Once More, Without all That Feeling, a Star Wars fanfic

TITLE: Once More, Without All That Feeling (1/1)
AUTHOR: Little Elflet
PAIRING: Obi-Wan/Anakin
GENRE: One part angst, One part humor, Two parts romance
RATING: PG-13, strong language, public drunkenness
SUMMARY: The Clone Wars are over, Anakin killed the Sith Lord, and the Republic is going through an overhaul thanks to Chancellor Amidala. I say let’s partaaay!
DISCLAIMER: If Star Wars and all its characters belonged to me, Anakin would be wearing tighter leather pants with Obi-Wan as his beloved bitch. Mace would be a gigolo.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is a line in here credited to Bodeewan. Some might know it but I will not list it here so as not to ruin the story.

means that it is a flashback

This is in answer to the January “Let’s Have a Party” Challenge.

Streamers billowed in the night sky, huge and colorful. Their dance was that of a choreographed mess. Confetti fell from the sky, covering all the buildings on the planet with sweet-smelling, silky little squares. The speeders that dropped them zipped off in preparation of dousing more citizens and buildings in the mess, their joyous laughter fading with the distance.

Anakin stood at the edge of the Temple’s biggest balcony, having stepped out of the sultry, festive atmosphere of the Temple’s great hall. He was not in the mood to party. Why would he be when he was the reason for the deaths of his children. Children. They hadn’t even been aware they were twins until the miscarriage. As a result of that, Padme and he had talked. They’d felt themselves drifting apart, but had stayed together for the child.

Grief engulfed them both, for the little lives they will now never get to know. They vowed to remain friends and both admitted that they would never trade their time together for anything… the divorce became final an hour after they had filed; one of the perks of being the newly elected Chancellor, Anakin supposed.

He still felt guilt. Unbearable, undying, eating-away-at-his-soul guilt that he hadn’t been strong enough, fast enough to save them. Padme insisted it hadn’t been his fault. Obi-Wan had wholeheartedly agreed.

Padme placed a shaking hand onto Anakin’s shoulder. She laid her head on his back and pressed her body into his gently. “You couldn’t have known, my Ani. And you should not feel any guilt for resisting the temptation of the Dark Side.”

Obi-Wan, an odd expression on his face that Anakin could not decipher, took a step back from the couple and nodded. “She is right, Anakin. You resisted when the temptation was very great. You had the sense to realize that the Dark Side cannot do anything that the Light Side cannot. You had no idea that when Master Windu took over, that Sidious would get away and go after Padme.”

The Jedi Master took another couple of steps back, his lips twitching as he looked at the cozy picture before him. “You did everything you could, but the fact of the matter is, your children had been damaged beyond all repair by the Sith Lightening. It wasn’t your fault.”

He sighed as he looked down at his drink, swirling it around slightly. Master Koon stumbled out and into Anakin, laughing uncontrollably at the fact that he couldn’t keep his feet under him. He gripped Anakin’s shoulders and swayed, then squinted up at the abnormally tall Jedi, trying to recognize him. Finally, after a couple of fuzzy attempts, the Master smiled in recognition and a newly formed respect. “Anakiiiiin! C’ack on innnn! ‘Is parrrty’s fo’ ‘u!”

Anakin’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline when the other man swayed back and then forward and then back again, finally completing the obvious outcome of drinking so much liquor and falling with a solid thump to the cold tiles of the balcony. The young Jedi didn’t even bother to help the other up and into a more comfortable position or place. Why should he when the whole of the Council only ever started giving him respect and treating him like a human being AFTER he defeated the last Sith Lord and his apprentice?

He stepped over the slumped figure and made his way to the balcony railing, leaning his elbows on it and looking out. It had been a month since the defeat of the Sith and the bestowing of his new title of Master Skywalker and member of the High Council. Many things had to be settled before the Jedi could loosen up enough to have a celebratory party, but when they did, most had insisted that Anakin be the main reason for the party. So, everyone was in there celebrating his Master-hood, earned seat on the Council, and his sound-beating for the Sith. Except himself. He’d wanted to celebrate quietly with his Master for the very reason that no one had even thought he could do it; that he was not Jedi enough to do it, except Obi-Wan.

He looked out over the city, his sigh of discontent drifting out into the night on the wings of the wind. He should be happy that he’d earned their respect and that the war was over. But sometimes, he just wished he could do it all once more, without all the feeling.

Obi-Wan was drunk. He was lucid enough to be able to admit that to himself. But he was too drunk to actually be able to do anything about the fact that he was entirely too loose with himself and his words. He couldn’t help it, though. His little Ani was all grown up, defeated the Sith Lord (with Obi-Wan as the side-kick for once, taking on all the Red Guards), a Master in his own right and an official member of the Council.

Those, however were not the reasons he was drunk. He was drunk because his friend, his closest and best friend, had been married for three years and had gotten his wife pregnant… and hadn’t said a thing to Obi-Wan. That is why he’d gotten drunk. Though it was a hard thing to remember at the moment. The music was getting to his body and it wanted to dance. Being drunk, his mind forgot the bad reasons and just went with the flow.

Trouble by the band Shampoo was on and it was quite a catchy tune. He started moving his hips and torso, sharp and uncoordinated. He stumbled and fell into Master Tachi as she swayed to the music. She giggled and ran a hand through Obi-Wan’s disheveled hair. It sent chills down Obi-Wan’s spine - bad, uncomfortable chills. There was only one person that was allowed that liberty and he was currently on the balcony, away from the party, Obi-Wan soon noticed.

With what was left of his motor skills, the Master swayed and swerved toward the huge double doors, the gauzy curtains swishing in the light breeze. Small steps, just small steps. One foot in front of the other and you can make it, Obi. With those thoughts in mind, his motor skills increased slightly, but only slightly.

Anakin felt a strong focus on him and turned in the direction it was coming from. He smiled slightly at the sight that greeted him. His precious little Master, swaying to and fro as he made his tedious way toward the balcony and Anakin. For a brief second, Anakin thought about making things easier for his Master by approaching him and guiding the older man to a seat at the railing. However, it was precious few times Anakin ever got to see Obi-Wan all out of sorts and undignified, so he stayed his feet, leaned back against the stone, and watched in amusement.

Obi-Wan sniffed and scratched behind his left jaw, grasping onto the fichus next to him to regain some leverage on the suddenly slippery flooring. It was too adorable for Anakin to remain silent. He let out a chuckle and watched as the man stumbled his way over Koon. He didn’t quite catch his balance and would have taken a hard tumble to the ground had Anakin not caught him with the Force and set him to rights. Anakin was quite aware that in his mindset, Obi-Wan was quite sure he’d saved himself.

Finally, after an eternity, Obi-Wan stumbled his way into Anakin’s chest, his face smooshing right into the broad man and his arms falling over the younger man’s shoulders. Anakin smiled gently and pulled the man closer, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. He really hoped Obi-Wan wouldn’t be too embarrassed by this display come morning. He’d really like to see it again, as the ginger-haired man was so endearing, charming, and sweet in his intoxicated state.

Obi-Wan leaned into the chest of the man formerly known as his apprentice. He sighed in contentment as those strong, muscled arms encircled his body and held on tight. He always felt safe within these arms. Safe and loved. Two things he had never felt until Qui-Gon had taken him on as Padawan; two things he’d thought he’d lost when Qui-Gon died. Two things he had felt anew the first day he’d taken Anakin on as Padawan. He could even pinpoint the exact moment in time that it had happened.

He had taken his cut Padawan braid and called Anakin over to him. The boy, small, scared, trembling, had walked toward him. His hands had been tucked into his tunic, twisting the material beyond all recognition. That was alright. He would be issued more comfortable ones once the supplies had been shipped to Naboo. With a slight twitch of the lips - he was still unsure about the child at the time, after all - he gently guided the boy into the circle of his arms. As he braided his own severed braid into the child’s incomplete one, Anakin hugged him. When the braid was attached, Obi-Wan slowly, unsurely, looked down. The wide blue eyes of the small boy smiled up into his… and he’d been lost. He knew that this boy would grow into the man he would one day love with all of his heart and soul.

Drunken tears welled up in the man’s eyes as he remembered that day of revelation. He sniffled, lazily nuzzled his face into Anakin’s chest. The arms tightened around him in concern and a faint feeling of worry, of question, wiggled its way into his mind. Anakin was showing him that he could talk, if needed. Obi-Wan smiled. What he wanted to say might alienate Anakin forever and that was just a chance the man could not take.

A burst of unexpected, raucous laughter jolted Obi-Wan into an upright position. He jarred his head on Anakin’s extremely well-defined jaw, sending a bolt of pain through his already spinning head. Anakin grunted, then focused all his attention on Obi-Wan and his head. It made Obi-Wan slightly grateful to the drunken lout in the party. Those magnificent hands - so deadly and yet so careful - were now running through his hair, soothing the small hurt.

Obi-Wan purred like a small kitten, rubbing his head into the large hands contentedly. He giggled when he looked up at Anakin and swayed backward, the world spinning on its axis. “Whoa!” That deep, sultry voice sent pleasant chills down Obi-Wan’s spine as he took a step again, this time tripping over his boots. Anakin wasn’t quick enough and Obi-Wan landed on his tush.

The two men stared at each other, until the haze in Obi-Wan’s body once again took over. He laughed. Loudly, heartily, long. Anakin’s lips twitched before he too let out a loud guffaw. Still laughing, the taller man, bent down and grabbed the drunk one by the waist. He heaved his lax body up off his feet. “Weeeee!” Obi-Wan exclaimed childishly, bursting out in peals of more infectious laughter. Anakin shook his head and vowed to tease his Master with this behavior for the rest of eternity. The younger man set the Master back upon his feet, but this time leant him against the railing of the balcony. Obi-Wan still had enough sense left to grab a hold and keep holding.

Anakin looked his Master in the face once they were both upright. The man had a gigantically, juvenile smile pasted across his face. His disheveled hair flopped into his eyes and his chest heaved with his inebriated excitement. Anakin managed to chuckle out a, “You don’t like to fly but you enjoy being lifted through the air?”

“Only if you do it.” The statement was so bare, so honest, that it wiped the smile off of Anakin’s face and stiffened his spine. Obi-Wan was gazing at Anakin in a fashion that he’d done many times over the years they’d known each other. Did he- Was he- Anakin shook his head once, twice, not daring to hope. No, Obi-Wan just held Anakin in a place close to the heart. He wasn’t actually IN the heart, but he was near and that is why Obi-Wan only allowed Anakin to take such liberties.

The young Chosen One glanced down and said, “I am glad you trust me enough, Master.” He squinted then, catching sight of something long and slithery around Obi-Wan’s ankles. He bent down and examined the object. It was a streamer from one of the awnings, wrapped like a tentacle around Obi-Wan’s feet. “Let’s get this off of you, Master, before it trips you again.” As Anakin untangled the slippery cloth from the boots, his beloved Master said something that made his jaw drop and - despite his multitude of experience - his cheeks flush with shocked and slightly embarrassed heat.

Obi-Wan’s world was a land filled with bliss and Anakin… and quite possibly just a bit too much Corscunti red wine. They’d had a moment. A sweet little interlude that encouraged Obi-Wan to voice his thoughts, though later he would know to place blame upon the alcohol. It was false courage at best, fear-induced at worst. Something inside him just snapped and just had to tell him. In any way possible. In his drunken state, he thought he’d try to be flirty.

Now, Obi-Wan is not one to flirt. He’d never understood the mechanics of it as a Padawan and - as an adult Knight and Master - never saw the use for it, so he’d never learned. Sometimes, though, he wished he’d had when he saw Anakin flirting so professionally with everything that was bipedal.

So, as his eyes registered the fact that his young friend was bent down in front of him, he thought he’d try a little something that Anakin was familiar with. Something at the back of his mind, though, was tugging at his brain, trying to tell him something important. But what he had to do was way more important than the important thing that his mind wanted, so he shut it up in a little box - to be examined later - and proceeded with his half-baked and entirely irrational plan. “Anakin, while you’re down there… how about doing a friend a favor?”

Obi-Wan thought it was pretty obvious what favor, as his usual pants had been replaced with a leather pair of Anakin’s, which had shrunk in the wash. They fit Obi-Wan perfectly, if but slightly too tight. It showed off his erection perfectly.

Anakin held his breath in disbelief as he heard the attempted - but not quite there - sultry tone in his Master’s voice. The words - words he had never believed his Master capable of uttering - were quite clear with the erection that jutted from the man’s pants. He didn’t know what came over him. He wanted to kill himself even at the time that it happened because he knew the pain it caused. He felt it lance through his whole being when - it must have been due to the combinations of the rare Jedi party, the intoxication of his usually prim and proper Master, his failed attempt at a sultry tone, the corny words he’d uttered… and relief - a loud laugh escaped his mouth.

A loud, hurt gasp escaped his Master’s lips. Anakin wanted to stop, to comfort the man, but he couldn’t. He tried but it was hysterical, uncontrollable. He was pushed backward forcefully by the slighter man, tears pouring down his bearded cheeks. Anakin’s eyes filled with tears as well as he watched the inadvertent pain he’d caused. He wanted to stop but he just couldn’t! Everything was happening so fast, spiraling out of control! The one thing he’d needed was control and he’d lost it. Of his body, of his marriage, of his feelings.

As he watched his Master disappear into the melding and meshing bodies of the party, Anakin held his stomach in grief. Tears gushed down his cheeks in rivulets, mirroring the Nubian waterfalls at Padme’s country estate. His eyes showed the self-loathing and self-disgust as his mouth continued to spurt loud laughter.

Obi-Wan gasped as he swerved through the mass of heated bodies. He was groped in places he’d never been touched before and in anger, lashed out with the Force. He sent quite a few Masters, Knights, and Padawans reeling to the floor or into walls. When he’d heard the first faint echoes of laughter, his heart had shattered and he’d sobered up quicker than the blink of an eye. His mind flashed back through his drunken encounter with Anakin and he cringed so severely that he stumbled into a door. His stomach roiled in self-disgust and a strong sense of low-self esteem.

Even in his inebriated state, he could not fathom what would have made him think that Anakin would feel anything toward him other than what a former Padawan and current - soon to be former, as well, he felt sure - partner would feel.

Obi-Wan weaved his way through the throngs of non-lucid Jedi, trying his best not to get groped again. He looked for the main Temple exit - the one that would take him to the sleeping quarters - and barely spotted it above the tentacle-filled head of a Jedi Obi-Wan hardly knew. He sniffled and pushed his way past a group of giggling girls, glaring as one attempted to touch his anatomy. She backed off wisely and the rest let him pass. He was almost out the door when Master Windu called out to him. “Hey, Obi-Wan! Where are you going? This party is swinging and its for your very own best pal! Come dance!” With that, Mace jumped onto what passed as the dance floor - although Obi-Wan still couldn’t see what the difference between dance floor and regular floor was - and started in on a scary rendition of the Cabbage Patch dance, adding a couple of “Whoo-hoos” and “I’m a bad-ass mutha-fuckas” to the mix. Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to feel amused nor wanted.

He finally made it to his and Anakin’s shared quarters. He leant back against the cold, metallic door and rested his head. The whole world had a different glow to it now. The party had seemed like some sort of grotesque carnival, the kinds you hear about but never dare to venture to on the planet with the strange name, what was it? Oh, yes… the planet of New Orleans.

The laughter - not Anakin’s alone, but the rest of the party-goers added into it - had sounded taunting in his ears. It wasn’t happy and joyous anymore. No, it was accusing, flaunting, teasing, cruel, cruel, cruel towards Obi-Wan. The strobe lights had given all the beings there inhuman looks, as if their peace and calmness had been stripped away and all that was left was their barbaric ancestors. Obi-Wan felt like he was being hunted… and all because his Ani had laughed at him.

His mind flashed back to the loud guffaws that escaped Anakin’s mouth. The body rocked back and forth and the shoulders heaved. He flew into the present once more as his stomach roiled. Tears once more streamed down into his beard as he made a dash for the refresher. He located the toilet soon upon entering, made a beeline for it, dropped on his knees. He bent over the bowl just as his whole body heaved.

Anakin lay on the cool tile, his body winding down from the laughter. His eyes stung as the breeze hit the drying tear tracks. His body ached in so many places that for a moment, he couldn’t move. Finally, after his breathing evened out, his body eased, and all that he could hear were the sounds of the grating party, Anakin swiftly stood. He turned toward the balcony doors and raced through them. He was nimble, agile, quick… and sober, so it was only too easy to avoid the grasping claws of the other Jedi. He had to get to Obi-Wan and explain. He couldn’t let this be just another thing they let fade into the background and never talked about. He couldn’t let this become the speeder wreck that his marriage secret had become. They didn’t talk about it, but Anakin knew it had severely pained the other man that he’d been kept in the dark… as well - Anakin now knew - that it’d pained Obi-Wan that he’d chosen Padme over him.

Anakin had so many things to set right with the man who had always held half of his heart that he wondered if the air would ever be clean between the two. He’d been such a self-absorbed brat just a couple of years ago, a trait he feared he’d never grow out of. But that was going to stop. Tonight he would become the mature adult he’d always thought himself. Tonight, he would soothe Obi-Wan’s pains and reveal all. He had to if he was going to save the galaxy one more time… this time, it was the Anakin/Obi-Wan Galaxy and this time, it was from misunderstandings and secrets.

Obi-Wan dry-heaved over the toilet. Nothing had come up the first time and nothing was coming up now. He’d like to have attributed this urge to the alcohol but he was old and wise. He knew it was due to the fact that his advances had been laughed out of the water, so to speak. Finally, when his body had had enough of torturing itself, the fragile, china-doll-careful-or-I’ll-break-into-a-thousand-million-pieces-if-you-touch-me man, laid his head to rest on the porcelain seat. The cool material felt soothing to his overheated, sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes felt tight and grainy as he shut them to light. His throat ached as he swallowed and his lips burned as the cracks - from hurling session - were wet down with his sandpaper-y tongue. He really hoped that he was drunk enough to forget all about this come morning.

Anakin walked into their shared rooms silently, not wishing to disturb his Master if he was sleeping. He tiptoed to the larger bedroom and peeked in. He was disturbed to see that his Master was not in his bed. He turned and checked the crevices of the living room but there was no broken-down Master. He searched the kitchen and the den, the balcony and the side gardens. He searched his room, though he knew the man would avoid that place like the plague. Finally, after he had checked all the likely places his Master would be, Anakin turned toward the last room. The fresher.

He took deep, calming breaths before proceeding into the room. What he saw broke what was left of his heart. He collapsed to the floor in a shattered heap, his eyes focused on the damage he had done. He couldn’t speak. His throat was raw from the silent screams of rage - directed at himself - that crowded it. More tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the extreme despair rolling off of his Master in waves.

Obi-Wan jerked awake as his body was filled with loving waves. The waves, though, were tainted with guilt and shame and pleas for forgiveness. He sat up and turned, coming to a frozen stand-still when his eyes met those of his beloved. Ruthless, unadulterated pain radiated in those blue, drowning eyes. It was then that Obi-Wan knew the laughter hadn’t been on purpose. It was then he knew his young friend was there to make things right between them. However, he didn’t want to hear the gentle let-down that Anakin would give him when it came time to confront the feelings he’d revealed.

Obi-Wan moved slowly off the bowl and onto the floor, facing Anakin. He lay his cheek down on the tile, his face aligned perfectly with Anakin’s. He placed his hand between them, flat and spread on the ground. Silence reigned for a few seconds. Then, the only sound was the rustling of fabric as Anakin lifted his arm and placed his hand atop his Master’s. He laced their fingers together and held on for all he was worth… which was the eternal galaxy to Obi-Wan.

No words passed between them. Their eyes said it all. The feeling that flowed between their clasped hands said it all. They revealed secret after secret to each other through their Master-Padawan bond. The last secret Obi-Wan wanted to keep locked away safe, but he’d already ruined that chance with his flopped attempt at flirting, so he let it all out. How he felt that Anakin was his sun, his moon, the stars… the last piece to the puzzle to make his soul complete.

He revealed that he’d had that latent love for Anakin since he was a boy of only nine, when they’d first put his Padawan braid on. Obi-Wan felt ashamed that he’d felt so toward a boy fifteen years his junior, at the age of nine. That feeling bled through, bringing a sad smile to Anakin’s full lips.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes once his revelations were over. He awaited Anakin’s patiently. They came. Anakin’s fascination with Padme, calling her an angel. That hurt Obi-Wan. The love that burned in his breast for her as he was separated from her and taken to the Jedi Temple. His fear that he would be rejected and set adrift… his fascination toward Obi-Wan. His awe of him.

The multitude of misunderstandings between them. Anakin’s soul-deep fear when Obi-Wan had been captured by Ventress. His marriage to Padme, the revelation of a child, his killing of Dooku in anger. The want of the Dark Side, the temptation. The refusal… not only because of his child but because if he fell, it would hurt and disappoint Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open at that. He looked deep into Anakin’s glazed eyes. The memories kept pulsing through his body. The fight with Sidious, the worry for Obi-Wan. The pain as his children died… the divorce - and the liberation he felt afterward. The no more than friendly feelings toward his former wife… the absolute and complete devotion he held for Obi-Wan. The burning, needing, all-consuming love that pulsed like lava beneath his skin. The want, the desire, the absolute passion. The relief - one of the things that had been his motive for laughing - that Obi-Wan felt the same.

Anakin came out of his Force-transfer and stared into Obi-Wan’s eyes. He didn’t have to say it. Obi-Wan knew that the next move was up to him. And he took it. He pulled himself up, bringing Anakin up with him. They made it to their feet. Obi-Wan lowered his lashes in the submission he’d been so longing to give to the master of his heart. Anakin traced his jaw before gently guiding Obi-Wan out of the cold refresher and into the warm, velvety feeling that was Anakin’s bedroom.

The ginger-haired man was led to the bed and set carefully upon it, as if Anakin was afraid he would break if handled too roughly. The taller man sank to his knees in front of the other man and lowered his head onto Obi-Wan’s lap, lying there quietly. “Oh, Master…” It was a sigh of contentment, of love and completion.

Obi-Wan ran his fingers through the younger man’s beautiful main of curls before asking, “Won’t you call me by my name?”

Anakin lifted his head slowly, looked straight into his Master’s eyes. “I love you… Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath as the one word Anakin had never said before, rolled off his tongue like it belonged there. It was throaty, gravelly, sultry, velvet chocolate and so, so fucking right. He had waited so very long to hear that. It sent shock waves of pleasure through his veins as Anakin’s tongue caressed the word as he was now caressing Obi-Wan’s cock. Small grunts fell from Obi-Wan’s lips before they were captured, tickled, then caged in Anakin’s own mouth.

His lips were taken gently, yet Anakin’s mouth left no doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind that he expect total and complete fidelity from said lips. Obi-Wan tried to show that he would comply with his master’s wishes, though it was hard when one had no experience on his side.

A smile curved Anakin’s beautiful lips as he asked, “Have you never been kissed, my Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. Anakin’s lips twitched a little wider. He continued to speak in that raspy, whisper-ish tone of his that sent jolts of white-hot desire pulsing through Obi-Wan. “Then I am to assume you have not enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh.”

Obi-Wan nodded in slight embarrassment. In a show of deference - a show that no one other than Anakin would ever get out of Obi-Wan - the Master lowered his eyelids again and asked, “Does this displease you?”

Anakin brought Obi-Wan’s head back up and captured the lips in a slight kiss. He separated and then snarled sensuously, “Displease? My love, you know how possessive I am.” Obi-Wan’s eyes sparked joyously. “It enflames me to know that I am the first to ever touch you… and that I will be your only.” Obi-Wan gasped in ecstasy as those words sunk in. He was enfolded in arms that felt like home, then he was slowly lowered to the bed as Anakin devoured his neck. “I love you, too, Anakin…” The last words spoken that night… that weren’t shouted to the high heavens in total ecstasy.

Anakin's and Obi-Wan's party was just beginning.

The End.

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