Chapter Text
CORUSCANT
Anakin grumbled with frustration, tapping at the controls of the speeder and pulling away from the hanger with reckless speed. Now that he’d landed on Coruscant, finally, he couldn’t wait to get back to Obi-Wan. Coruscant traffic law could go kriff itself. It had been too long since he’d seen his Master—days and days. Now that Sidious was dead, Anakin had wanted to enjoy being able to stand at Obi-Wan’s side, relax in his company.
But no, he’d been sent on a mission almost immediately, and hadn’t seen Obi-Wan for so long.
Anakin huffed again. He was in a mood. His day had just been wizard so far. He’d just gotten off the com with kriffing Vos and kriffing Ventress—two of Anakin’s least favorite people, now under his command. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful that Obi-Wan had put him in charge of his new Sith Order, it was just… Did it have to be them?
He sighed and swerved underneath and around traffic like it was a podrace. It was easier for him to think of them as Darth Kryptos and Darth Sestra. They were doing good work, he had to give them credit for that. Kryptos had been tracking a young, kidnapped Twi’lek girl, and uncovered a brothel on Corellia full of underage sex slaves.
His anger, apparently, had been something beautiful to behold.
Sestra was sure that his fall to the dark side was imminent, and was happily helping him along. Anakin had approved, feeling unexpectedly grateful that she’d received training from Dooku. As much as Anakin had loathed Dooku, he had to acknowledge that he had mastery of the dark side of the Force, and he was glad that it would have a lineage into the future.
Anakin wondered if Barriss had returned to Coruscant or stayed on Kadavo with the other younglings. They had all been offered a choice—study the way of the Jedi on Kadavo, prepare for a life of meditation and peacekeeping missions, or return to Coruscant to study the way of the Sith, and prepare for a life of vengeance and liberation.
If Barriss had come back, Anakin would happily offload the day-to-day interaction with Kryptos and Sestra to her. She could handle it. Ahsoka was handling the new Jedi Order just fine. It grated on Anakin that she wasn’t his Apprentice anymore, but he recognized that she had more than earned a Knighthood. She didn’t need him.
Anakin felt his lower lip begin to pout, and pulled it back in. He felt so restless, his brain felt so noisy. He felt so stressed, so out of control. He was chased by a feeling of guilt and regret at Rex’s death that he couldn’t shake. He should have been there.
He needed to get back to Obi-Wan. He knew that Obi-Wan would help make everything alright.
According to his last message, Obi-Wan was in Chancellor Palpatine’s old office in the former Republic Executive Building. Anakin wasn’t sure why he was even there—the new Supreme Chancellor’s office and the headquarters of the new Sith Order were located in the renovated Jedi Temple. Sidious had begun the work, and Obi-Wan had approved the plans, with some alterations.
At least it was an easy and familiar path to take to Palpatine’s old suite in the Executive Building. Anakin had spent so many hours there as a Padawan and as a Knight, he could probably navigate the building blindfolded. He parked and hastened to the lift, feeling his excitement rising as he began to feel Obi-Wan’s proximity in the Force. He entered the familiar red rooms and felt a pang of guilty nostalgia, quickly brushed aside.
Obi-Wan was sitting at Palpatine’s desk with his feet up on the desk, looking wistful. Anakin felt a surge of affection so strong it made Obi-Wan blink and focus on him as he approached. “Anakin, hello there.”
Anakin came to a stop and stood in front of the desk, jokingly standing at attention like a soldier. He felt like he was vibrating, his mind was racing, he couldn’t settle. “Supreme Chancellor.”
Obi-Wan shook his head fondly, and took his feet off the desk. “Everything went smoothly on your trip?”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin nodded eagerly, wanting Obi-Wan to be pleased. “The cloning facility was run by some sleemo named Gallius Rax…” He trailed off, distracted and unable to continue. He felt a surge of horror as the guilt and shame rose, desperate to avoid thinking about it, ignore and avoid it.
Obi-Wan stood and came around the desk, reaching out and pulling him into a hug, holding him tight. “I’m so sorry about Rex, Anakin.”
Anakin’s eyes watered, and he looked at the ceiling, trying to keep himself under control. “It wasn’t fair.”
“It wasn’t,” Obi-Wan agreed immediately.
“I should have been there.” Anakin’s voice was thick, and growing thicker. He didn’t want to do this. He was back with Obi-Wan. He wanted to be happy, but he wasn’t. “I abandoned him, I abandoned them all, Obi-Wan. It’s my fault he died.”
“Anakin—” Obi-Wan sounded so concerned.
Anakin cut him off, his emotions spiking. “I should have been faster. I should have been there. I promised him, Master. I promised him on Arantara that a leader leads from the front. I should have remembered they were in danger. I shouldn’t have held us up in the hallway.”
Obi-Wan’s hug tightened, holding him close and stroking his back. “Anakin, darling, be calm.”
Anakin pressed his face into Obi-Wan’s neck, hiding from everything. His voice was muffled against Obi-Wan’s skin. “He shouldn’t have died.”
“I know,” Obi-Wan said gently, rubbing his back reassuringly. “It was Darth Sidious who gave the orders to the ships that killed him, Anakin. Not you, and not me. It was Sidious’s last revenge, but Anakin—Rex died protecting millions of lives. His death was not in vain, and I should think he wouldn’t regret a soldier’s death with honor.”
“Well, he’s dead,” Anakin sniffed. “He can’t regret anything.”
“Anakin, my love,” Obi-Wan said, voice so soothing, his presence in the Force so calming. “I truly am sorry.”
Anakin tried to regain his composure, pulling away and fixing his posture, drying his eyes roughly with the backs of his hands. Obi-Wan’s touch was always so grounding, so reassuring, but he still felt scattered and upset.
Obi-Wan’s voice was apologetic. “I do still need to know about your trip.”
Ankain nodded and took a deep breath. “Gallius Rax said that a planet named Jakku is primed to explode, did you know? Sidious put some Sith relics in a cache there. I ordered Kryptos and Sestra to look into it, was that alright?”
Obi-Wan nodded, his expression full of concern. “Please tell me you kept this Rax alive.”
“Master, what do you take me for?” Anakin asked, offended. A skeptical pause extended before he scowled. “Well I did! The troopers have him in custody.”
“And did you remember—”
“To keep one of the clone bodies?” Anakin shuddered. “Yes. It was super creepy and gross, Master.”
“We need the biological evidence to stage the speeder crash, you know that.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Without proof of death, his location will haunt my attempts to govern.”
Anakin grimaced, bearing the bad news. “Well, the troopers said they were all strand cast, so they’re not true identical clones.”
“That is a pity.” Obi-Wan matched his expression, frustrated. “I guess I’ll have to modify the results of the genetic test after all. At least we have a body to stage.”
“Sorry, Master,” Anakin said, looking at the floor and kicking the carpet with the toe of his boot.
Obi-Wan sat back against the desk, his presence in the Force steady and warm. “Not your doing, love.”
Anakin was quiet for a long moment, and then swallowed nervously. He looked up, voice hesitant. “Obi-Wan, I did everything you asked, I did it perfectly right.”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan affirmed, surrounding him with approval in the Force, making Anakin’s spine tingle. “Thank you, Anakin. You did very well.”
“I was good.” Anakin said the words like he was making an argument.
Obi-Wan gave him a bemused smile. “Yes, you were good.”
“Do you…” Anakin squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “Do you remember what you said I got when I was good?”
Obi-Wan was quiet, and then amused. “You think you’ve earned a reward.”
“Yes!” Anakin tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice. “Please.”
Obi-Wan stood, and began to walk in a circle around him, studying him. “I see now, you’ve needed this for awhile, haven’t you?” Anakin nodded jerkily, his hands twitching. Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. “I can tell, you’re vibrating out of your skin aren’t you, darling? You feel restless, and so worried. You need me to make it right.”
“Yes.” Anakin felt his face begin to get hot.
Obi-Wan placed a hand gently on face, his thumb running over Anakin’s blush. “You really have done well, Anakin.”
“Thank you, Master,” Anakin whispered, and pressed his head into Obi-Wan’s hand affectionately.
“But…” Obi-Wan’s hand slid down and gripped Anakin’s jaw tightly, tipping his head to look intently into his eyes. “You have also disappointed me.” He said these words like he was agreeing to give Anakin everything he needed.
Anakin read his intention in the Force, and beamed. He was sure that his happiness and anticipation were radiating back through the bond, and Obi-Wan’s lips twitched up for a moment before the warmth began to fade from his eyes, and his jaw clenched. Maintaining eye contact, he lifted his free hand, squeezing it into a tight fist. Anakin felt the security system go dead, and swallowed thickly.
Obi-Wan’s other hand on Anakin’s jaw began to tighten more, pulling his face closer, his expression mild. Anakin’s stomach dropped, and a shiver went down his spine at the increased pressure of his grip. His cock was already getting so hard, just from a hand on his face.
“Is this the room where it happened?” Obi-Wan asked, in a tone so friendly and conversational that Anakin gulped.
“Where what happened, Master?”
“Where you knelt before another man and called him Master, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s tone became more icy, and his hand slid from Anakin’s jaw to his neck, pressing his thumb hard on Anakin’s pulse. “Was it here?”
“Oh,” Anakin said quietly, feeling a flood of guilt and shame. His knees felt weak, but Obi-Wan held him in place by the neck.
Obi-Wan repeated himself, tightening his hold and shaking Anakin slightly. “Was it?”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin whispered.
“Where?”
Anakin blinked, confused. “Where what?”
“Where did you kneel?” Obi-Wan’s tone was dipping rapidly from mild to dangerous.
Anakin blushed at his tone, his cock throbbing. He gestured further into the room. “Over h-here, Master.”
“Really?” Obi-Wan sounded genially interested. He walked them toward the spot, his grip on Anakin’s neck painfully tight.
Once Anakin was standing in the same place that he remembered kneeling, Obi-Wan roughly let go. Anakin staggered slightly and met his eyes, trying to make Obi-Wan understand that he knew he’d done wrong. “I’m so sorry, Master. I am, I…”
Obi-Wan’s eyes were so gold, so intent. “Prove it.”
“Wh-what?”
Obi-Wan gave him a disappointed look. “Prove that you’re sorry, Anakin.”
“How, Master?” Anakin’s cock was throbbing, his mouth felt so clumsy as he spoke.
Obi-Wan ordered, his tone wintery, “Strip.”
Anakin hastily moved his hands to his belt, unfastening it and dropping it to the floor. He shrugged off his tabards and tunics, pushing his pants down and kicking them off. Obi-Wan’s eyes tracked their path, and he gave Anakin an unimpressed look that made Anakin’s cock throb.
He resisted touching himself, and squared his shoulders. “What next, Master?”
Obi-Wan smirked at him. “Open your mouth, Padawan. Suck my cock.”
Anakin’s knees felt weak, and he sunk to the floor. He wanted to rub himself against Obi-Wan’s shiny leather boots, but held as still as he could. He swallowed and looked up, eyes wide. “Please.”
Obi-Wan pushed his tabards out of the way to unfasten his pants and pull out his cock. He pumped his hand over it a few times thoughtfully. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, Anakin. You will relax and take it.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin panted, eyes fixed on Obi-Wan’s hands. He began sucking saliva into his mouth, used to the routine and wanting to be good, so good for Obi-Wan.
“Open,” Obi-Wan ordered, and Anakin relaxed his jaw, showing Obi-Wan his tongue, slick with spit. “Very good, Anakin.”
Anakin whined, his hips flexing involuntarily and cock throbbing.
Obi-Wan slid an open hand gently into Anakin’s curls, and then closed his fist, gripping tight and tugging. Anakin let his head be tipped into the right position, felt his neck extend. His breathing was shallow, and he tried to get as much air as he could.
Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked between his own, and back down to his open mouth. Anakin blinked up at him, trying to fill the Force around them with his approval, his need.
“Relax,” Obi-Wan said, voice intent. “Padawan mine.”
Anakin’s eyes fluttered closed as Obi-Wan pushed the head of his cock into his mouth, using his grip on his hair to pull his face closer. He moaned at the sharp sensation of his hair being pulled, and Obi-Wan’s hips jerked forward, his cock hitting the back of his throat. Anakin resisted the urge to gag, his practice taking over and letting Obi-Wan’s cock slide in deep.
Obi-Wan made a low noise of approval in his throat, his other hand sliding into Anakin’s curls to join the other, grabbing and holding him still by his hair. Anakin felt boneless, and let Obi-Wan hold him up. The sensation of his hair being pulled, his head being moved, and Obi-Wan’s thick cock filling his mouth—it all was so much, so overwhelming.
All of his problems felt like they were sliding away.
He needed to breathe, but he trusted Obi-Wan completely to notice and take care of him, so he relaxed and let Obi-Wan use his mouth however he wanted—let him pleasure himself with his Anakin’s body. It was so much, it was perfect.
Obi-Wan fucked his face for a moment longer and then pulled his cock out. Anakin gasped for air, dizzy with pleasure at being so useful. The moment extended as he caught his breath, and then he looked beseechingly up at Obi-Wan’s stern face. “Please, Master, more.” Obi-Wan’s hands tightened in his hair, and Anakin whined.
Obi-Wan’s voice was rough and low. “Who do you belong to?”
“You,” Anakin said, breathless and so earnest. “Always, you."
Obi-Wan nodded with satisfaction, and pulled Anakin’s mouth back down his cock. Anakin hummed in satisfaction, and let Obi-Wan drag him close. Obi-Wan began to gently fuck his mouth, and Anakin felt complete. He pressed his lips closed and sucked, pleasuring the length of Obi-Wan’s cock as best he could.
Their bond in the Force was writhing and alive, their mutual arousal and affection surrounding and connecting them. It was almost overwhelming, their minds so open to each other and so warm with each others’ presence. Palpatine’s office was so quiet around them, the familiar room almost surreal. Like sucking cock in Jabba’s palace.
Obi-Wan grunted and pulled out, letting Anakin breathe. He stared down at him intently, releasing his tight hold on his curls and gently petting his head instead. Anakin leaned into the soft touch, his chest heaving and his mouth wet. “More, Master?”
“No,” Obi-Wan said, voice full of an emotion that Anakin couldn’t place.
Anakin tried not to whine. “Why?”
Obi-Wan pulled him up by the jaw and held him still. He looked deep into Anakin’s eyes, and spoke, his voice level. “Because now I’m going to fuck you, Anakin.” His hand slid from Anakin’s jaw down to his neck, tightening his hold. "I am going to fuck you, make you whine and cry out for my cock, and then I'm going to choke you, make you see stars."
Anakin let the words wash over him, his cock throbbing. He already felt light-headed, and he leaned desperately into Obi-Wan’s touch. “Thank you, Master.”
Obi-Wan’s hand moved to the back of Anakin’s neck, gripping the nape of his neck and pulling him with him as he began to walk toward the windows. Anakin scrambled to his feet, hastening to keep up. Obi-Wan's voice was almost conversational in tone. “You want to know how I know I will?”
“How, Master?” Anakin asked obediently, letting Obi-Wan direct his body where he wanted.
“I’ve dreamed of this exact moment, Anakin. I’ve dreamed of bending you over the Chancellor’s desk, forcing myself inside as you whined—making you take it, choking you with the Force as you come gasping on my cock.”
Anakin looked at him with wide eyes, his heart pounding. “Really?”
“Yes, Anakin. It’s what I was thinking about when you came in. How many times in my life I’ve come in my hand thinking about here, now, with you.”
Anakin swallowed and looked at Palpatine’s curved metal desk. “Please, will you? I want you to…”
Obi-Wan cut him off, bending him over the desk and pressing his head down roughly, pushing one of Anakin’s cheeks on the cool metal. He held up a hand, using the Force to restrain him in place and bind his hands together. His voice was intent. “Do you see that mirror on the wall, Anakin?”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin whimpered at the sight of himself naked and bent over the Supreme Chancellor’s desk, with still-clothed Obi-Wan behind him, petting his back possessively.
Obi-Wan’s hand slid between Anakin’s legs, tugging gently on his cock and making him whine. “Can you see yourself?”
“Yes, Master.” Anakin rocked his hips back, trying to prepare himself, offer himself. “Please.”
“I want you to watch me fuck you, Padawan,” Obi-Wan instructed, moving his hand to brush against Anakin’s entrance. He was teasing him with gentle touches that did nothing to really open him up, just how Anakin wanted it, needed it. “I want you to keep your eyes on how you look, taking my cock. See how good and useful you are, my darling.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, pushing his hips back and trying to get Obi-Wan’s fingers inside him. "Thank you, Master."
Obi-Wan pulled his fingers away instead, making Anakin whine. Obi-Wan’s voice was a consolation. “You did disappoint me very much, Anakin, but you've very nearly made it up to me. You're doing so well.”
Anakin squirmed involuntarily, trying to get some pressure, any pressure against his cock. Obi-Wan grabbed his hips, holding him still, and then kicked his legs further apart. Anakin could feel the proximity of his cock, and begged, “Please, Master, please, I need—”
“I know what you need.” Obi-Wan said, tone full of promise. He spat in his hand, rubbing and guiding his cock to press against Anakin’s still tight entrance.
Anakin’s breath caught, and he intentionally relaxed all the muscles he knew he needed to—he was good at this, he could take cock so well, he’d had so much practice, he was Obi-Wan’s to use. Obi-Wan seemed to pick up on the thought in the Force, and roughly began to shove the spit-slick head of his cock inside.
The Force around them muddied with Anakin’s pain and gratitude, his discomfort overwhelmed by his sense of rightness, his sense of completion. “More, more, please, Force, more...”
Obi-Wan exhaled hard, and thrust his hips forward, sinking his length inside. Anakin whimpered as he took it, inch by inch, until their hips met. So deep, so full. Obi-Wan paused for a long moment, waiting for Anakin to adjust, and then slid his hips back. Anakin whimpered at the different sensation and then groaned with Obi-Wan fucked back in, harder than before, faster and faster, until the sound of their hips slapping together filled the office.
Anakin’s mind felt so quiet, full of the sensation of Obi-Wan’s thick cock slamming into his ass, making him take it, deep and hard. He wanted it to last forever, he already desperately needed to finish. His mouth felt sloppy and wet, as he panted. “Thank you, Master, thank you.”
He remembered his instructions and watched in the mirror, staring at how he looked, flushed and panting, getting fucked raw over Palpatine’s desk. It was filthy, wrong, perfect, theirs. His eyes shifted back to Obi-Wan’s face, his intent expression, his pink cheeks and golden eyes. He felt his request bubble forth in the Force. Choke me, Master, please. He begged, “Please can you, will you…?”
Their bond was so strong that he could feel the exact moment Obi-Wan realized that he had permission, and began to focus on holding Anakin tightly by the throat with the Force. Anakin gasped and struggled, the moment so perfect, so much, so right.
Sparks began to float in his vision, he felt so light-headed—his cock had never felt so hard, his orgasm building and building. His eyes fluttered shut, despite his intention to watch. Obi-Wan adjusted the angle of his hips slightly to stroke his cock against Anakin's prostate, and Anakin was completely overwhelmed by the feeling. He came, unable to make a sound as his body trembled and tensed on Obi-Wan’s cock.
Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s body tighten down around him, the increased pressure and heat almost overwhelming. It was incredible, perfect, just like he’d expected, hoped, dreamed.
His own orgasm washed over him with an inexorable tug, the tension coiled in his stomach releasing in an incredible wave. The Force was trembling and gleaming between them, their bond so rich with mutual satisfaction. He groaned loudly as he came, losing himself in the incredible feeling of his cock spilling his come so deep inside Anakin’s body.
Anakin whimpered in response, and Obi-Wan released his hold on his throat, letting him breathe.
He looked over at the ornate mirror, meeting his own eyes, burning so gold in the sunset. It felt like he was looking at himself, making eye contact with his own past, touching the consciousness of his sixteen-year-old self. He wanted to laugh. Sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan had no idea what was in store for him, all the pain and all the pleasure. That poor naive child.
He looked away with a sigh. His eyes traced up Anakin’s spine, appreciating the sway of his long back. He pulled out his cock, appreciating the sight of the come that followed, dripping down Anakin’s legs. “Are you alright, Padawan?”
“Yes,” Anakin said happily, rubbing his cheek on the cold metal of the desk. “It was perfect.”
Obi-Wan smiled and pulled one of Anakin’s socks to his hand with the Force, using it to clean them both before shoving it in his pocket. "Hey!" Anakin laughed, full of false indignation. “Was that mine?”
“You’ll live,” Obi-Wan said with a smile, irritating on purpose. He fixed his own clothes, straightening his tabards and then smoothing his hair. “Come on, darling. You must get up.”
Anakin sighed and made no effort to move, his expression dreamy and his body relaxed. Obi-Wan shook his head and pulled him up, sitting them both down in the throne-like desk chair, Anakin curled naked on his lap. Obi-Wan turned the chair so that they could look out over the Coruscant skyline, watching the steady stream of traffic in the orange light of the setting sun.
Anakin shifted in his lap, cuddling up and getting comfortable. He tucked his head into Obi-Wan’s neck, overwhelming the Force with his feeling of being so safe, so secure. He knew who and what he was, and where he was supposed to be.
He murmured through the bond, “I love you, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan stroked his back in appreciation, his fingers lingering on soft, warm skin. “I love you too, Anakin. More than life.”
“More than life.” Anakin agreed, gently kissing Obi-Wan’s neck. He drew in a deep breath, curling into Obi-Wan’s chest even tighter. “More than anything.”
Obi-Wan smiled and tilted his head, kissing Anakin on the top of the head. He noted the fading light of day and hummed thoughtfully. “Do you want to spar before dinner? I could use a fight.”
Anakin pulled his head back from Obi-Wan’s neck. His brows were raised, his eyes bright, his grin blinding. Obi-Wan squeezed him slightly in return, charmed by the reaction, and Anakin huffed a laugh. “Always, Master.”
“Good.” Obi-Wan pressed a gentle kiss to Anakin’s lips. “I was thinking we could find Ahsoka, challenge her to a duel together, see how her Jar’kai is holding up.”
Anakin nodded and hopped off his lap, finding his clothes. He seemed to remember something, and then shot Obi-Wan a grumpy look. “She’s going to use a reverse grip. I hate that you encourage her to do that.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and Anakin complained defensively. “It bothers me!”
“It works for her, and it works well,” Obi-Wan said, adjusting his own robes. “She’ll be better than us, I’m sure of it. I want to see Barriss fight too at some point, has she returned from Kadavo? She’ll be a fine Apprentice for you, a fine leader of the Sith someday.”
“We will raise warriors,” Anakin muttered with a shrug, coming back over for a kiss.
“I think we have a good start,” Obi-Wan agreed quietly, kissing him and handing him his lightsaber with a raised eyebrow.
Anakin just smiled and headbutted him playfully, reattaching the hilt to his belt. Obi-Wan headbutted him back, rolling his eyes and pushing him toward the door. Anakin grinned and stumbled away, and Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling. His husband was such an idiot.
Before they left, Obi-Wan turned and gave Papatine’s office a final survey, smirking with satisfaction. He felt warm with the knowledge that he’d finally caught up with himself, and made it to exactly where he was supposed to be. His life had not turned out the way he'd expected, not at all.
It was so much better.
Fin.