan would probably have bruises from them alone. Obi-Wan had never imagined this pleasure. How could he have? He knew, down his bones, that no one would ever satisfy like Anakin would. There would be no one else he would trust to have him like this. No one else he would let see like Anakin. No one would ever care to learn him like he wanted. His Padawan. His Alpha.

His Anakin.

“Yours.” Anakin growled, as if answering his thoughts. “Yours, always yours.”

“Mine. My Anakin, doing so well for me.” Obi-Wan smiled beatifically up at him. “So good, like you promised.”

Anakin’s mouth dropped into a groan and snapped his hips to Obi-Wan’s just as his knot grew larger, too large to be removed. Anakin gasped, in bliss and shame, fingers digging into the meat of Obi-Wan’s ass.

“I’m sorry. Force, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” He panted, unable to stop himself from trying to rut deeper into Obi-Wan, until Obi-Wan dragged him down into an open mouthed kiss.

“Oh, Anakin. You feel so good, dear one, so good. ” He groaned. He was so full, full of Anakin’s knot and his cock and his feelings in the bond. 

“I do?” Anakin pushed his forehead against Obi-Wan’s seeking every bit of connection he could find.

“You’re perfect. Like you were made for me.” 

“I was. I was, Obi-Wan. I was always yours.” 

And at that moment, Obi-Wan could almost believe it.

“Touch me.” He demanded. He needed to come. He needed Anakin to make him come.

Thank you .” Anakin whispered fervently. Still fucking into Obi-Wan as much as his knot would allow, he wrapped his hand around Obi-Wan cock, the abundant pre-come making his strokes easy. His grip was just a tad too tight, but Obi-Wan didn’t have the beginning of the words to correct him. Not when his orgasm was creeping closer and closer, his thigh muscles tensing more and more.

A twist of Anakin’s wrist, and Obi-Wan was coming all over his belly, his entire body clenching around Anakin. Stars dancing in his eyes, his mind burst into blinding light for a second time as Anakin tumbled over the edge after him, filling him with come. He groaned at the sensation, at being full of Anakin’s seed.

For a moment, for a foolish second, he imagined he wasn’t on birth control, that Anakin’s seed could get him pregnant, that he could get round with Anakin’s children.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s voice was faint with pleasure, yet there was a point of anxiety he just couldn’t abide.

“I’m here, Anakin.” He whispered back, pushing his stupid flights of fancies into the Force to focus on this, on his brilliant Padawan. “You did so good.”

“Yeah?” Anakin’s smile was still wan, but his worries wisped away.

“Perfect, dear one. Come here.” Obi-Wan beaconed him down, and Anakin lowered himself to him, careful not to tug on the knot or to rest too much of his weight on Obi-Wan. Tucking his nose into Obi-Wan’s neck, all tension seemed to seep out of his frame at once. Carding his fingers through Anakin’s hair, Obi-Wan listened as his Padawan’s breathing slowed down into sleep.

Obi-Wan gently started untangling their minds, already mourning the loss of connection as he built up his mental shields. Hopefully, by the time they had to face the Council again, they would feel like two distinct people again.

Force, the Council. How would he ever be able to look them in the eyes after tonight? And why didn’t that thought fill him with crippling guilt? Why couldn’t he summon an ounce of regret as he was still wet from his Padawan’s semen?

“You’re thinking too loud.” Anakin grumbled, despite the fact that Obi-Wan’s shields were now as solid as ever. There was no way he could know anything about what his Master was thinking.

“One of us has to think about the future, Padawan mine.” Obi-Wan scolded without heat, tracing the shell of Anakin’s ear.

“The future can wait for tomorrow morning.” 

“Do you mean you don’t already have plans to ravish me again  tomorrow morning?”

“Only if you want me to, Master.” Anakin pressed a cheeky kiss to Obi-Wan’s Adam's apple.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Everything will be fine, Obi-Wan.” Anakin shifted with mild irritation at being dragged out of his post-coital serenity, both their breaths catching when it tugged at the knot. “We always figure something out, don’t we?”

“Attachment is forbidden for a reason, Anakin.”

“As long as you’re by my side, there’s no way I’ll fall to the Dark Side, Master.” Anakin promised. “I don’t think I’d survive the lecture you’d throw at me if I did.”