Archive of Our Own

1

Why he had agreed to this, Anakin couldn’t remember. He was sure his past self must’ve seen some kind of positive when he had accepted Quinlan’s invitation for drinks, but to be fair, his past self hadn’t known it was trivia night. Finishing off his second drink, a sparkly pink thing Obi-Wan had ordered for him once- he could never stomach the straight whiskey his Master preferred- he motioned to one of the server droids to bring another.

Aayla’s accented voice came from his left. “Anakin? Any ideas?” She, Quinlan, and Bly looked at him expectantly. Kark.

“Uh, what was the question?” A chorus of groans came from his companions, and he tried his best to look apologetic, but it’s not like he was much help even when he listened. It wasn’t like the questions were about anything actually important; mostly focusing on the kind of stuff Anakin was too busy fighting a war to care about, thank you very much. Giving up on the apologetic look, his face shifted in a pout, “Give me a break! Who cares about this stuff anyway?”

“We do, you fucker!” Quinlan poked him from his seat on Anakin’s right, while Bly just rolled his eyes. Remembering Aayla’s competitive streak from their Padawan days, he avoided eye contact with her while downing his third drink, but could still feel her mild annoyance. Still hates losing then. Anakin could barely believe it, considering all three of them had been just as surprised as him when they found out the bar was doing trivia night, but apparently they were into this kind of thing. When Anakin had offered they just go to a different bar, they had all vehemently shot down the offer.

Due to his lightweight status, he was bordering on drunk, but clearly this night wasn’t going to become more tolerable on its own, so he waved down the server droid again. As annoying as this whole thing was, he still didn’t like letting down his friends, so he finally spoke up, “Okay, okay! I’ll try this time, I’ll listen. I promise. Just don’t be mad at me when they ask another question about a stupid holonovel I don’t know.”

His friends accepted his words with only mild grumbling, laughing at him and turning back to the stage where the bar’s trivia host for the night was readying the next question. For a moment, Anakin thought about the way his friends looked at him with exasperated fondness, and suddenly he was hit with a very strong wave of Kriff, I miss Obi-Wan. He put down his drink, he must be drunker than he thought. Not that he had to be drunk to miss his Master, it happened all the time. Being drunk just made him more likely to tell Obi-Wan those kind of things, which he was just sober enough to still know he wanted to avoid.

“Pay attention, Skywalker.” At least Bly had the decency to lean in and say it quietly, not exposing him to the other two, whose attention was still glued to the stage. The host, a pretty Pantoran with piercings in both her lip and nose, stepped to the microphone and spoke.

“Ooh, this is a good one,” she winked at the crowd and Anakin highly doubted it was going to be good. Aayla turned to glare at him, so he must’ve said that out loud. Oh well, he thought, reaching for his drink again. Why did I put it down in the first place?

He couldn’t help but giggle as he squinted his eyes in an attempt to make the two semi-transparent Pantorans on the stage turn back into one opaque Pantoran. She (they?) leaned closer to the mic and smirked, “What do the letters in BDSM stand for?”

Apparently he was right about being useless again, so he turned to his teammates, hoping they had a clue, for Aayla’s sake, at least. “Erm, well,” Bly was stammering, avoiding looking in Quinlan’s direction, and turning to Aayla, “It’s not exactly something…” They seemed to be trying to communicate without speaking, with lots of head tilts and eyebrow raising, which Anakin thought was dumb. Who did they think they were? Him and Obi-Wan?

“Yeah, I mean. No, of course. Not enough to, you know, know.” Anakin was now realizing he had never seen Aayla blush until this very moment, and he felt bad, but he also wanted to laugh at her.

He turned back to Quinlan, who looked like he was also holding in a laugh, and before he could ask him if he knew the answer, Quinlan beat him to it. “Since clearly those two laser brains have nothing, what about you, Skywalker?”

“Uhhhhh.” He felt bad about wanting to laugh at Aayla’s blush now that he felt his cheeks warming. “Um, no. I… I don’t know it.” Why would I? His drunk mind supplied. I’m not… like that.

Quinlan finally let his laugh out, only stopping after Aayla’s hissed warning of “Master! There’s not much time left!”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, pulling out his comlink. “Let me call someone who I know can help us.” While the com tried to connect, Anakin wondered if they were cheating or if there was someone kind of phone-a-friend rule he forgot about.

He was broken out of his musings by a very familiar clipped Coruscanti accent coming out of Quinlan’s comlink, “This is Kenobi.”

The greeting and question Quinlan gave to his Master was lost on Anakin, because for some reason, his ears were ringing. His hearing came back to him a moment later when he heard Obi-Wan say, “Technically, it stands for six words, not four. Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, as well as sadism and masochism.”

The joyous cries of his teammates at Obi-Wan’s save, and Aayla’s furious writing of it on their little old-school board were overpowered by the feeling of Anakin’s blood rushing to his cock. What the fuck?

How the hell did Obi Wan know that? Obi-Wan couldn’t know that. Obi-Wan was stuffy and proper and organized the food in their cabinets by color. One time Anakin had said the word “dick” in front of him and he was forced to meditate for 20 minutes afterwards. 

As Anakin panicked, the host asked for the crowds answers, and his friends cheered again, waving for another round when they were awarded the points for their correct answer.

“To Obi-Wan, that kinky fuck!” Quinlan shouted, picking up his beer and shoving it in the air, alongside Aayla and Bly’s raised beverages. Anakin tried to lift his, but suddenly he found he was feeling a lot more drunk, and weak. So he switched the cup over to his mechnoarm.

When Bly and Aayla echoed Quinlan words with a laugh, Anakin’s ears started ringing again.

…

2

For the next several months, Anakin avoided alcohol. The morning after what happened he reasoned with himself that Obi-Wan was just a very well read man. How many times had he surprised Anakin with incredibly obscure knowledge that he had no practical use for? Honestly, Obi-Wan probably found out what those letters stood for from a mission briefing Anakin didn’t read. That was plausible.

Still, the way his Master’s voice sounded saying those words, and more so, Anakin’s body’s reaction to it, led him to laying off drinking. And honestly, he hadn’t really missed it.

Until now, that is.

Trying not to stomp but still very much stomping anyways, he trudged through the hallways of the Resolute to his quarters. Storming off from Ahsoka wasn’t very Masterly, of him, but it beat whatever else he might have said or done if he stayed in his troublesome Padawan’s presence one more minute.

They had been on Felucia, and he had almost lost her.

Most of the time, Ahsoka was near perfect. Intelligent, skilled, and willing to follow her Master’s lead, even when it was in defiance of higher up orders. But, he grumbled to himself as he palmed open the door to his quarters, that defiance sometimes extends to me. He empathized with his Padawan, he really did, but the stakes were too high for her to be acting this way.

Caught up in her own success, she hadn’t listened when she was called back. Had ignored orders multiple times and was blinded by her own hubris. Anakin’s head was starting to hurt as he sat on his bed and tugged off his boots. Even when they had went to pick her up she had argued, snarked a “What are you doing?!” He didn’t like using his “Master” voice, but he had learned from the best, so he used it until she gave up and joined him in the ship. Only seconds later, the spot where she and her men had been standing was blown to bits.

Worst of all, she had acted that way in front of Obi-Wan. This bothered him more than it should have. And deep down, he knew he wouldn’t be so angry if Ahsoka’s bad behavior hadn’t been witnessed by his old Master.

Speak of the devil, he felt the older man’s presence moving toward his room, calm and collected as usual. Obi-Wan had told Ahsoka he would have to report her actions today to the Council, and that was what caused Anakin to turn on his heel and walk away without saying a word.

He anticipated the knock on his door, so he raised his hand and waved it open. “Hey, Master,” he mumbled.

“Hello, Anakin.” Obi-Wan walked into his room and over to his desk chair, sitting down with his legs spread as per usual before taking in Anakin’s face, bleary and tired. “I apologize if I upset you, but you know this behavior cannot go uncorrected. She put herself and her men in danger today.”

Anakin put his face in his hands, feeling older than he was. “It’s not you, Obi-Wan,” he started, but that wasn’t exactly true. Yes, he was upset with Ahsoka. He hated seeing her in danger, especially when it was a result of her following an example he set. But, she had been in danger before, and he hadn’t felt this off balance, this resentful. He knew what the difference was, and he hated to admit it, even to himself.

What was he supposed to say to Obi-Wan? “Don’t worry about it Master, I’m not upset my Padawan nearly died today, I’m upset she did it in front of you. Her actions are a reflection of me, and I can’t stand the thought of you looking at me with anything but pride and joy.” Not likely, he thought bitterly. He could never be so selfish out loud.

Obi-Wan stayed silent, probably hoping Anakin would keep talking, but he didn’t. He moved to lay on his back, and stared at the ceiling. The more he thought about what had happened, the more angry he got. His irritation and worry about Ahsoka mixed with the self loathing his feelings about Obi-Wan seeing everything was bringing up, and Anakin was left with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Mind spiraling, he mused about what Ahsoka’s punishment would be. Surely she’d be taken away from the front. Anakin remembered his least favorite punishments he received as a Padawan were the ones where Obi-Wan went on a mission without him, and he was stuck at the Temple. He wasn’t sure this would have an effect on her like it did on him, though; she was never as… attached to him and he was to Obi-Wan. Cringing at the thought, he remembered the feeling of being left behind by his Master, it was the worst. Second only to a vague memory of his mother on Tatooine, he couldn’t really remember what he had done to deserve it, but what he did remember…

“Have you ever been spanked?”

The question came out of him before he really considered what he was asking, and once he had, he wished he could take it back. Corporal punishment? What the hell am I thinking? He could never lay his hands on his Padawan like that, nor did he want to. Despite his shame, he didn’t take the question back, now that he had turned his head and was looking at Obi-Wan. His Master was blushing a bit, and Anakin couldn’t help a small laugh to himself at the thought of a beardless Obi-Wan bent over Qui-Gon’s lap.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard in the way he did when he was trying to cover up what he feeling, and Anakin relished in getting to throw the other man off balance for once, instead of the other way around.

“Did you mean in a strictly disciplinary context, or…?” His Master trailed off, and Anakin stopped giggling. He was confused.

“Well, duh, old man. You know, by Qui-Gon. What other context is there? I guess I could ask if you’ve ever spanked someone else, but I’m pretty sure my ass would know if you had.”

Obi-Wan only blushed harder, opening and closing his mouth several times. “Well. There are… other situations… one may find themselves in. But, to answer your question. No, Anakin. I have never been spanked.”

Other situations? Even more confused, Anakin sat up and narrowed his eyes at his Master, “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, Anakin, I just… enjoy your world view.” By the end of his sentence, he had started chuckling, and looking at him with a look that made Anakin feel less like a fully fledged Jedi Knight, and more like the child who had never seen rain before. Obi-Wan moved to leave his room, tossing a “Enjoy your evening, Anakin,” over his shoulder before the door closed behind him.

…

3

Dripping sweat, Anakin leaned his head against the alley wall and let out a sigh of relief. Despite the ease of being close to home, assignments on Coruscant were a pain in the ass. With the way Coruscant was designed, combined with the too-high population, it was always a rigorous chase. The constant turns, the Force jumps from building to building, all while avoiding hurting a bystander basically turned it into a sport. He was thankful he had Obi-Wan with him, at least he hadn’t had to do it on his own.

Currently, Obi-Wan was trying to contact the Coruscant guard to come collect their target, a Parwan bounty hunter who had made an attempt on a visiting senator’s life. When Anakin had finally closed in on him, he barely managed to get a hand around one of his arms, only enough to slow him down. Parwans were slippery, with long arms and tentacle-like fingers, and actual tentacles instead of legs. So while Anakin didn’t have a good grip on him, his loose grasp had caused the bounty hunter to turn around, which allowed Anakin to clock him across the jaw with his mechnoarm and knock him out.

He was starting to get nervous though, he had a habit of pulling his punches with his mechnoarm, which usually was a good thing. Force forbid he land a fully powered punch on Rex while they were sparring. But in this case, he was worried. He sensed the Parwan wasn’t fully unconscious, and that they wouldn’t have much time before he woke up.

“Can you hurry it up, old man?” He tossed in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“Hush, Anakin. You should know there are certain parts of the lower levels that are not fully equipped for a strong com signal, seeing as you spent half your nights as a Padawan down here.”

“You really want to talk about this now? He’s gonna wake up!”

“Best figure out a way to restrain him then, young one.”

Fighting the urge to tell Obi-Wan he wasn’t so young anymore, he turned back to the bounty hunter on the ground, who had started to flutter his eye lids, all three of them.

Looking around, Anakin tried to find something to tie up the criminal. Standard issue binders wouldn’t restrain a guy like this, not with the layer of fluid that covered his thin limbs. He made his way toward the trash receptacle near the entrance of the alley, and reluctantly searched through it, turning back every so often to check on the semi-conscious Parwan.

Luckily, somewhat near the top of the trash, and not covered in weird trash-juice, was a length of synthrope. Pulling it out of the garbage, he found it was long enough to do the job and spare some, but when he brought it back towards the bounty hunter and looked down at him, he realized a simple knot wouldn’t keep him restrained. He was too slippery, and his limbs too many. He would slide right out of the knot Anakin would have used to tie up a humanoid criminal. Grumbling, he looked over at Obi-Wan, who was now speaking into his com, hopefully getting a message through, finally.

With his Master occupied, Anakin thought he should at least try to restrain the Parwan, seeing as he was making sounds and rolling around a bit now. Grabbing the length of rope, he began looping it around the tentacles first, figuring they were the priority. Looping the rope in random patterns and tying knots where he felt it was best, he really tried. He cursed to himself as the rope shifted and fell off the Parwan’s tentacle at the slightest movement. Sitting back on his heels, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down.

“Here, let me.” Obi-Wan was behind him now, and had set a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, sending something soothing across the bond, and Anakin felt his shoulders relax as his Master’s Force presence rolled over him. Anakin stood up and let the older man kneel where he had been sitting, taking the rope from where it had been hanging off the bounty hunter and untangling the mess Anakin had made of it.

He watched his Master work, eyes following his hands as he started with the Parwan’s arms, tugging them behind his back and looping the rope around and between them. As he worked his way down, every so often he would stop and make sure they weren’t loosening, then continued tying knots intermediately until he had reached the hands. The way Obi-Wan had used the rope, it was clear their target wasn’t going anywhere. Well, unless he woke up and managed to stand up.

Supposedly thinking the same thing, Obi-Wan used his lightsaber to cut the extra synthrope that hung, and moved towards the tentacles on the Parwan’s lower half with it. He immediately started again, using a different pattern than he had used before, and as Anakin watched his Master work, he found himself almost in a trance. Following the way his Master’s hands were moving, so fluidly, so focused, it was hard not to sink into Obi-Wan’s Force presence the slightest bit. He was a little surprised to feel that Obi-Wan was also experiencing some of the same inner peace Anakin was. His Master felt like a river without waves the Force, smooth as glass as he tied the knots.

“Have you done this before?” Anakin asked. Had Obi-Wan been chasing Parwan’s all those times he went on missions without Anakin?

“In a way. Just not to a Parwan.”

“Oh, to who, then?”

“A woman. Well, multiple women. And a few men.” Obi-Wan said bluntly. He was finished now, and Anakin was about to tell him that for something so strange, it looked… nice. Before it could come out of his mouth, his brain processed what Obi-Wan had said.

“Wait. What? How many times have you been in a situation in which your only option is to tie the enemy up like this? And if it’s coming up so much, why haven’t you taught me?”

Obi-Wan stood up and leveled Anakin with a strange look. “Were you really just out racing speeders all those times you snuck out? That’s it? No… other endeavors?”

Back to this? “Force, Master. Yes. What do you want me to say?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out for you to punish me about that.” He noticed Obi-Wan broke eye contact when he said punish, and squirmed at the memory of asking his Master if he had ever been spanked. It made him feel hot all over, this whole situation suddenly had Anakin sweating in his robes again, even though the chase had ended long ago.

Before Obi-Wan could respond, they were interrupted by the sight of the Coruscant guard showing up, a group of them on speeders. They immediately moved towards the Parwan and began gathering him for transfer. Obi-Wan quietly thanked them before turning to Anakin, sending a Shall we? through the bond. As they jumped from rooftop to rooftop back to the upper levels, he couldn’t help but notice his Master had broken another sweat too.

…

4

Where is he? Adjusting his formal robes, Anakin stood from his place surrounded by uptight politicians, muttering a half-assed apology before making his way away from the larger crowd in the center of the main hall. He hoped to catch a glimpse of his Master, but as he scanned the room for auburn hair and light robes, he came up short.

Obi-Wan had been gone for over an hour, and Anakin was getting restless. He was still avoiding alcohol, especially with Obi-Wan by his side tonight, but he was starting to feel like that was a stupid decision, seeing as his Master was definitely not by his side, nor had he been for most of the night.

Scowling, Anakin made his way out of the main room the event was being held in. I didn’t even want to come to this stupid thing in the first place, he internally pouted. It was some dumb gala-banquet-ball thing they were invited to as “such honored guests”. Anakin had wanted to tell them if they really wanted to honor the Jedi, they should let them go back to their rooms and sleep, but the look Obi-Wan had leveled him with shut him up.

What was the point if he was just going to disappear and leave me alone all night? He tried to think about where Obi-Wan could be as he walked. He had commed him a few times from the table with no answer, and as he thought about it more, he started to get worried. What if something had happened to his Master? Walking faster now, he went through his memories of earlier in the night, and tried to think about what could have happened.

When they first arrived, Obi-Wan had gone for a drink. Spiked? He considered, but then discounted that theory. Plenty of others were drinking the same thing, served from the same little platter Obi-Wan had grabbed his from, even some people at their table. And they were fine when Anakin had left.

After the drink, Obi-Wan had made his way around the room, shaking hands and charming the politicians and locals like he always did. Honestly, nothing stuck out.

Well, except her.

He was pretty sure he hadn’t remembered her until this moment because he was trying to forget she even existed. The same way he liked to pretend that the Duchess of Mandalore didn’t exist sometimes. And Quinlan, ever since the trivia night incident. He had also made a choice to not think about why he didn’t like thinking about these people.

But now, he had to think about her. She was beautiful, like, Moons of Iego beautiful, and when his Master had grabbed her hand and kissed it, showing his every-tooth smile and sparkling blue eyes, Anakin had wished he did have a drink just so he could throw it on her. His Master had taught him better than that though, so he simply smiled and bowed, going to sit down and hoping Obi-Wan would follow him, but nope. Obi-Wan had stayed by her side, even sat with her at her table and had the audacity to laugh at whatever was coming out of her stupid perfect pink mouth. Between glaring at his Master and purposefully looking anywhere but at him because he did not care what Obi-Wan was doing, he had lost him. And now, his naive Master could be in her clutches, being subjected to Force knows what.

He was half jogging down the halls now, turning his head down every corridor, even checking the fancy freshers. He sped up and made his way towards the lifts, but skidded to a halt when the doors opened before he got to them, and there was Obi-Wan.

“Master! Sith Hells, are you alright? Where have you been?” He met Obi-Wan right outside the elevator, grasping him by the biceps, trying to look into his eyes to make sure he was fine. Upon closer inspection, he noticed Obi-Wan’s hair was out of place, falling in his eyes the way it did when they sparred long and hard.

“Ah, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice came out slightly strangled, and he cleared his throat, “I’m quite alright.”

Anakin stepped back, feeling somewhat relieved. Though his Master felt perfectly blissful and carried a sense of… satisfaction?…in the Force, he still looked disheveled. One tabard fell from his shoulder and when Anakin leaned back in to put it back in its proper place, he noticed his Master smelled like sweat.

Obi-Wan watched him replace the tabard and then met Anakin’s eyes, “Would you mind us going back to our rooms? I’m quite… beat.”

“Of course, Master. Are you sure you’re alright? You had me worried, I know what kind of trouble you can get into when left to your own devices.” He smiled, feeling relieved that his Master was back by his side. The closer they got to their rooms, the calmer he felt. Things were best when it was just the two of them.

“I assure you, I’m fine, Anakin. More than fine.” Obi-Wan keyed in the code and they stepped inside. Obi-Wan immediately made for the small kitchen unit, pouring himself a glass of water, and then another, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

Moving to the couch, Anakin added Obi-Wan drinking water to the list of things he would decide not to think about.

“How was your night, Anakin?”

A selfish part of Anakin wanted to be honest and say something like, it was horrible because you weren’t with me you idiot. But now that his Master was in front of him, looking soft and relaxed and other things Anakin was adding to his don’t-think-about list, the desire to throw those kind of words at Obi-Wan was lost. Now that they were together, and alone, Anakin just wanted to be good for him.

Huh?

Something told him that maybe he should think about that particular thought, but he was interrupted by his Master coming around the couch to sit next to him.

And wincing as he did.

Immediately, the thoughts of being good left him, “Obi-Wan! You kriffing liar! You told me you were fine!” He moved closer to his Master, getting in his space and checking over him in the Force; Obi-Wan was still feeling fine from what Anakin could tell, but he had raised his shields somewhat. “I knew something was going on, was it that woman? I knew she was evil.” He was starting to get into ramble territory now, but the thought of his Master at the mercy of that schutta made him sick! Maybe if he left now, Anakin could track her down.

Beside him, Obi-Wan started laughing.

Anakin opened his mouth to yell but Obi-Wan quieted and lifted a hand. “Peace, Anakin. I was not at the mercy of that woman, as you say,” He tilted his head a bit and smirked, “Well, not in the way you are assuming, at least.”

Moving back from his Master on the couch, Anakin stared at him and blushed so hard he thought he’d pass out. Oh. OH. It made sense now.

Sensing his feelings, Obi-Wan sent a wave of comfort through the Force, making warm eyes at him and saying, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Padawan. I have gathered you do not indulge as I do.”

Anakin wanted the ground to swallow him up. Of course, he thought. Of course Obi-Wan was off having sex with her. How could he be so stupid, so naive. The dishevelment, the sweat? He suppressed a shiver the best he could as he recalled the way his Master had felt in the Force when he met him outside of the lift, so… pleasured, he realized now. Obi-Wan was looking at him with those same blue eyes he had looked at Miss Moons of Iego with when they had made love, now telling him with the same mouth he had kissed her with that it was alright that Anakin had totally missed all the cues because of course he hadn’t gotten laid since the beginning of the war, when he had fooled around with Padmé before they decided they were better off as friends.

He never wanted to talk about this again, but also, there was a nagging in the back of his mind. A puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit with the others.

“But… why are you wincing?” He asked, and the more he thought about it, the more it became plausible that Obi-Wan had made up the sex story to hide an injury. He felt himself starting to get angry, looking at his Master intensely and waited for his answer.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows turned upwards, and his face turned fond as he said softly, “Anakin, she…pegged me.”

He should’ve just quit while he was ahead. He should’ve listened to his brain when it said to never talk about this again. Anakin knew what pegging was, okay, he did! He was twenty two standard years old for Force’s sake. Though he wasn’t much into the impersonal nature of holoporn, he knew what the categories meant. Most of the time.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But you really have no reason to be worried. I’m just a bit sore, no harm done.”

Anakin wasn’t sure uncomfortable was the word for it, unless he counted the way his cock was pushing against the inside of his trousers. When did that happen? He felt like he was on fire, as he tried to comprehend the amount of embarrassment he was feeling, a volume he had never known before, along with the image in his brain of his perfect, poised Master sliding down a silicone cock, and riding it until he was sore.

His do-not-think-about list was getting very full tonight.

Obi-Wan reached for his shoulder, and Anakin was powerless to do anything but lean into him. His Master’s arms came around him for a moment and squeezed before pulling back and smiling at him, “Are we alright?”

“Yes,” Anakin answered. Of course they were fine. They were The Team. He had never thought about his Master having sex before. And just because Anakin couldn’t figure out why he could only picture Obi-Wan on top and in control when getting pegged did not mean the said pegging was going to affect their relationship. But just now, in this moment, he realized he had always figured Obi-Wan was a top. Even though he had never thought about it before.

Letting out a laugh, Anakin once again wanted to die when he noticed his own lowered shields, and prayed to the Force that Obi-Wan hadn’t picked up all of that.

“No need to be confused, dear one. Your senses serve you well, for the most part. I only bottom for women.” And with that, Obi-Wan got up, making his way towards his bedroom, but not entering before turning around and softly bidding Anakin “Sweet dreams, Padawan.”

…

Anakin did not have sweet dreams.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, this very private thing he had found out about his Master. And no matter how hard he tried to not think about it, it wormed his way back into his brain.

He knew part of the problem was that there was a lot to unpack. In one very short conversation, he had unlocked many Pandora’s boxes in his mind. Many of which he hadn’t even known existed, until just now.

Once he made his way back to his own room, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. He stripped himself of his clothes, sighing as his aching cock was released, and laid in his bed. I’m not going to touch myself, he thought as he stared down at his own hardness. But the more he looked at it, the more wound up he felt, so he flipped himself over on his stomach, and immediately regretted his decision with his erection now pinned to the mattress.

He tried not to move his hips, or think about what Obi-Wan had said. He grabbed for the bedding below him and twisted it in his grip, trying to will his mind and body into submission.

Submission.

He remembered his Master’s voice saying that word over Quinlan’s comlink. He remembered the way it made him feel, drunk as he was at the time.

Giving a small thrust against the mattress below him, he told himself that this wasn’t technically thinking about what Obi-Wan had said earlier. This was different.

Hips moving in light circles on the bed, he tried to remember the other words his Master had said that night. He knew there was dominance to match submission, and that word brought his brain back to “I only bottom for women.” Of course, Anakin knew sexual position didn’t really equate with power dynamics, his brain unhelpfully reminding him of the image of Obi-Wan bouncing on Moons of Iego’s fake cock.

Shuddering at the thought, he tried to block it out of his brain. Something else, something else! He really didn’t want to think about tonight. He didn’t want to think about Obi-Wan with her. Anything but that, he whimpered into his pillow. He wanted to think about Obi-Wan making love to a man, the way he said he did. On top, thrusting his thick cock inside someone with blonde curls, and a scar on their face, and whose name was Anakin.

Too far gone to care at this point, Anakin started moving with purpose against the covers below him, thrusting his hips and panting into the bedsheets. Fuck, fuck. There was precum dripping from him now, and it created friction that made him want to cry out. But he couldn’t, because Obi-Wan would hear him.

Oh, fuck. He wanted Obi-Wan to hear him.

Flesh fingers gripping the bedding so tight they started to ache, and the durasteel ones tearing the sheets, he fucked the mattress harder. He wanted Obi-Wan to hear him, to come to him, to open his door and see him like this. Rutting his wet cock against the covers. He wanted to show his Master how desperate he was, how filthy. How… submissive, his mind supplied.

“No, Anakin. I have never been spanked.”

Muffling a groan that could really get him caught, Anakin realized the implications of his Master’s answer that he hadn’t thought anything of at the time. Sure, Obi-Wan had never been spanked, but that didn’t mean…

He was so close, he couldn’t help himself. He thought of the way Obi-Wan had looked at him weeks later, in that Coruscanti ally, when Anakin had mentioned being punished, and realized he had never wanted anything more. He wanted to be punished, to be taken over his Master’s knee and spanked for misbehaving, for humping the bed like a horny teenager.

Without thinking, he untangled his mechno fingers from the bed sheets and swung his arm behind him, no more pulling punches, he thought. He came the second his durasteel hand hit the flesh of his ass, hard.

After catching his breath, he flipped over and made a face when his sore ass landed in his own cum, then looked down.

He was still hard.

…

5

For someone who was actively trying to avoid alcohol, Anakin sure was drunk.

To be fair though, he needed a break from the constant thoughts about his Master. He hoped if he got drunk enough, it would be enough to quiet those sweet dreams he had been having of Obi-Wan, where the older man didn’t treat him very sweet at all.

He didn’t think he could stand another night of waking up hard and leaking, stuck with the image of his Master using his calloused hands to bind Anakin up with those intricate knots. Shibari, he remembered. He still wasn’t into holoporn, but he had tried to educate himself about his newfound desires to the best of his ability by stealing holos from the archives. No way was he actually going to have it on record with Jocasta Nu that he had checked out a horny holo.

Though, he had discovered, it wasn’t always about horniness. Sometimes, he found out, it was about that feeling he had shared with Obi-Wan when he witnessed him tie up the Parwan bounty hunter; that peace, that ease.

For Anakin personally, however, the involvement of Obi-Wan made it a horny endeavor, no matter how much he wished it didn’t.

It seemed that the night he had made love to a mattress had broke the dam inside of him. He could barely control his desire for his Master now. He was half hard almost every time he was around the other man, even though they never spoke again about what Obi-Wan had said that night, or any of the other nights. He still couldn’t help but be constantly plagued with thoughts of his Master putting him in his place, of being on knees for the only man who could tell him what to do. Of being good.

But being good was up for debate when he was five drinks in and still probably more drunk than Obi-Wan was, who he was pretty sure was at seven.

He wished he could say that inviting Obi-Wan to drink with him had seemed like a fun, harmless idea in hindsight, but he would’ve been lying. He had wanted to see what else he could pry out of his Master. Despite the torment his constant arousal gave him, seeing Obi-Wan like this, trying to get his seemingly uptight Master to make another candid statement like he had before, shot a thrill through Anakin that reminded him of whipping around a corner too fast when podracing.

They were sitting in Obi-Wan’s quarters on the Negotiator, both on the bed with their backs to the wall, shoulders brushing. Earlier, they had just finished up what had been a relatively painless victory over the Separatists, when Anakin had asked his Master if he wanted to share a drink. He could tell Obi-Wan was in a good mood, so he wasn’t surprised when his Master accepted and told Anakin to come to his quarters after he had cleaned up.

Now, they were nearing the end of the bottle, and from the state of the two of them, he was glad Ahsoka was on assignment with Master Plo. She would never let him live it down if she saw the way they were nearing drunken incoherency. Obi-Wan was doubled over in laughter; he kept trying to say something, but every time it seemed like he was about to manage to get what he wanted to say out, he let out another wheeze of laughter. His laugh only made Anakin laugh, which jostled the bottle he had stuck clumsily between his thighs for safe keeping.

He couldn’t exactly remember what they were laughing about, but he bet it was good. Stomach aching from laughter, his mission of prying more fodder out of the other man for his dirty thoughts didn’t seem so important now, but that didn’t stop his want for the man. He reached between his thighs for the bottle, and shifted subtly (he hoped) to press it against where his semi-erect cock was pushing against his robes. Being so close to Obi-Wan like this, when he was so loose and relaxed, had Anakin near purring.

Laughter finally calming down, Obi-Wan shifted to grab the bottle, taking the pressure off Anakin’s cock before bringing the liquor to his mouth and downing what was left. Anakin watched his Master swallow while he throbbed in his pants. He was too drunk to tell if he was being obvious about it or not. Is obvious really a bad thing?

Ever since that night after the gala, Anakin had put together some things about his Master. One, Obi-Wan was far more sexual than he had originally thought. And two, he was… a kinky fuck, Quinlan’s voice echoed in his mind. He remembered his Master’s voice telling him he had tied up multiple men and women, and had to loosen the neck of his robes at the thought.

Obi-Wan had slept with that evil-but-not-really-evil woman at the gala while he was somewhat under the influence, right? Anakin’s drunk mind started connecting dots and he felt himself grow harder as he thought. Obi-Wan was apparently the kind of man who had kinky sex with semi-strangers. Somewhat regularly. And he did not mind doing it while tipsy.

Anakin wasn’t a semi-stranger. He was a total not-stranger to Obi-Wan, and if Obi-Wan could have tipsy kinky sex with random people, what was stopping him from having fully drunk kinky sex with his former Padawan?

Flawless logic, he thought, as he scooted a little closer to his Master on the bed.

Obi-Wan turned his head to meet Anakin’s eyes, and their noses were almost touching.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, Anakin?”

“Can we have kinky sex?”

Obi-Wan blinked and looked at him owlishly, stammering out, “W—what?”

Maybe kinky sex didn’t involve as much talking as Anakin originally thought. He switched tactics, getting up and swinging a leg over Obi-Wan, before settling in the older man’s lap, and bringing their mouths together.

It was sloppy and perfect, especially because Obi-Wan wasn’t pulling away. His Master leaned into his kiss and hummed, before opening his mouth to let Anakin’s tongue drag along his teeth. Anakin shoved his hips forwards, trying to get friction on his swollen cock, and squeaked when Obi-Wan’s big hands landed on his ass and squeezed, pulling his cheeks apart through his pants and making his hole clench around nothing.

This is it, this is it. His Master was going to give him what he wanted. Obi-Wan was going to make him submit. As he continued humping against his Master and fucking his tongue into his mouth, he tried to send everything he was feeling, everything he wanted across the bond.

When Obi-Wan pulled back, there was a glistening line of spit connecting their lips, and Anakin thought he might come at the sight of it if he wasn’t so confused as to why Obi-Wan had stopped.

“Anakin, we can’t,” Obi-Wan spoke gently, taking Anakin by the biceps and moving him back.

“What? Why?” He whined, struggling against his Master’s grip; if he could just kiss him again, Obi-Wan would give in.

“What you want, Anakin, we can’t. Not… not like this, dear one.” Obi-Wan looked at him earnestly, his big blue eyes shimmering with apology. Anakin wanted to cry. Of course he wasn’t going to get what we wanted, Obi-Wan didn’t even want him in the first place. Anakin was so focused on making sure he wasn’t actually going to start crying he didn’t notice Obi-Wan let go of one of his arms, and bring his hand to Anakin’s chin, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “But..”

But? But! There’s a but!

“If you are interested when you are sober, Anakin, I suppose we could discuss it.”

Despite his initial disappointment, he warmed at the thought that his Master didn’t just want to drunkenly fuck him. Obi-Wan wanted to be totally sober for it, to talk about it, to remember it. It wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for tonight, but maybe having Obi-Wan beat his ass until he cried was too much on the night of their first kiss.

The fight knocked out of him, he ignored his still throbbing erection and nodded at his Master.

“From what you showed me, Anakin, there will be a lot to talk about,” Obi-Wan said, the hand under Anakin’s chin gripping harder now, as his other hand made it way into his hair, petting the curls back. He took on a tone that made Anakin feel like a youngling, “Do you think you can be patient, hm? Can you do that for me, Anakin?”

Ignoring his erection was a bust, then. Anakin’s mouth dropped open, he couldn’t help the panting as he whispered, “Yes, Master.”

“Mm, good boy,” Obi-Wan hummed.

He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor, or his Master’s sweet words, but Anakin was feeling soft and sleepy now. He told the other man as much, and he carefully lifted Anakin up and off his lap, before laying him down in his bed and crawling in after him, tugging Anakin to his chest.

Anakin was lulled to sleep by his mind replaying the way Obi-Wan had called him good boy while petting his hair and holding him. He had looked so proud, and Anakin was determined to get his Master to look at him that way again.

…

+1

Fishing his comlink out of his robes, Anakin flushed when he saw it was his Master that had messaged him.

He flushed even more when he read it.

I should be home within the next ten minutes. Be ready for me.

He didn’t bother messaging back, Obi-Wan didn’t need it to know Anakin was going to listen.

Finally, finally, Anakin was getting what he wanted. After weeks of talking, and talking, and more talking; Obi-Wan was gonna make him submit. He stood from his place at the kitchen table, abandoning the droid he’d been working on, and couldn’t help the way he bounced with excitement.

The morning after their drunken kiss, Anakin didn’t have time to be mortified at his behavior. When he had opened his eyes, Obi-Wan was already staring at him with adoration and something that burned much hotter in his eyes. They had the first of many talks, about both their desires and past experiences; Anakin felt his face burn when he told his Master he had only been with Padmé, feeling ashamed next to his experienced Master, but to his surprise, Obi-Wan seemed to like his inexperience. He didn’t say as much, but the way his end of the bond crackled at Anakin’s admission gave him away.

And, it wasn’t like they just talked, Anakin mused as he made his way to Obi-Wan’s room. Obi-Wan was more than willing to touch him, as evidenced by the way he had shoved Anakin into supply closets multiple times aboard their ships. Anakin had never dared to picture his Master on his knees before, but he had thought about it every day since the first time he saw it. Obi-Wan bobbing up and down on his cock, taking him down his throat with ease, like he was used to it.

Entering Obi-Wan’s room, he pulled the synthrope and lube out of one of his drawers and set it on the bed, just as they had talked about. After stripping himself of his clothes and folding them up neatly, like Obi-Wan had said he preferred, he climbed on the bed. Kneeling now, the shift in position reminded him of the plug that Obi-Wan had placed in him this morning, and he squirmed.

“I’m not small, darling,” Obi-Wan had chuckled at him the first time he slid a plug into Anakin’s snug hole a few weeks ago. “I want you to take me nice and easy. So you’re going to be patient, and plug this cute little hole when I tell you to, aren’t you?” He had finished the sentence with a little slap on Anakin’s ass before pulling up his pants and fixing his robes for him, like a child.

He had pouted the first time, but now he was thankful. Obi-Wan was right, he wasn’t small. He remembered the first time he had straddled his Master’s lap, fully naked while Obi-Wan remained clothed except for his cock pulled out of his robes. When Anakin had grasped both their erections and pushed them together, the shot of heat that ran through him at the realization that his Master had a couple inches on him surprised him. It also made a bead of precum appear at his tip, which Obi-Wan caught on his thumb and pushed into Anakin’s mouth before ordering him to start fucking his hand.

Whimpering at the memory, Anakin looked at his cock, and hoped his Master would be home soon. He was already leaking, and he knew his Master liked how wet he got. He couldn’t wait to see Obi-Wan’s proud look when he saw Anakin was already making a mess.

Thankfully, he heard the main entry door to their quarters slide open soon after, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He heard Obi-Wan go to the kitchen, but couldn’t make out exactly what he was doing.

When Obi-Wan appeared in the doorway, with two glasses of water, Anakin’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him. Finally.

“Well, don’t you look pretty?” Obi-Wan cooed. He set the water on the table next to the bed, removing his lightsaber from his belt as well. “Were you good today?”

Gulping, Anakin avoided eye contact. He felt guilty, he really did. But when his Master had left for his Council meeting, leaving Anakin still bent over, plugged, and knowing what they were going to do when he returned, Anakin didn’t stand a chance. He had put his hand on his cock the second the door had closed behind Obi-Wan.

“Look at me, Anakin.”

Meeting his Master’s eyes, he felt the urge to try and explain himself. But all he could muster was a small, “I’m sorry, Master.” He really did hate that disappointed look on Obi-Wan’s face.

“Hm. I’m not sure you are. Be honest with me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan started, stepping close to the bed and gripping Anakin’s hair, giving it a tug that made his cock jump, “Were you bad because you knew I would punish you? Did you touch that messy little cock of yours to the thought of what I would do to you when I found out?”

Feeling molten heat pooling in his stomach, Anakin just whined out in response. Obi-Wan had barely touched him, and he was already falling apart. His Master let go of his hair, and gently grasped his face in both his hands, the harshness gone from his eyes.

“Anakin, before we continue, can you tell me your colors?”

Anakin smiled, he knew this. This, they had gone over many, many times. “Green is everything’s good. Yellow is check in. And red is stop.”

“My good boy,” Obi-Wan cooed, making soft eyes at him, “And what’s your color now?”

“I’m green, Master.” His nuzzled into one of Obi-Wan’s hands, then turned his head to kiss his palm.

Obi-Wan allowed the action, before narrowing his eyes and telling him, “You’re still getting spanked.”

Moaning at the words, Anakin followed his Master’s direction when he told him to make room for him on the bed. Obi-Wan sat down before patting his lap, “Come now, sweet boy. Over my knee like we discussed.” Scrambling to obey, Anakin was already feeling weak as he made to lay over his Master’s lap. His face burned at the position, but it felt so good. He had waited so long for this, dreamt of it so many times, and his Master was about to give it to him. The thought made his hips shift, trying to rub against his Master’s thigh, but Obi-Wan’s grip stopped him.

“You’re going to receive twenty hits, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained slowly, running his hand over Anakin’s ass, “I won’t make you count since it’s your first time.” The longer his Master made him wait, the harder Anakin got. At this point, he was feeling like he might come the second Obi-Wan hit him.

When Obi-Wan lifted his hand, and brought it back down against Anakin’s skin; for a moment, he thought he had.

With the surge of heat that rushed through him at the smack of his Master’s hand against his ass, so much better than the time he had tried it himself, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had made a mess of his Master’s trousers, but when he looked down to check, he saw he hadn’t. But, he was leaking a steady stream of precum. Obi-Wan shifted his legs farther apart, leaving Anakin’s cock to hang between them, and the precum started to pool on the floor.

Bringing his hand down again, harder now, Obi-Wan starting building a steady rhythm with his hits. Anakin whimpered, it hurt. His Master certainly wasn’t holding back, and Anakin, despite the pain, shoved his ass back as much as he could in his current position. He couldn’t help himself when he imagined his own ass, bruised with his Master’s handprints.

Obi-Wan didn’t stop his hips movement now, letting Anakin push back to meet the spanking as much as he pleased, eager for more, “Halfway there, darling.” He swung even harder now, and Anakin cried out, the pain from his ass going straight to his cock.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

His mouth hanging open, Anakin noticed he was drooling. He tried his best to wipe it off on his Master’s clothed thigh, but the coordination was hard as his whole body was jostled every time Obi-Wan’s hand landed. He bit into his Master’s thigh as his ass burned, and squealed when Obi-Wan suddenly stopped. He felt fingers grip his ass cheek, pulling him open and exposing his hole, still stretched around the plug. He was sure his face was as red as his ass now, but he didn’t care. He liked his Master’s eyes on him.

Then, Obi-Wan lifted his hand and landed the three last hits in quick succession, right over the plug, pressing it against Anakin’s prostrate with each swat.

Anakin let out a whimper with each smack, and then felt his whole body relax. He could feel his Master’s hands on him still, smoothing his palms over his ass and up his back, one hand reaching into Anakin’s hair. He turned Anakin’s head and leaned over a bit so they could make eye contact.

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin slurred out. Seeing the proud look on his Master’s face making him smile dazedly.

Obi-Wan matched his smile, stroking his hair, “You’re welcome, sweet boy. I’m very proud of you. You took that very well, just like I knew you would.” Anakin preened at his Master’s words, and gave his hips a little wiggle as much as he could on Obi-Wan’s lap. “Would you like to keep going? What’s your color?”

Attention brought back to his still hard cock, there was no way Anakin could stop now. He still wanted the other things his Master had promised him; to be tied up, to be fucked. He sent the thought through the bond and mumbled, “Green, Master.”

He heard a small groan from above him, and closed his eyes when he felt his Master’s arms around him, shifting him until he was laying face down in the pillows on his stomach. Obi-Wan was behind him now, petting down his arms as he leaned down to whisper, “Grab your elbows, sweetheart, I’m going to bind you now.”

Immediately obeying his Master, he brought his arms behind his back, bending them at the elbows and grabbing the opposite. The simple action had him sinking further into the mattress, and that floaty space he remembered from the first time he saw his Master with rope. He sighed and let his Master work, trusting the other man completely as he tried not to rut against the mattress.

He felt so safe like this, like something precious. When he had first got into all of this, it really was mostly about the way it made all his blood rush to his cock. But now, he felt differently. His Master had told him multiple times that he was honored Anakin wanted to bare himself like this. Every time they had spoken, he had assured him that it was Anakin that truly held the power, and that all he wanted to do was take care of him.

And as his Master finished up the intricate ties, he began speaking to Anakin, “You’re gorgeous like this, dear one.” He punctuated the statement with a tug to the ropes and another slap to his already sore ass, pulling Anakin out of his head and back into the moment. Mewling in response, Anakin only got louder when he felt Obi-Wan move back off of him, standing at the edge of the bed. He grabbed Anakin’s hips and pulled back, then lifted them so he could get his knees on the bed under himself.

In this position, Anakin’s face was pressed to the mattress, and his ass was up in air, plugged hole on display for his Master. Obi-Wan was rubbing his hands up his thighs and over his ass, before Anakin felt him step back again. He couldn’t help but whine, turning his face the best he could, relaxing again when he saw his Master taking off his clothes. He closed his eyes and waited, he was so close to getting fucked, he could taste it.

Now naked, Obi-Wan stepped closer again and Anakin could feel his bare hard cock against his ass. Moaning at the feeling, he pushed back like he had when he was getting spanked, wanting his Master to take out the plug and fuck him already. “Please, please, Master,” he mumbled.

His Master chuckled at him, cooing “Okay, okay,” while he reached for the plug. At the first slight tug his Master gave it, Anakin moaned impatiently.

Master, please! He whined through the bond.

Showing him mercy, Obi-Wan didn’t tease any further, simply pulling the plug from his hole and tossing it to the side, leaving him open for his Master’s eyes. He felt himself tighten up and loosen again under his Master’s gaze, and was pleased when he heard the other man groan at the sight. Obi-Wan must’ve grabbed the lube at some point, as he felt slick fingers slip into him. Starting with two before quickly adding another, his Master made sure he was stretched and wet, while Anakin felt the excess lube drip down his balls.

When the fingers left him, he sunk deeper into his arch, showing himself off more. Obi-Wan must have liked the sight of him presenting, judging from the way he slapped his cock against Anakin’s hole, while his other hand gripped Anakin’s bound arms and pulled him up so he could whisper in his ear, “Beg, Padawan.”

Crying out once more, Anakin pulled against the restraints. He didn’t want to wait anymore. Just give me your cock, he pouted at his Master in the Force.

Which was not what Obi-Wan wanted to hear, apparently. He startled as he was manhandled off the bed, onto his knees. He looked up at his Master, who was standing over him now, but Anakin couldn’t hold eye contact with him for long. His gaze was drawn to the thick cock bobbing in front of his face. He didn’t get to look at it long, unfortunately; the grip in his hair made him meet Obi-Wan’s eyes again, and he didn’t look pleased.

“If you’re going to act like a brat, you’ll be treated like one. Now, suck,” Obi-Wan ordered, gripping his length and guiding it towards Anakin’s mouth, who obediently opened up and let his Master in.

As much as he wanted to be fucked, he had to admit; he loved this.

The first time Anakin had got his mouth on him, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin get to that sweet and floaty place rather quickly. An oral fixation, he had called it. But Anakin couldn’t help it, he loved the heavy weight of his Master’s cock in his mouth, and he loved the way his Master directed him, taught him how to take it just as much.

And now, Anakin knew how to take it with ease. He focused on breathing through his nose and tried to keep his eyes open; Obi-Wan liked the tears. His Master entered his mouth slowly, groaning above him, “Take it, sweetheart.” Then he started moving, one hand in Anakin’s hair and the other cupping his jaw, he thrusted in and out of the wet heat, not taking his eyes off of him.

As Anakin tried not to choke, his cock got wetter, drooling on the floor to match the drool starting to drip down his chin, and Obi-Wan laughed when Anakin’s hips hitched forwards.

“Oh, is this enough for you? All it takes is my fat cock down your throat to get you close? Oh, Anakin, you’re so easy,” he moaned. The mocking only made Anakin buck his hips again, and again. He loved it when Obi-Wan talked to him like this.

The thrusts got meaner at the sight of Anakin’s eyes welling over with tears, and he continued to talk to him, voice deep and husky now, “Maybe I should just finish like this. All over that pretty fucking face of yours. Would you like that Anakin? Would that be enough for you, or would I have to give you my leg to hump against?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

He wouldn’t need his Master’s leg to hump, he realized, as his hips kept moving, fucking against nothing, and his cock shot ropes of cum on the carpet. When he moaned around Obi-Wan’s cock, it opened his throat enough for his Master’s cock to slip into it, and the feeling of having his throat stuffed only made him cum harder.

By the time he finished, and Obi-Wan slowly pulled his still-hard length from his used and drooling mouth, Anakin was ready to beg.

Before he could, Obi-Wan was kneeling next to him and grabbing his face, planting kisses all over, murmuring to him, “Beautiful, dear one. You’re being just perfect for me. Are you still feeling okay to continue?”

He sent greengreengreen through the bond and relished in his Master manhandling him again. Bringing Anakin back to the same position on the bed as before, Obi-Wan stood behind him, leaning down and drawling, “Alright, sweet boy, I’ll give you what you need now. No begging required.”

Anakin moaned low when he felt the head of his Master’s cock —wet with his spit—press into his hole, and he noticed his own cock was already stirring from where it hung underneath him. Obi-Wan groaned with Anakin, while his hands kept his ass spread. He slowly rocked his hips, feeding his cock to Anakin inch by inch.

The feeling of being full of his Master after being teased these past few weeks made Anakin melt into the mattress. Obi-Wan finally bottomed out, and didn’t stay still for long; he pulled his hips back and slammed his cock back into Anakin. The brush against his prostrate combined with the sound the meeting of their hips made, caused Anakin to clench down on his Master, continuing to moan.

“That’s it, Anakin,” Obi-Wan ground out, “Let me feel that pretty little hole tighten up around me. Does it feel good?”

“So good, so good, it’s so good, Master,” he moaned, he was losing the ability to speak coherently, he could only moan and chant back at his Master, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Now a puddle on the mattress, Anakin felt like a rag doll; the only thing keeping his hips up was his Master’s hold on him. He smiled in pleasure, drooling into the pillow. As Obi-Wan really started to pound into him, Anakin moaned every time his Master’s thighs met his sore ass. The reminder of being spanked only made him more desperate, and he noticed his cock was fully hard again, bouncing under him with every thrust. He didn’t even feel compelled to touch it. Not like he could, the way his arms were still bound behind him, another reminder of how he belonged to his Master.

Obi-Wan slammed into him, and echoed the words Anakin must have let through the bond, “Yes, yes. So pretty like this, with your ass so pink, and this tight fucking hole.” If Anakin had it in him to turn around, he was sure he would see his Master speaking through clenched teeth.

“You feel so fucking good, Anakin. You’re mine, my good boy.”

The possessive words threw Anakin even closer to orgasm, while he drooled and moaned into the sheets. He loved this so much, loved belonging to his Master, being at his mercy. And when Obi-Wan reminded him of it with his words, Anakin had no choice but to leak and try to get his Master to fuck him harder. His body was weak, but he used all the strength he could muster to spread his legs further.

At the sight, Obi-Wan moved one leg up onto the bed next to Anakin’s, using the leverage to piston into Anakin even harder, his cock now hitting his prostrate with each thrust at the new angle. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Anakin,” he moaned, hips beginning to lose their rhythm as Anakin fell apart beneath him. He readjusted his grip as Anakin was staring to slide up the bed with the force of his thrusts.

The sound of his Master’s moans sent Anakin dangerously close to the edge, and he tried to savor the feeling of the big cock stretching him. If Obi-Wan ever tried to give him the plug again, he’d riot, now that he knew what the real thing felt like. He pushed the thought of being close to finishing to his Master, and expected to be made to beg again. But Obi-Wan only let go of one side of his hip, reaching under him to grip his swollen cock.

“Sweet boy, my good boy,” Obi-Wan panted out, “Come. Now, Anakin.”

Anakin had to submit to his Master.

Not sure if his scream was silent or audible, Anakin twitched and covered his Master’s hand in cum, regaining some control of his hips and messily pushing them back against the cock in his ass and fucking them forwards into the fist around his own cock.

His Master kept thrusting into him, pressing into his sensitive prostate while his hand milked his cock. As Anakin came back to himself, he noticed his Master felt like a live wire in the Force, and Anakin used what was left in him to turn back and meet the other man’s eyes before mewling out, “Obi-Wan, I want you to come on me.”

The use of his name seemed to send Obi-Wan into a frenzy, grasping both of Anakin’s hips again and trying to regain his pace from before, but his thrusts quickly became sloppy as he panted and lost coordination. He slammed into him a few more times before pulling out, reaching for his cock and flying his fist over it, fast and rough. Anakin was still looking back, and when they made eye contact again Obi-Wan groaned so loud Anakin worried for a moment that someone might hear them, but quickly let go of that thought as he felt Obi-Wan’s cum splatter over his throbbing ass.

Still panting, Obi-Wan brought his other leg up on the bed and lowered himself over Anakin, covering him. Anakin could feel his Master’s sweat dripping on him, and the brush of his chest hair sent a shiver down his spine.

After catching his breath, Obi-Wan rolled to the side, moving off of him and sitting up, beginning to untie Anakin. If he was paying attention, he would’ve noticed his Master using the Force to help, making the process much faster, but Anakin was floating. He closed his eyes and focused on how quiet his mind had become while Obi-Wan tossed the synth rope away and called his tunic to him with the Force. He wiped the mess off of the both of them the best he could at the moment, before pulling Anakin into his arms. He reached for the water and brought it to Anakin’s lips for him to drink, not speaking until he started to sip.

“That was lovely, Anakin. You did so well, were such a good boy for me. Does anything hurt?” He was gently massaging Anakin’s arms, and Anakin melted into the touch. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt better, more at peace in his whole life.

He grinned lazily, mumbling back, “‘M sore, but it’s good. Good sore.”

Obi-Wan let go of his arms and switched to petting his hair with one hand while the other thumbed the scar on his temple, “That makes me very happy to hear, dear one. Was it everything you wished it to be?”

The way his Master was looking at him now, with fondness and pride in his eyes, made Anakin feel so cherished he was helpless to do anything but throw his weak arms around Obi-Wan and whisper, “It was perfect, Master.” He felt his Obi-Wan’s lip press to his hair as he continued to float a little. He shifted slightly, and winced when his bruised ass met the friction of the bedding. Obi-Wan noticed, pulling back, “I’ll go get the cooling lotion,” he spoke before standing.

Anakin watched him go, admiring his handsome Master and his cute butt. He missed him the second he was out of sight. Turning back to blink at the ceiling, he thought about what else he and his Master might try in the future. He listened to the sound of Obi-Wan searching through the cabinets in the fresher, and was struck with an idea that surely would put him in kinky fuck territory, right next to his Master.

“Hey Obi-Wan?” He called, his voice somewhat weak, “Have you ever heard of watersports?"