Title: Republic Day

Author: pronker

Era: Anakin is nineteen.

Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas and make no profit from this fanfiction set in his Star Wars.

Summary: Obi-Wan suffers, Anakin comforts. Repeat as necessary. Slash.

IOIOIOIOIO

"Too heavy in the bust."

"Is there such a thing as too heavy in the bust?"

"Yes. She's unbalanced to look at."

Anakin rubbed the pads of his flesh fingers together. "Looking is not what I'm thinking of. And what about motorboating betw- "

"Padawan!"

"Keep your voice down, Master. Her earstalks are oscillating your way."

The Republic Day Beauty Contest hopefuls paraded on and on. By another half hour, an attractive face and figure were just a collection of features to Anakin. He'd been athrill at becoming a Senior Padawan the year before, yet discovered that some new duties were onerous. He wasn't sure about judging the beauty contest: yes, the Jedi were the logical choices due to their galaxy-spanning travels, but didn't Jedi asceticism come into play somehow? Master had said that the Jedi and the Senate - and through the Senate, the Republic - were linked in ways that reminded him of tentacles, ever writhing and re-defining themselves. Anakin thought Master was confusing tentacles with shapeshifters, but held his tongue. The parade continued.

"Her spiracles aren't evenly spaced. I'm crossing her off the list."

Anakin shot a discerning glance towards the stage. "Wait. Aren't her antennae gleaming more than the last Verpine's? And he slid far closer to the male spectrum end of inter- intersex - intersexualityism than she does. Did. Something." He took a breath. "I like that in her." He took a deeper breath and met Obi-Wan's eyes. "I Sense that this individual Verpine has committed to her function and role in her society and won't be shifting her preferences like the other one. I like that, too. And I am half of the judging team. Master." After the thirty-third talent display included bird calls mixed with yodeling, this had to end sometime. Anakin schemed to dismiss himself and Obi-Wan from the chore of judging. He wanted someone real tonight, someone he could hold, and Padmé was available for a brief window. "I think," he said slowly, "that we ought to favor the alien species. It would be a true stretch of Jedi sensibilities and our own species-central thinking as human Jedi to select this Verpine as Ms. Republic, Master." Oh, being nineteen and a Senior Padawan had to mean something, had to make a difference.

"The term is 'intersexuality', Padawan, and I see we shall have to meditate on the imprudence of limiting ourselves in our perceptions of our psyches. But later. For now" - Obi-Wan grinned like a beam of starlight - "I see your point. Thank you." He performed what should have been impossible: a seated kowtow. "The student teaches the Master."

Anakin lowered his gaze, picturing Padmé's soft arms opening wide. "You're welcome, my Master."

IOIOIOIOIO

"Huh-huh-huh-shroomuhmuh! Kaff! Kaff! Ghods, this is teddible, Adakid."

"You must have picked up something at the fireworks display just after sundown. It's seasonal, how cold it's getting after dark." Anakin tucked in the softest pasmina throw he could find around his Master's stockinged feet and straightened. "Here."

Obi-Wan accepted the steaming infusion of tarine tea. "Thanks." He drank deeply. "You're a good Padawad, Padawad."

Anakin caught the edge of Obi-Wan's smile as he leaned behind him to fluff the many sofa pillows in their chintz shams. Obi-Wan was demonstrative like this only in extreme circumstances, which these weren't. Anakin supposed that the faint emotional glimmer in Obi-Wan's aura was due to his appreciation of his Padawan's care and comfort. He'd take the time to pursue the reason for the feelings, but Padmé was waiting.

"Ahh, thad's bedder. I thig id's goig to ibprove - ibprove - ibkershrooop! Blast."

Obi-Wan sounded worse. Anakin glimpsed himself in the ceiling-to-floor mirrored tiles behind the sofa that Obi-Wan said made their modest common room appear larger. To himself, he looked ruefully rumpled. His evening was eroding as he watched. It was time for action. He straddled the striped satin occasional chair. "So. No temperature. No fuzzy spots of recurring Togorian measles."

"Doe, thag you veddy budch. Wudce ber lifetibe of thad is blenty." Obi-Wan sniffed. "Id's allergies, bust be."

Anakin drummed his fingers against the rounded ebony chairback. "So."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "So?"

The evening was fading fast. Anakin thought faster. "So K'ddiddik was exceptionally happy to be crowned Ms. Republic by you, Baster, uh, Master. The Force was singing around her."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to comment, then stopped. Another sneeze shook a pillow loose from supporting his back. Anakin replaced it. Obi-Wan wiped his streaming eyes. "I caught scend of her addraction pherobodes as da Verbine rudder-up hugged her. Sub erodically charged horbodes bay have godden indo by systeb whed I idhaled da irridand. She bight nod eved hab dode she was doig id herself. Thad's id." He closed his eyes, as did Anakin, and the Force wove their weft into its warp.

"Yes!" they chorused.

There was a new hope for the evening yet. Anakin dashed into the refresher. "Citron? Puce? Umber? Chartreuse?"

"Doe, Adakid, doe! Da bink wuds! Da broad-spect- spec- sp- !"

"Never mind! I get it!" Anakin was back in a flash. "Here." Obi-Wan gulped down two candy floss-colored pills, swallowing some water with a clash of tonsils. Anakin relaxed, smiling beatifically. He took Obi-Wan's glass to their kitchen sink, settling it next to tonight's dinner dishes. Eh, cleanup could wait; his desire for Padme couldn't. He glanced at the wall chrono over the crumb-littered lammaswood dining table. His smile vanished as if into hyperspace. Republic Day? Today was Republic Day, the day of the time change? He moaned at his distraction over the beauty contest. Of course today was the time change day! He'd forgotten and now he'd reaped the consequences, just like Obi-Wan was always lecturing him he would at some point. Being a Senior Padawan didn't mean that he'd never err, Obi-Wan had told him, only that he'd see the Force more clearly than as a Junior Padawan. He sighed. This evening was spoilt. He'd been right the first time. He held onto his crabby feelings longer than a Senior-Padawan-for-a-year should have.

Thumbing off the kitchen light, he pictured Padmé long abed. There was a power breakfast at an unghodly hour tomorrow and her time was limited, she'd said with the smile that had enchanted him at nine years of age, but she'd carve out an hour just for him. One hour. And it had departed. This day couldn't get any worse. The early-on fun of the beauty contest and very real sense of satisfaction over solving Obi-Wan's problem dribbled into a sludge that mired his steps. It was to be an evening of watching the holo-news and most likely turning in early at tenth hour. Obi-Wan was probably in his slippersox by now.

A strange scene awaited him in the common room. Obi-Wan had stopped undressing at his undershorts. "No, on second thought I'll leave these on." He played with a tube of something in front of Anakin's nonplused gaze. "Do you know why I'm doing this?"

"I can't think." The aura of his Master had gotten brighter and harder since Anakin had stepped into the kitchen, with a dominant violet ripple around its edges. He sighed again. Another new side effect of Obi-Wan's allergy medicine had struck back at Healer Vokara Che's prescription, this time in conjunction with the Verpine hormones. It indicated that the various roles that Verpines played in their society, which allowed individuals to be either seed-casters or egg-layers by their hive's current need, had wound up giving Obi-Wan the overpowering urge to role-play for sexual purposes. It might be part of Obi-Wan's cure. As a good Senior Padawan, Anakin ought to play along. He may as well; nothing else was going to happen tonight.

Obi-Wan's innate courtesy prevented him from outright hysteria, but it was a near thing. "You've got to learn I'm the Master and you're the Padawan, Padawan! Because not only did you foul up the mission but you haven't been sleeping well and because of our bond I haven't been sleeping well either! What is wrong with you?"

This part was true. Anakin couldn't easily tell his Master why he hadn't been sleeping well. Padme took care of his problem when he could stay long enough to play with her, but their few hours together didn't help him at his own Temple home. "Can't wank with this mechno-hand," he mumbled, blushing all the way up and down. "I'm right-handed and it doesn't feel natural, I'm not coordinated enough with the left, it -"

"Oh, for the love of - Anakin! It's just another kata to learn!" Obi-Wan flounced on the sofa and pulled Anakin onto his lap. "Here! I will teach and you will learn, young one. Now lean back between my legs."

Anakin scrambled to obey like a good Padawan, smirking to himself. "Please show me, Master," he begged with genuine-sounding contrition. "I can't do it without you. I'll do anything you want later!"

Obi-Wan's bluster continued. Anakin wondered if Obi-Wan had always wanted to break every Mastering rule that Qui-Gon had exemplified. It would seem so. "You bet you will. Now clear your mind." Obi-Wan pressed inward with the Force through their training bond and showed Anakin some truly outrageous fantasies that Obi-Wan had about his ripe Senior Padawan. It didn't matter if they were Verpine-induced; these were good.

Anakin closed his eyes and flattened his shields. Scene after scene washed over him. Wow. Anakin began to squirm.

"I shan't spoil the kata with superfluous words. Do what I tell you when I tell you to do it." Obi-Wan yanked down Anakin's leggings to his thighs and pulled roughly at Anakin's cock with his left hand as he braced his back against the armrest to gain leverage. He Force-clamped Anakin's own left hand on top of his. "Open your eyes! Look at what I'm doing and you do the same."

"Guh," said Anakin, his initial smirk at his submissive words evaporating. "So close, Master, please please please - I'll never disobey again I've learned my lesson I'll make Knight - "

Through their open bond, Obi-Wan sensed his Padawan's remnant of distraction. "Focus, Anakin! Or I won't finish it!"

"Focusing n-now, Master! Ugghn!" Anakin would come or die in the next five seconds. He decided to come as his last conscious thought. He slumped and gasped against his Master's chest, safe in strong arms as his vigor left him along with his seed.

Something stirred against Anakin's backside.

"Finish your kata," Obi-Wan commanded as he flipped open the lube's cap. "Quickly, now!"

Anakin shot out of his smoky reverie. "Um, wait a minute, Master. What's the, oh what is it called, safe word?"

Practicality reached through to the real Obi-Wan. "'Swamp apple'."

"That's two words."

"'Partypooper', then."

"That's too longahhhhh! Master!"

Anakin never thought to hear a growl from Obi-Wan's cultured lips. The man completely dominated him, never breaking touch as he Force-whisked off Anakin's tunic, boots and leggings, leaving only underwear. Then that was ripped away, too, Through the haze of sex permeating their bond, Anakin barely registered the separate incidents: the fingering, the loosening, the positioning on hands and knees. It was true, the lube and the lust eased any pain at his Master's entry. Anakin's stomach fluttered with thrill after thrill after the first stockstill minute of getting used to the newness of it. His cheek hit the pasmina throw and he moaned as his thoughts centered on the one place in his body that opened to receive his Master's instruction. With the ease of entry came the realization that this kata was one of the most important ones that Anakin had ever attempted. And he knew that Obi-Wan would not let his Padawan down, not now, not in any foreseeable future. As much as ever, the Master/Padawan relationship proved to be the utmost in personal instruction in the ways of the Force. This was a fact, and no play about it. "That's it, you're getting it, take it all, yes, my Padawan."

Obi-Wan babbled about something, but Anakin was thinking about how much he had longed for this, the trust, the domination, the surety of guidance. It was more than he could handle and he almost cried because he was so happy in his role. He felt Obi-Wan rock backwards until there was nothing left of himself in Anakin and then he surged forward. Which fantasy would Obi-Wan pursue next, Anakin wondered, which delight would his Master indulge in? He crumpled in the contemplation of it.

Anakin's nose bumped into the pasmina throw with each thrust of his powerful Master and the laundry additives that all Jedi used for strict cleanliness wafted up into his nostrils. He felt the tickle of an oncoming sneeze. "Oh, not now, not when my lesson is not nearly finished, Master will not take kindly to this," he mumbled half out loud, but he couldn't help his body's reaction. It was as natural as anything ever got in this galaxy. "Huhsoohuu!" Anakin cringed upward on wobbly wrists but the efforts were for naught as Obi-Wan pushed him further along the sofa. "Ahhhhshropppf!" Even after his health crisis, how strong he is today, how good he is for me. Anakin paid greater attention to this lesson than he had to any other one in his Jedi career. "Guhhwoozle!"

Obi-Wan paused because he had to. He couldn't move. How did he know how tight sneezes would make him? He nearly lost it, but it was too good to lose. "Again!"

Must obey, must sneeze, oh, if I can't, what will he do? In a splurge of self-indulgence, Anakin had added extra fabric softener to that week's laundry and the fumes that arose allowed him to oblige. He rubbed his face against the throw and along with the smell of sex there was the biting chemical odor. He assayed another sneeze. "Ooohpahplllshbll!" He controls me even in this. I am one fortunate apprentice.

Obi-Wan changed position, arching backwards against the armrest as he handled Anakin as he would a large stringed instrument, splaying out the long legs to either side of his own hips and strumming the lightly-furred chest. The young man was limp as if he had never sneezed. Obi-Wan reached around but instead of going for the usual spot, he angled his hand upward and tickled Anakin's nose.

"Yes, my Master!" was the shout through the bond, powerful enough to make Anakin hard again. He convulsed with another sneeze and had the ultimate satisfaction of feeling his Master come inside him. This sneezing fantasy had not been in the scenes of Obi-Wan's that he had pushed through their bond. Anakin thought that Obi-Wan's repertoire could stand an expansion. Perhaps, with the return of the Jedi that Anakin knew and understood, these fantasies would enable them both to sleep well every night. Almost as an afterthought, Anakin came.

"I ... you ... erm, good work, Padawan!" Obi-Wan flopped sideways and Anakin rolled away from him, grunting as they parted company. They gasped together. Obi-Wan regained his composure first. "There's always room for improvement in our katas. I shall suggest this to the Council if ever I gain their attention."

Oh, you're the Masteriest Master of the Chosen One. I think they'll pay attention. Anakin ventured forth, a little unsure of his new standing with his Master. How different and improved this evening had turned out from earlier expectations! "I shall tell them also and back you up, as is my place, Master."

There was still some role-playing left in Obi-Wan. "You shall stand silently at my side. It will be a change from your usual self. That will show them by example that you have changed for the better."

It was only right, after all, but a still, small phantom dared to speak with Anakin's voice. "Yes, Master." Anakin played with his braid and tickled Obi-Wan's nose with its end. Obi-Wan glared at him, not yet recharged.

Anakin pulled off Obi-Wan's undershorts and slingshotted them over to the corner. Obi-Wan pulled them back with the Force. Anakin ventured further into this new territory. "So, um, Master, how long do the broad-spectrum pills last?"

"Only about an hour. They're too generic to last long. Why?"

Anakin thought about Verpines, and role switching. "Because if you relapse and start sneezing again, I want to be ready." He rolled onto his side. "I would like you to reverse Jedi roles with me." He smiled that smile that Obi-Wan both loved and despaired of. "Other Senior Padawans talk about jackhammering and I'd like to learn that, too. Teach me?"

IOIOIOIOIO

The End.