Chapter Text
Anakin watched, with a roller coaster twisting in his chest, as the last padawan walked out of the showers and disappeared among the trees, heading toward the inner temple. “Finally, damn it,” he thought, drowning in anticipation. He glanced toward Obi-Wan, who floated carelessly in the middle of the pool as part of his meditation routine. Then his eyes dropped to his own feet, the only part of him still in the water at that hour of the afternoon, when he should have been in his second-to-last training session. But this was far more important than kicking any padawan’s ass and then getting scolded by Master Dooku for being too aggressive. No doubt he’d be reprimanded anyway, but at least this time it would be for something worth the entire universe.
A breeze stirred the leaves and lightly rippled the water. He looked at Obi-Wan, but the boy remained still, as if asleep. The silence around them was total, absolute (broken only by the wind or the occasional bird) but to Anakin it felt like he had plugs in his ears. Unbearable. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s meditation exercise, but he felt this was a unique chance…
He decided to be bold. He closed his eyes and reached out for Obi-Wan’s Force signature. Connecting had never been difficult for them; it was natural: they’d been friends and companions since childhood. Anakin felt a profound bond with Obi-Wan. Master Dooku had warned him many times to be cautious with attachments, that it wasn’t the Jedi way, yet his friendship with Obi-Wan felt like fresh spring water to a boy from the desert.
When Anakin arrived at the Jedi Order, he ran into the two biggest surprises of his life after nine years of childhood on Tatooine: first, discovering that other planets had massive bodies of water available for everyone to drink, and even more shocking: people used it for fun. A complete scandal. After the astonishment came indignation... the feeling of having been the victim of an enormous injustice.
At first, all the change was an overwhelming hell that only became harder to handle as the initial adrenaline wore off. Despite the harsh life he’d lived on his home planet, he often felt the urge to go back and hide in the familiar routine he understood, far from that new world that kept expanding and that he understood so little.
The other surprise that marked his life was Obi-Wan Kenobi’s first “Hello” because it felt like more than a simple greeting. The moment Anakin saw Obi-Wan enter the dojo, he knew immediately that the boy was special; something about him was different. The dynamic that sparked with that first greeting was a magnetic madness that made the whirlwind in his mind and body stop for a moment: those precious minutes of small talk with the only boy who didn’t treat him like a freak turned into years of friendship, making Obi-Wan his emotional safe place.
Of course Anakin was in love with him. It had been obvious ever since Anakin realized that feeling his heart and dick throb in excitement whenever he was near Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly a normal reaction between friends. Worse, his throat felt full of sand, and his tongue acted as if bitten by a venomous insect, stopping him from forming coherent words when he was nervous and making him look like an idiot. “How unattractive,” he thought whenever he stumbled over a sentence and saw Obi-Wan’s cherished blue eyes fixed on his mouth, as if trying to decipher what he wanted to say, his pink lips curling into an amused little smile. “Bastard…” Anakin thought, as his body delivered the final blow: his cheeks flushed furiously red.
Still, their friendship was healthy and they had never crossed any line that could endanger Obi-Wan’s convictions/morality/duty. Anakin respected him far too much to ever put their relationship at risk just because he was horny.
But…
The damn biology classes ended up destroying Anakin’s determination to keep any kind of healthy boundaries in all of this.
When you spend a good part of your childhood and teenage years in a place like the Jedi Temple, it’s perfectly normal to meet different species with different customs, appearances, sexes, genders, languages, gestures, traditions—different biologies altogether. Anakin was used to diversity, so very little could still shock him at seventeen… at least not until he realized that Obi-Wan Kenobi, his best friend, was Stewjoni.
Stewjoni.
Just thinking of that word made his dick throb inside his underwear.
The moment he learned the details of that species (and when Master Secura, who taught that year’s biology class, mentioned—in the most casual tone imaginable, as if she were naming a sock brand—that Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi was from Stewjon) it was enough for all the blood in Anakin’s head to rush downward, making him stop hearing or noticing anything around him, surrendering entirely to the tide of fantasies his creative mind began to produce mercilessly, without rest.
At some point in their years of friendship, Obi-Wan had mentioned the name of his homeworld, but it hadn’t meant much to Anakin, and it wasn’t exactly a topic of conversation. In any case, it had never crossed his mind to ask questions, nor had it ever been something that sparked his curiosity.
But that day, like a droid, Anakin stood up at the end of class and ran to his room to check out the Stewjoni tag on his favorite HoloPorn site.
The addiction was instantaneous.
Anakin was surprised by how much cum his balls held. He came and came and came, and still his seed continued to flow abundantly.
After that fateful biology class, months passed with Anakin jerking off obsessively. He masturbated wherever the urge became too unbearable: bathrooms, closets, empty dojos and classrooms, hallways, ships, the Senate, Obi-Wan's room (his favorite place), offices, street corners, alleys... you name it. Of course, being friends with his new sexual fixation didn't help either. It was like being forced to live with his favorite porn star, and the only thing available to see was strictly limited to his face and hands...
Except when they went swimming.
Obi-Wan, being the prude he was, wore a full-body swimsuit. Once again, only his head and hands exposed plus the sweet addition of his feet, a view Anakin was deeply grateful for. But it still wasn’t enough. Even if the suit protected his modesty, it was very tight. Anakin had never really paid attention before, but now that he knew what being Stewjoni implied, his eyes kept drifting to Obi-Wan’s crotch, his lower belly—where no bulge stood out at all.
Oh, Force…
The sound of Obi-Wan moving in the water made him open his eyes. Reaching out to their bond in the Force had worked. Obi-Wan swam closer and, with an agile motion, climbed out of the pool to sit beside him.
“Why are you still here?” he asked while squeezing the water out of his red hair.
“I didn’t feel like going to today’s session,” Anakin replied, trying to sound completely nonchalant, almost bored, with his eyes fixed on the pool’s surface.
“Master Dooku is going to scold you.” Obi-Wan tapped his shoulder with his fist, letting out a small laugh. “He’ll say it’s my fault.”
“You know what? Maybe it is your fault,” Anakin shot back, teasing.
“Idiot!” Obi-Wan burst out laughing, and Anakin savored the sound. He turned to look at him, and his heartbeat quickened, flooding his chest with warmth that sharply contrasted with his stomach, frozen with nerves.
You’re really pretty. It was a sentence he was always careful not to let slip from his lips, yet he thought it every single time he looked at him. He took a few moments to give him a quick, discreet once-over: bright blue eyes, now dilated; adorable freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose; a lovely mole on his cheekbone and three more on his forehead; thin pink lips; that enviable red hair falling in curls to his shoulders; and a padawan braid longer than his, showing the years of training Obi-Wan had over him.
Obi-Wan was twenty-two. He was about to become a Knight, and the thought filled Anakin with a quiet sorrow, because it meant they wouldn’t be seeing each other as often. More than once he’d confessed that worry to him, but Obi-Wan always responded gently, assuring him things wouldn’t change that much—that their friendship would always come first.
But Anakin knew that wasn’t true. Not because Obi-Wan meant to deceive him, but because it simply wasn’t something either of them could control.
“Is something wrong?”
Anakin realized he’d been staring, completely lost in his friend’s face. He blushed and lowered his eyes to his lap.
In his embarrassment, Anakin didn’t notice that Obi-Wan had blushed too.
“Nothing… I just feel a little overwhelmed,” he admitted.
Anakin knew that if he wanted things to change, he would have to take a risk. There wasn’t much time left.
“Overwhelmed by what?”
Anakin held his breath. The breeze returned, almost nostalgic.
They had never talked about it, but Anakin often wondered whether Obi-Wan could sense his arousal through the Force. Anakin could feel many things from him, but he also knew that whenever Obi-Wan felt vulnerable, he would block his Force signature so Anakin couldn’t read him. Right now, he had blocked it. Anakin wasn’t sure what his friend was feeling, but it was obvious he was no longer relaxed. That only made Anakin more tense; but the urge to touch Obi-Wan’s body was stronger than anything else. At this point, it was an unbearable need.
At the very least, he wanted Obi-Wan to know.
He gathered the courage to look him in the eyes. Obi-Wan leaned back ever so slightly, a tiny, instinctive movement, as if Anakin’s gaze alone had been enough to shake his composure, but he recovered almost immediately. Meanwhile, Anakin lost his burst of determination on the spot. Obi-Wan looking back at him like that was just too intimidating, at least for what he had planned to do.
Feeling like a coward, he dropped his gaze back to his hands resting in his lap.
A deep silence followed, and Anakin drowned in his own anguish. I can’t do it.
Suddenly, he heard Obi-Wan stretch with a long sigh. “It’s getting late, Ani.” With a smooth motion, he stood up. “I need to be on time for my lesson with Master Qui-Gon.”
“Oh, right. Right.” Anakin looked up at him. The shame he felt had reached cruel levels. “I—I’ll stay a-a little l-longer,” he stammered, because of course everything that could go wrong at that moment would go wrong. “I-I need to, uh, w-wait for Fisto. W-we’re going out for a drink.”
He lied; he didn’t even know if his friend was in the Temple; Obi-Wan would know better, since they were the same generation. “If you want, w-we can meet at Dex’s when you’re done with y-your lesson.”
Wow, Skywalker, that was pathetic, he thought to himself, horrified to see the affectionate expression on Obi-Wan’s face, like he was 100% aware of the cheap little spectacle Anakin had just put on.
He felt so overwhelmed that he dropped his gaze to the water, silently begging for Obi-Wan to disappear as quickly as possible.
Maybe it was a good idea to throw himself into the pool and swim down as deep as his lungs would let him…
“That sounds good. I’d like to go to Dex’s with you tonight.”
The words reached Anakin’s ears as if from far away, his body frozen in place.
“But first I need to get ready for my lesson. Will you come with me?”
There was something in the tone of those last two words that sent an electric current running through Anakin’s body, snapping him back to the present.
His dick reacted.
He turned to look at Obi-Wan—and found his hand extended toward him in invitation.
Anakin took it.