AN: The POV might be a little hard to follow through this chapter. It goes from Obi, to Ani, to 3rd, to Obi again. In anycase, this will probably be the concluding chapter to this story as far as I can see. I hope that everyone who read this story enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Also, for those who have been waiting my entire fanfiction career out there for this--I finally wrote some action. And I mean REAL action. With this said, younglings, beware...
In addition, I would just like to dedicate this ficlet to roundcheese who helped me through the process, and encouraged me to no ends. In addition, she is just the fuel to this fandom, and my flame would have gone out quite a bit had it not been for her.
I. Have. To. Leave.
You couldn't understand--I must leave now before it's too late. I can hardly see anything in front of me--it's as though I'm drunk.
One foot in front of the other I stumble into the unknown. I escape into the darkness.
Really, there is nowhere else I can go. My thoughts are completely without meaning, purpose or control. All I can think about is Anakin, standing there--practically a present for the taking.
I had never been so close to the edge before. I had always considered myself a patient person who had restraint.
But not now.
Not after what I had seen. I knew that if I had stayed in that hallway--no, that ship, for a moment longer there would have been no going back.
And so, completely disregarding the weather, I do something completely foolish and ignorant. I walk alone, unprotected, through the wilds of the planet. Something, my mind notes dimly, that only Anakin would do.
I was shocked when Obi-Wan stepped into the shower. It was as though my prayers had been answered--at last, my mind yelled--there will be no more of this! There will be no more restraint, and meditation, and passionless existence. There would have been no denial.
There would have been only us.
I could see the desire in his eyes. It flickered, at first, and then roared into life as though it only needed a single spark. Like dry tinder, waiting for just one light. I would have liked to explore those emotions--in a physical way--had the shower door not then been slammed in my face.
But, as it was, I found myself quite suddenly alone.
At first I was just mildly shocked, and overheated--not by the temperature of the water. I felt as though someone had flicked a switch on in me a second too late, and everything sprung to life. Waves of hotness poured over me, and everything began to tingle with a fiery hot sensation of wetness and pleasure.
I waited for it to pass, slowly closing my eyes and concentrating my power onto something else--anything else besides the look in Obi-Wan's eyes.
For once, I knew I hadn't imagined it.
Eventually, I had to use cold water, because meditation alone could not overpower the desire.
When I finally emerged from the shower I was mildly surprised to have found my master not in the ship. Surely, he would not have left me? He was never one to take off without telling me! Only, I supposed, for matters of the greatest importance would he leave.
And so, here I was alone.
I sat down, staring into the falling twilight just beyond the translucent paneling, allowing my thoughts to drift slowly back over the scattered memories that had somehow made me fall in love with my master. I didn't know how long I had felt this way towards him--but I knew that over the course of these many solitary years that emotion had always been guiding me on.
It hadn't been until three years ago that I had wanted to touch him. That I had wanted to feel him atop me. At the time I wasn't sure what these emotions were, or sensations. Jedi usually leave puberty to its own pathway--and I certainly found mine by lusting over my master. I found it, all right.
But I was careful to hide it.
Or so I thought.
Looking back on that time I don't know how my master put up with his young Padawan who obviously had a crush on him! I shake my head and tried not to think of that.
It is something completely different now, these feelings I have for him. I still love him, yes. But I am not afraid anymore to touch him, to want to hold him, to want to screw him so badly that his voice becomes a dull rasp, repeating my name over and over...
I want him to know how long I have wanted him.
Because I am getting tired of controlling my emotions--especially when it comes to a man who is obviously attracted to me as well.
Ah, Obi-Wan has so much more restraint that I would.
But now, we are beyond that. That moment in the shower--how can he deny that he is not attracted to me? When I noticed his very evident erection? I may not be the quickest Jedi ever--but nonetheless, even I noticed that. The man cannot hide any longer from what is before us--and when he returns, I intend to make that fully known.
The farce is over, Obi-Wan.
These games we played have ended.
When Obi-Wan arrived back at the ship, he had calmed down somewhat. Three oddly spent hours traipsing about the desert, reaching a small settlement, and proceeding on to (most likely) taking one too many shots of alcohol--would calm anyone down sufficiently.
Yet, even with the alcohol, he had not managed to forget the reason for the night's escapades. He reminded himself, as he approached the small hill behind which the ship was landed--that he had left for a reason. A reason he could not explain to Anakin, of course--but there had to be some excuse.
What he finally managed as a plausible idea was that he had received a transmission that required him to--er--go out in the middle of the night?
That was utterly absurd! Even Anakin wouldn't buy that!
Well, he decided; if Anakin asked where he had been, he would simply assert his authority and reply, "I was out" or, "I went for a walk". Or something to that degree.
What would Anakin care anyway? The boy trusted him, didn't he? The only need for worry would have been if he hadn't returned by morning--and that certainly wasn't the case either.
It wasn't even midnight.
Upon clearing the hill, the Jedi master stopped in his tracks. He certainly hadn't expected this.
The fact that Anakin was sitting outside the ship, wrapped in a blanket. And watching him.
Obi-Wan blinked. What was happening? Why was Anakin outside? Had he burned the meal again?
Vague thoughts of another sort quickly surfaced into consciousness but were quickly suppressed. But that was insane, he told himself--just don't think about that any more. He had just spent the last two hours wandering about the desert in hopes to stifle those insane desires.
Intaking a large amount of breath, and hoping that he was relatively composed, Obi-Wan continued his way down the small slope and toward the direction where his young Padawan lay calmly sitting--waiting for him.
Little did the Jedi master know what his young apprentice had in store.
Anakin watched his master slowly make his way across the remaining terrain, his eyes never leaving the target. He was like some untamed animal stalking its prey in the dead of night. One movement, and then another, so softly and silently that before the helpless creature knew its fate--it would be too late.
And there would only be him. There would be no more chasing. The hunt would be over.
Anakin could tell that his master was disturbed to find him waiting for him outside the ship. Never had he done such a thing before. He always had faith in his master to return safely and never worry over his absence for too long.
But this evening was not like other times.
To the young Padawan the time ticked away with interminable slowness that slowly brought him and his temper to the brink of insanity. With each second he watched his master's feet fall upon the dry soil, one after another, until...at last...
The two were facing each other; and Anakin at last knew the meaning of temptation. It stood in front of him with troubled eyes.
"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan whispered softly, and Anakin noticed that his master seemed surprised by the quality of his own voice. It was gruff, deep, and darker than anything he had thought possible. Even his voice could not hide the temptation.
Once again a dull humming began to issue forth through Anakin's body. Once again that switch had been flicked inside him. Once more he felt himself loosing what little control he had.
How innocent it had all started out, this game of theirs. Like any other, Jedi Master and Padawan learner. But now it was something different. The emotion in him was one that was not allowed in his world--it was a primal and feral instinct. An instinct he had to visibly choke back when he answered tersely, "I'm waiting."
"For me?" Obi-Wan questioned gently, smiling a soft and false beam, "You know I would have been fine...come on, let's get inside."
Quickly the master brushed past his student who was still resting beside the ship. Anakin's dark eyes never left his side. The humming inside the boy only grew louder, but this time tinged with anger. To be so simply cast aside by his mentor, to be mocked for his desire, and then his presence momentarily forgotten was unforgivable! Especially when Anakin knew the excuse for the cold demeanor.
Nonetheless, he followed his master dutifully, moody and snappish. How was it that Obi-Wan, his superior, could be so innocent and not know that the mere sight of him was tempting? The flash of collarbone, his passing scent, and the wry smirk he anxiously cast towards his upset companion.
"What's troubling you, Anakin?" Obi-Wan questioned at length, after finding himself a cup of something warm to drink.
Give me patience, Anakin swore to himself stalking the length of the ship towards his master, his cloak flowing behind him, even in the small space. Each stride was long, purposeful and with every intent to show his anger. But what Anakin reached where his master now lay seated at the small table, he could not face him. No, his declaration would have to be a coward's one—for he could not look Obi-Wan in the eye.
"You!" Anakin spat, his back facing him, "You are what has always been bothering me…!" The form of the apprentice was utterly still. Even his breathing was indiscernible in the quiet. There was only the swarm of anger and condemned passion that whirled around his disturbed body.
Had Anakin been facing his master he would have noticed the spark of emotion that appeared on his face but was quickly extinguished. Superiority replaced hurt, distance replaced compassion, and the two were even further apart. Nonetheless, Obi-Wan could not distance himself at such a length to not be flustered by his apprentice's brazen confession.
Fumbling for words, Obi-Wan sputtered, "Well, I--"
Yet Obi-Wan never finished the sentence for quite suddenly there was familiar warmth about him. Anakin has never been one to beat around the bush for long. Like everything about him-- Anakin met it head on, and so when Obi-Wan felt Anakin's hot wandering lips upon his own--somehow, the master was not surprised. It was Anakin's brazen nature that had first attracted him.
The dark, enraged passion drew me, ever deeper, guiding me on into a place that only my private dreams had ever dared to explore. Wet hotness seared my lips that were slowly pried open by the strength and will of Anakin. It was an angry kiss--frustrated, in a way that I could understand. Years of denial, years of restraint! Years of refusal were expressed through the movement of our bodies which slowly grew closer as the exploration grew ever more adventurous.
Throughout it all, the pressure continued, slowly at first and then with greater hurry--as though Anakin was afraid he would loose this moment forever. Dimly, I felt the impressions of rough-pleading-desperate fingers digging into my back drawing me closer, clutching the fabric, extinguishing the gap between us.
But my final betrayal was when a moan of pleasure sneaked through my lips and disturbed our heavy breathing. Yet, this response only served to heighten Anakin's passion and he buried his hands in my hair, pressing the two of us together, gasping at the sensation of my body pressing against his now obvious arousal.
His scent was intoxicating me; soon I would not even have a conscience for what I did to him. I just wanted him--he probably didn't even know how badly.
When Anakin spoke his voice was dark, dripping with passion and triumph, "There--Obi-Wan, even you cannot deny that..."
True. Even I could not ignore the fact that I had reciprocated the kiss. It certainly hadn't been one sided at all. And yet, how was it that this path had to be so much harder than the path I ought to follow. The path of limitations! "Anakin..." I began tentatively, my breath still ragged and rough, "You don't understand, I am you're master..."
Words fail me.
"I know. I've spent the two years thinking about it...about you..." He leaned forward again kiss my neck, separating what little distance is between us, continuing on in his honest way, "...and me. Together."
He is more brazen than I ever expect as he sneaks his hand beneath my robes sweeps across the inside of my thigh. "I know I want you...if you want me." He stands and puts his hands on my shoulders. My eyes are now level with his navel and all my conscious thought goes skipping along that dark path. "Do you?" he asks.
There is no question. Of course I want him. What more is there to say? How can I explain that I have dreamt of this moment for just as long as my apprentice so obviously has? How can he say that this past minute has been like something out of my dirty sexually frustrated dreams? Even the Force cannot control one's sexual urges. Meditation has not been only for peace of mind--but for peace of body. Truly, this boy has driven me out of mind with desire.
And how can I answer? How can I look into his eyes and say--"Anakin, I want you." And very badly at that.
My stomach lurches and at last I brutally kiss my name from Anakin's parted-lips as the last traces of that once very distinct line separating us dissolves into nothingness. Anakin presses against me and his smooth warm skin melts into mine perfectly. My senses become befuddled; my mind goes spinning into madness for one brief ecstatic moment. At last, Anakin crushes his mouth against mine and I can feel his hands desperately tugging at the chord to my pants.
Moaning against Anakin's lips, I open my mouth for his tongue pushed its way in, kissing him back so hard it almost hurt. Held down by the strong wrists down on either side of his body, I am rendered nearly incapable of movement, although for his part, Anakin showed no sign of wishing me to. No, in this case, student and truly surpassed master.
I look up at Anakin and mean to damn him for ruining me. For the moment, I can only manage profound gratitude. He has saved me from myself--and, I suppose, I have done the same way.
In one fluid motion, we tumbled to the floor, a desperate tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and passionate gasps. I surprise myself by quickly sliding off Anakin's robes. Soon, he is naked beneath me and at last I can slowly intake that body which I have only seen at glances. Tonight, we will hide nothing from each other. Somehow, I note dimly, he has managed to be on top. When, finally, we are completely naked and lying against one another we both still, simply absorbing the sensation of the other's skin against our own. It does not seem real.
Anakin at last stirred from our warm embrace as he began to run his fingers along my body. It has been years since I have been caressed--that my body has been explored, pried open, destroyed, and healed. Anakin watched me with his eyes, never leaving my face--enjoying the reaction that he caused. I hear his name about me and I realize that I am calling out in desire. First my collarbone, as his fingers trailed along the left side of his body, flicking gently over a defined nipple. His touch is whispering lightly against my stomach, and finally scorching like fire against his hip and down to my thigh. At last we come down to it.
He reaches his arms out to welcome me. I surrender to my fall.
Bathed even in the fluorescent lamplight, he looks like a god above me, his lips swollen from my kisses, his skin heated. The naïve, innocent boy of his past was gone. He is at last a man--and somehow, tonight, I know this will be the end of our training. He is a man who can make his decisions, strong and independent.
For some odd reason, he wanted me.
He enters me hard and rough, painful and damning. I swear slightly, and grip his body against me--holding him ever tighter, as though without his lips and legs I would be nothing. Merely a mass of flesh. But Anakin wields me as he would a sword and he grips me tighter, whispering my name, pressing his lips to my neck as the pounding sensation begins to ignite every sense within me.
Feverish whispers, desperate moans, and the continual rocking cradle the two of us. He pushes into me harder and deeper until it feels as though I will break in two. Yet, the pain melts quickly into pleasure with each continual thrust. He continues to whispers things in my ear--things that through my blinded desire I can only half make out.
All I know is him. All I can think of is him.
But when has this ever been any different? Now, I can only feel his chest pressed tightly against my back--his strong arms gripping my body, his legs pressing into my thighs, urging me ever forward to the brink of beautiful destruction.
Our pace continues, gathering speed and inertia, and I am only half-conscious of our bodies, all I can feel is the pleasure scorching through my veins. My body is dripping with sweat, his and mine alone, and we in this act of darkness we find solace. In every movement, in every caress, I know that I go against an order that I have pledged allegiance to.
And yet, he draws me ever forth until I cannot remember my own name.
All I know is Anakin, all I feel is him atop me, his voice in my ears, his wet hair against my skin tracing circles and random patterns.
At last we reach the brink, the edge at which I have walked so many times. We have reached the point beyond no return--and with this last and final thrust, as contentment and satisfaction course through my body, I know that I have reached a point that even with the passage of time cannot blemish. Whatever may happen, whatever trials may befall us, for the moment, the two of us tangled in each other's arms, this is enough to guide me through life.
I take his head and tilt it towards mine, a grin gracing my features--and I kiss him, hard, and long. And yet the emotion between us is strangely soft, and gentle. What we have done may have be an act of the physical, for pleasure only--but this kiss we share is the emotion that has guided me on...
He returns it in such a way that I know he feels the same.
And I know that these games we have played have ended...
...And yet, they are just beginning.