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"You can lose that frown right now, Anakin."
Anakin's brows furrowed further, the little line between them deepening.
"You can't get out of this party by being a grump."
Anakin's bottom lip jutted out.
Obi-Wan sighed and paused his fussing over Anakin's tie. Anakin's bottom lip remained pushed toward, plush and pink and completely tempting despite Obi-Wan's outward irritation. It was honestly a little embarrassing - actually, more than embarrassing - how easily Obi-Wan could be manipulated by Anakin batting his lashes and stick his bottom lip out.
Kissing Anakin chastely, Obi-Wan swiped the pout away before he resumed tying Anakin's tie. It was a beautiful dark blue and made of a fine silk, sent to Anakin by Padmé in hopes that he could wear it to some special event. As luck would have it that special event was tonight, Obi-Wan having been invited to a Christmas Eve party held at his boss's house.
It would be his first Canadian Christmas party. And perhaps his last, if Anakin's complaints were anything to go by.
"Do I have to go?" Anakin asked. He was whining - a high lilt to his voice that most certainly was not attractive.
"You don't have to come," Obi-Wan repeated for what felt like the twentieth time. "But I'd like it if you did."
Finishing his tying, Obi-Wan placed his hands on Anakin's shoulders and gave him a once over. Anakin had washed his hair and asked Ahsoka to help him style it in finger-waves which, for a time, managed to tame his curls. Anakin had picked out a high-collared dress shirt which covered most of the scarring along his neck, but Obi-Wan could still see a strip of the cobwebbed flesh run along edges of the white cotton. He touched it gently, sending Anakin a soft smile as he did so.
"Will they be able to see the scars?" Anakin asked, his hand flying up to replace Obi-Wan's.
"Not at all, darling."
Anakin relaxed slightly, his shoulders slumping beneath Obi-Wan's touch. Anakin had decided against wearing a prosthetic, instead going with one of his suit jackets that had been tailored to accommodate his missing appendage. He fiddled with the end of it even now, touch wearing away at the seam that had been carefully stitched in by a tailor who had seen his fair share of those wounded by the war.
"You look dashing, Anakin."
Anakin rolled his eyes, but his cheeks pinked up at the compliment. "So do you."
Obi-Wan titled his head to the side and allowed Anakin to ease in for a slow kiss. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin didn't like going out to events; there were too many people, too much noise, too much unknown. But Obi-Wan also knew that Anakin just didn't like to socialize, and would say and do almost anything to get out of having to attend a party. Time was limited, he'd always boast, so why waste it with people who irritated him? But Obi-Wan actually liked his coworkers, and told Anakin as such.
It had been some time since he'd been invited to a party by his peers. All of his friends were back in the UK, already waking to their Christmas morning, mouths stale with liquor and voices hoarse from good cheer. Just the thought of them celebrating without him made Obi-Wan morose in a way he rarely felt, and so he was determined to fill the void by making new connections in Canada.
"They won't think it's odd that your roommate is coming with you to your party?" Anakin asked when they parted. His lips were pink, the skin around them equally dusty thanks to the rub of Obi-Wan's mustache.
"You're my friend, Anakin. There is nothing odd about bringing a friend to a Christmas party."
"But that's all I am out there."
Obi-Wan tried not to frown. "Sadly, yes."
"But at my Christmas party, we got to be husbands."
"Your Christmas party comprised of Ahsoka, you, and I drinking spiked hot chocolate in your garage as we listened to the radio."
Anakin grinned. "Yeah, and it was perfect."
Obi-Wan sighed and went back to rubbing Anakin's scars, feeling the bumps and raised bits of flesh. Looking up at Anakin, he tried his hand at batting his lashes and pouting.
Anakin's expression softened and he leaned forward to press their foreheads together. They shared breath for a moment, Obi-Wan breathing in the scent of Anakin's aftershave. He knew this was hard for Anakin - he truly did. He wasn't much for big groups anymore, either, and couldn't imagine what it was like for Anakin, a man who showed the scars of the world's brutality on his body for all to see. But Obi-Wan desperately wanted to be a part of his new community. He was still marked as an outsider, his accent different and his background foreign. His only connection to Canada was Anakin, a man whom he couldn't delight in when they were out in the rest of the world. He needed more.
And he told Anakin as such.
"I know," Anakin said. "I'll go to the party, I'll smile at people, and I'll drink the punch."
"And you'll talk to people?"
"Maybe."
Obi-Wan kissed Anakin - quick and fierce - before pulling away. He managed to get Anakin fully dressed and out the door before Anakin's glower and his grumbles returned, but it was too late - they were in Obi-Wan's Oldsmobile and nothing would stop him from attending the party. Not even the beautiful, bratty boy next to him.
The party was held at Super Intendant Yaddle's house on the other side of the city. The roads were mostly abandoned, a light dusting of snow having scared off travel in the dark hours, and so Obi-Wan took his time around the corners and through the traffic lights, bouncing his hand along the steering wheel to the music trilling through the radio. Anakin remained slunk in his seat, his attention fixed out the window, features highlighted by the streetlights - including his ever present pout. By the time they reached Yaddle's the streets were busier, cars parked along the sidewalks as light spilled forth from a quaint two-story that was painted a beautiful red.
It reminded Obi-Wan a little of a stereotypical barn from postcards he'd seen from his American friends. He found it quite cheerful, especially when it was covered in outdoor Christmas lights, red and oranges, blues and greens framing the gables and windows. The front door was open, light spilling out into the cool December evening as guests walked in and out, some being greeted and others bid goodnight.
They parked a short distance away, and Obi-Wan gave Anakin one last kiss before they stepped out and walked toward the house. Music and raucous laughter could be heard coming from the house, and Obi-Wan briefly wondered what Yaddle's neighbours thought of the party.
When they arrived they were behind a group that Obi-Wan didn't know, a husband and wife with their two small children. One of the boys gave Anakin a one-cover, his attention stopping on Anakin's arm.
"What happened to your arm?" the kid asked, oblivious to his lack of social graces.
Anakin locked eyes with the boy. "A neighbourhood dog bit it off."
The boy's eyes widened, but before Obi-Wan could step in he was being ushered further into the house by his parents, the couple oblivious to the childhood trauma Anakin had just inflicted on their son.
"He's going to be paranoid about dogs now," Obi-Wan remarked as he took his gloves off and stuffed them in his coat pocket.
"He'll grow up to appreciate what an angry dog can do."
"Oh yes, this was all just you trying to teach a young child about the dangers of feral dogs."
"Or it was a lesson in not asking strangers intrusive questions."
Following Anakin into the house Obi-Wan was greeted with a gust of warm air that smelled like gingerbread and cocktails. Immediately he was enveloped in the good cheer; voices bright over the sound of the music, the clink of glasses being tapped together, laughter carrying through the rumble of conversation. A fire burned merrily in the living room, Obi-Wan hearing it as they hung their coats and kicked off their shoes.
Yaddle soon made her way toward the pair, her small frame elbowing through the mass of people to look up at Obi-Wan with a bright grin. She was wearing a necklace that seemed to weigh her down, the pearls and metals sitting across her narrow chest like a cornucopia of costume jewellery. Her hair had been styled earlier in the evening but had started to come out of its strict hold, tendrils of it framing her pink cheeks slightly glassy eyes.
Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin. This was what he'd missed about London - good cheer, vibrancy, and happy drunks.
"Kenobi, it's so good to see you," she said as she shook his hand.
"Thank you for having us." He turned slightly to introduce Anakin into the small circle, his hand firm across Anakin's back. "This is my friend, Anakin - the one I told you about. Who runs the garage?"
Yaddle took Anakin's left hand between both her own, her smile just as enthusiastic as she squeezed tightly. "A pleasure, Anakin. Kenobi has told us so much about you in the staff room. He said you flew Spitfires during the war?"
"Hurricanes," he said. He extracted his hand slowly, his smile tight but still present.
Obi-Wan kept his hand on Anakin's shoulder, massaging the muscles subtly as the crowd of people pressed in.
"Ah yes, Hurricanes, of course," she said over the sudden burst of laughter coming from the living room. "Have you ever heard of Elizabeth MacGill?" Before Anakin could answer, Yaddle started up again. "She ran a factory over in Ontario - during the war, of course. She built Hurricanes, and was known as the Queen of the Hurricanes."
"Yeah, I know," Anakin said.
"Perhaps you flew one of the ones she made?"
"Maybe. If I did, I crashed it somewhere in France."
His smile grew tighter, as did Obi-Wan's grip.
"I apologize," Yaddle said. She threw her hands up and laughed softly. "You can take the teacher out of the school, but you can't take the teaching out of... oh, you know what I mean." She straightened and patted Obi-Wan's arm, her touch warm through the dense fabric of his suit jacket. "I won't keep you from the party, just know that the drinks are at the bar in the living room, food is in the kitchen in the back of the house, and the toilet is upstairs and dead ahead of the stairwell."
"Thank you, Yaddle," Obi-Wan said.
She sent them another smile before she disappeared into the crowd, slipping through the elbows like a shark through the ocean.
"She seems nice," Anakin said.
"She is. Apparently she hosts these parties every year - has for the past twenty or so."
"It's an institution, I guess."
Obi-Wan hadn't expected the party to be quiet as busy as it was, the smell of perfume and alcohol slick in the back of his throat, combined with the haze of smoke as it pooled up above everyone's head. It reminded him a little of when he'd first met Anakin; their shoulders pushed together by the crush of bodies all around them, stale beer and aftershave thick in their noses, excitement and nervousness swirling around, making Obi-Wan's heart beat a little faster as he fell into the netting of the beautiful man next to him.
But it seemed Anakin didn't share in the nostalgia. Obi-Wan could practically feel his anxiety, like quick little pinpricks across the back of Obi-Wan's neck and the palms of his hands. He was stood ram-rod straight next to Obi-Wan, attention focused above everyone's heads as he took in the space they were in, his nostrils flaring now and again like a young colt ready to bolt.
Obi-Wan swallowed down his guilt. It would be good for Anakin to get out and interact.
"Come - let's get drinks, shall we?"
He led Anakin through the throng of people toward the back of the living room where a man whom Obi-Wan didn't recognize prepared drinks next to a Christmas tree covered in tinsel. The man was chatting with some people Obi-Wan also didn't know, his sleeves rolled up, brow slick with perspiration from the heat of the space. He nodded when they approached and stopped his conversation.
"And what can I get for you?" he asked.
Obi-Wan ordered a brandy while Anakin got eggnog, the frothy liquid sitting in a large bowl next to the punch bowl. The man made laughed about how eggnog was supposed to be for the kids, but it was the adults who kept drinking it.
Anakin didn't smile when he was passed his drink, but he did make a surprised noise that Obi-Wan could hear after he took a sip.
"Good?" Obi-Wan asked as he looked through the crowd, trying to find a familiar person or two in amongst the flushed faces.
"Yeah. It's sweet, though."
Obi-Wan nodded and lead Anakin toward a gaggle of coworkers. Poof, Billaba, and Ti were huddled in a corner near the kitchen, drinks in their hands while Ti balanced a small hors d'oeuvres in her other hand, heat radiating off of the small pie. They broke out into identical grins as soon as they saw Obi-Wan, and created a small space by which to allow Obi-Wan and Anakin to join.
He introduced Anakin to the group. Anakin sent them all polite nods before tucking back into his eggnog, his lips pressed against the rim as Ti started asking questions about holidays in the UK versus Canada.
"You know, I spent a few holidays over in the UK," Poof said. When Obi-Wan quirked a brow, Poof continued. "During the Great War - or, I guess we now call it the First one? In any case, I remember you've a fondness for... what was it... a steamed pudding of sorts. But with a unique name."
Obi-Wan sighed. He made sure Anakin didn't have any drink in his mouth before answering. "Spotted dick?"
Anakin choked anyways.
"Yes, that's the one!" Poof said, bright and cheery. "Gosh, it was a delight. I think we ought to put custard on more of our treats here in Canada. Wouldn't you agree?"
"There's a great many things you could learn from us chaps in the UK," Obi-Wan began, "but I've found you've got your fair share of lovely things here, too. I've been asked by a few of my friends back in London if I can bring them some maple syrup."
"Really? I find the stuff far too sweet," Billaba said suddenly.
"That's the point," Ti said.
Anakin remained quiet, eyes focused on the floor as the conversation continued. In fact, he remained quiet for most of the party, adding to it only when Obi-Wan offered up something he could speak to. But the conversation quickly turned to work, and then to summer holidays, and then to how Obi-Wan thought his first semester with the kids was going, and Anakin remained silent and brooding.
As they chatted others came and went from the group, some Obi-Wan knew and others he'd only just met. He'd have been lying if he said he didn't enjoy the sight of so many people, cheeks flush and eyes bright, perfumes and cigar smoke thick about them, and pomade and glittering jewelry shimmering beneath the collection of colourful lights. It had been some time since Obi-Wan enjoyed a party without the oppressive desperation that accompanied his earlier days, when most of the men and women were concerned about if anyone would ask them to dance, or if anyone would find them attractive.
It also helped that there wasn't the shadow of a war looming over them, dark like the cloak of death, muddying and muffling the good cheer, staining it with thoughts that tore and bruised. Everyone seemed happy; everyone seemed excited; everyone seemed to be looking forward to the next step in their lives, and not focused on the here and now and if they'd make it to the next day.
Everyone save Anakin.
He remained next to Obi-Wan the whole time, pressed against his side as he sipped his drinks and eyed the pastries as they passed by on small plates. Obi-Wan sent him off to grab a few, giving him an excuse to leave for a moment, but as soon as Anakin had pilfered the tables in the kitchen he was once again next to Obi-Wan, stuck against his side like a small child afraid to stray too far lest he be approached by a stranger.
Now and again Obi-Wan would touch his shoulder and give it a friendly press, as if to squeeze out the tension that seemed to run roughshod over Anakin's entire body and psyche. Now and again Anakin would seem to relax, his attention flicking to something in the crowd that would give him a sort of dreamy look that made Obi-Wan want to kiss him until they both couldn't breathe, but then something would happen - a loud noise or a flash of a camera going off - and he'd tense up again.
But he did look stunning. His hair glistened like gold beneath the lights, flecks of colour dashed across his cheeks and broad shoulders from the lights on the tree. He was pink from the warmth in the room, his lips plush and picked at as he chewed on the corners now and again. His thick lashes framed his eyes that smoldered from beneath his heavy lids, and now and again Obi-Wan would feel Anakin's gaze on him - focused and locked on, desperate for Obi-Wan's attention.
Halfway through a discussion on fishing, Anakin excused himself.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked, catching his residual arm as he moved.
Anakin stopped and nodded. "Just need some fresh air," he said over the din.
Obi-Wan let him go, holding back a kiss to his cheek, mindful of where they were.
Returning to the conversation, Obi-Wan tapped his fingers against the side of his glass and nodded along. The topic of fishing soon turned to Ti excitedly telling Obi-Wan about the local ski hills up in the mountains, and how he ought to visit as soon as he could - after all, there wasn't much that Canada had going for it in the winter seasons save for their sports. Obi-Wan didn't entirely agree, which lead to another debate about the difference between Canadian and UK winters.
By the time they were finished, twenty minutes had passed and Anakin still hadn't returned. For a moment Obi-Wan thought Anakin had returned to the car and would sleep in the back seat - damn the cold - but then he caught sight of a familiar flash of honey brown across the way. Anakin was stood against a wall, another cigarette in hand that hung casually at his side. His lips were moving, head tilted to the side in a familiar way, eyes focused on someone.
A woman.
Pretty, by all respects, with long blonde hair that sat coiffed and styled atop her head. She was saying something in return, her head tilted up to look at Anakin, neck stretched as if to invite him closer.
And then Anakin started to laugh.
Obi-Wan's throat closed and his chest squeezed; squeezed so tight that for a moment he thought he might pass out. And then as quick as it had come it slipped away, replaced by a deep sense of shame.
Anakin was allowed to talk to other people - handsome people and beautiful people, women and men, those who delighted and others still who attracted and teased. It wasn't as if Obi-Wan expected Anakin to close himself off from all others just because they were married. Married in a non-legal way; married in a way that had to be kept secret and hidden; married in a way where they couldn't wear wedding bands to show their devotion; married in a way where they couldn't lean against each other too much, couldn't look and admire, couldn't seem to be so terribly and utterly infatuated with each other.
Married in a way where they couldn't stand face to face at a party and touch each other’s' arms, laugh against each other’s' necks, and press their lips against the curve of each other’s jaws.
Obi-Wan took swallowed the last of his brandy, the liquid thick and biting as it slid down his throat.
And of course she was pretty, and strong, and coy. Because Anakin was all those things as well. Despite what Anakin thought of his disabilities and the scars that criss-crossed along his body, Anakin was still so terribly beautiful. He was beyond compare. He was an Adonis.
He was Obi-Wan's Adonis.
"Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan glanced over at the group. They were peering at him through the gloom with mild concern.
"Sorry," he said, and coughed into his hand. "I just realized how late it is."
Poof glanced at his watch, his bushy brows rising just a little. "Oh, you're right. It's almost midnight."
"I think I ought to be going," Obi-Wan said with a tight smile. Behind him he could feel the goings on - of familiar laughter and a soft touched along a scarred arm. "I promised another friend I'd come over and help with Christmas dinner early in the morning."
"It was good to see you," Billaba said. "Merry Christmas."
The rest of the group agreed, and for the first time in Canada Obi-Wan believed the sentiment. He supposed he was part of the group now - one of their own.
The excitement of the moment was dulled by seeing Anakin laughing again when Obi-Wan turned around. Obi-Wan wasn't, by nature, a jealous man. Except when it came to Anakin, and then most of what Obi-Wan knew to be true about himself completely and utterly crumbled. He never thought he'd seduce a younger man in some grimy pub in Piccadilly, and yet one look at Anakin and Obi-Wan was tripping over his tongue trying to get to him. And he never thought that, after a night with the inexperienced boy who trembled and whined between his legs, that he'd seek out more - more of his touch and his promises and his grief and his joys - and yet he did. And he certainly never thought he'd pack up his entire life, move to Canada, and set down roots with the boy...
And yet here he was: years into a secretive marriage, shoving his way through a crowd of party-goers, attention fixed on that same beautiful boy who transfixed and captivated and made Obi-Wan into an obsessive, jealous man - a foolish man - who would willingly fall to his knees and worship between his legs until he ceased to exist but in his devotion to Anakin.
Or maybe it was the brandy talking.
Anakin's attention quickly snapped to Obi-Wan the moment he broke through the gaggle of women who were so drunk they were crashing into each other. Obi-Wan's ego was immediately soothed when Anakin turned to him fully, the woman he was speaking to apparently forgotten and ignored. He smiled when he saw Obi-Wan, a soft, hesitant little thing that made Obi-Wan's heart stutter.
"Obi-Wan," he said, voice a little rough from how he had to shout to be heard above the noise. He turned to look at the woman who was still standing there, her smile dropping slightly when she realized that Anakin was about to flee. "Uh, this is Aurra. Aurra, this is my friend, Obi-Wan."
They shook hands, Aurra's surprisingly sturdy.
"A pleasure," he said.
"Aurra was in the air force too," Anakin remarked. "Women's Division."
Obi-Wan quirked a brow. "Oh? Did you go overseas or stay here?"
"I served at Trenton for a bit, before I was sent to London to work in Record's Keeping."
Obi-Wan relaxed a little. She was one of them. Of course Anakin would be drawn to that...
But the reassurance did little for Obi-Wan's sudden arousal.
"We were just laughing about how an Officers' party in the mess would make this event look like a very civil affair," Aurra continued.
"If a piano isn't set on fire at some point, it's not a real party," Anakin further explained.
Anakin finally turned to look at Obi-Wan, and when their eyes caught the mood suddenly switched. It was as if someone had pushed Obi-Wan up against the fire, heat and excitement radiating on to him from merely a look from his Adonis. Anakin's head tilted casually to the side, his expression softening before a small smirk slipped across his lips.
"We should go." Anakin didn't phrase it as a question.
Obi-Wan nodded. "It's getting late." He turned back to Aurra who seemed completely oblivious to the sudden tension between the two, her eyes heavy lidded and drink already finished. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Aurra, but it's getting rather late and I've promises to attend to tomorrow morning."
"He's my ride," Anakin said, though he didn't spare Aurra much of a second glance.
Obi-Wan would reprimand him for being rude later.
"It's no trouble," Aurra said. "It was nice meeting you, Anakin. Maybe we'll run into each other at another party."
Anakin finally looked away from Obi-Wan, but the heat of his gaze was instantly missed. Standing off to the side he let Anakin shake her hand and give her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling him toward the door. They dressed in a rush, Obi-Wan catching Yaddle's eyes as he slipped his shoes on. He sent her a quick goodbye and an equally quick thank you before he and Anakin stumbled out into the cold, refreshing air.
The streets were a little quieter, the guests with children having left earlier in the evening. But there was still noise tumbling out of the house, the lights warm across the sidewalk, reflecting the snow crystals. Obi-Wan held on to Anakin's hand even though they were still in public, tugging him along and sharing warmth as they hurried to the car. Anakin was laughing, and Obi-Wan chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about swallowing the sound up and pocketing it for later - for times when Anakin's laugh was a little less bright.
They separated when they got to the car, Obi-Wan fumbling with his keys until they could both get inside. As soon as they were seated in the safety of the dark canopy, Obi-Wan crushed his lips against Anakin's. He tasted of eggnog, sweet and spiced, as well as some of the cookies he'd eaten from the kitchen, a touch of raspberry jam mixing with the rest. His mouth was hungry against Obi-Wan's, tongue hot and slick against Obi-Wan's, his moans mixing with Obi-Wan's frantic breathing. Obi-Wan surged further forward, pressing Anakin up against the side door as they continued their embrace. Anakin's grip was brutal against the back of Obi-Wan's skull, fingers tugging at his hair, and Obi-Wan let out a soft hiss that Anakin seemed to take delight in, his laughter slipping past that Obi-Wan felt in his cock.
"Took you long enough," Anakin mumbled against Obi-Wan's lips. "You were giving me looks all night."
Obi-Wan felt further heat rise into his cheeks, but he didn't dwell on the prospect of others having caught on to what Anakin meant to Obi-Wan. Instead he pulled away and started the car, satisfied he'd left Anakin in an equally disheveled state.
"Let's get you home," he mumbled as he pulled out on to the abandoned roads.
Anakin remained where he was, tucked in the corner of the seat, looking at Obi-Wan through the flash of lights across the windshield. Obi-Wan focused on task at hand, noting that the roads were rather slick, but every once in a while he chanced a glance at Anakin. His eyes were like jewels in the dark, focused and sharp, luring Obi-Wan in despite the dangers that lurked below. Obi-Wan had mussed up his hair a little, the styled hold giving way to a tangle of curls with one lock draped across his brow.
Anakin licked his bottom lip when they pulled up to a light, and Obi-Wan reached out to drag his thumb along it, collecting the spit before taking his hand back.
By the time they got back to the house Obi-Wan was already in a state of severe arousal, and could see Anakin was in much the same state, a small tent visible in his slacks as he shifted so that his jacket slipped open across his lap. They ran up to the house, and Obi-Wan almost had the door open when he heard a muffled 'shit' and turned around to see Anakin crashing down on to the sidewalk, feet kicked out from under him.
Obi-Wan began to laugh.
"Are you alright?" he asked as he carefully walked down to help Anakin up.
Anakin sent him a soft glare in the dark but accepted the hand-up anyways, despite Obi-Wan's persistent laughter. "I'm fine," he mumbled as he brushed the snow from his shoulder.
"For such a graceful looking man, you sure do fall a lot."
"You try being this tall and not tripping on your own feet."
"Are you implying I'm short?"
"No." Anakin sniffed and brushed the back of his hand across his nose. "Just saying you're more... squat."
Obi-Wan had always admired Anakin's unique ability to both please and annoy Obi-Wan in equal measure. Here he was, insulting Obi-Wan by calling him squat, and yet Obi-Wan still wanted to kiss him, mark him, cover him in his sweat and spit, bury his nose against the seam of his thigh and breath in deep.
"Well, you're gangly," Obi-Wan retorted before heading back up the steps to the door.
"Gangly?" Anakin repeated.
He was pressed in close, his 'gangly' form hot against Obi-Wan's back as he opened the door. They stumbled inside, the warmth of the house washing over their cold cheeks and the tips of their noses.
"Yes," Obi-Wan said. He turned around and stared at Anakin through the soft light of the tree. The house was dark save for the light up Christmas tree as it sat tucked away in a corner. Obi-Wan knew they'd run up the electric bill keeping it on all night, but he liked to come home to a tree that was light up and glowing warmly in a corner. "Gangly like a foal," he continued.
"I am not gangly," Anakin mumbled, but before Obi-Wan could retort Anakin closed the gap.
Anakin's hand was cold across Obi-Wan's cheek, but he didn't mind. It was a contrast to the warmth of his body as he pressed in close, wool and layers of cotton trapping in Anakin's heat. Obi-Wan quickly got to work on Anakin's many layers, fingers fumbling across the buttons and suspenders and silk tie. All the while Anakin kept kissing Obi-Wan quick and fierce or slow and tantalizing, the ghost of a smile and his soft gasps dancing across Obi-Wan's lips.
Eventually they parted. Anakin was partially undressed; shirt and undershirt divested along with his jacket and tie. He didn't shy from Obi-Wan's admiring gaze, even when Obi-Wan traced the webbing of scars along his peck and down his side. Instead he got to work on Obi-Wan's jacket, his movements slower as he worked the buttons open. But he'd become quite deft with just the use of one hand, fingers nimble as he slipped the buttons out and pushed Obi-Wan's jacket on to the floor. He got to work on Obi-Wan's tie and then his shirt before Obi-Wan lost his composure and closed the gap with a growl.
They stumbled back further into the house, Obi-Wan tearing off his shirt and undershirt before pushing Anakin down on to the couch. He collapsed on top of him, knee stuck firm between Anakin's legs that Anakin immediately began rutting against. He was panting against Obi-Wan's mouth, breath hot and skittered across his already flush skin, body firm and cock hard as it pressed against Obi-Wan's leg.
"Such an eager thing," Obi-Wan whimpered against Anakin's lips.
"Eager foal?" Anakin mumbled, his teeth nipping at Obi-Wan's bottom lip.
Obi-Wan chuckled and sat up. He divested Anakin of his trousers and underpants in quick order, throwing them across the room so they landed on the radio. Anakin wiggled beneath Obi-Wan, completely nude and painted in a kaleidoscope of colours from the lights on the tree. Blues and reds, greens and yellows dashed across the dips and grooves of his stomach and chest, up along his neck and across his jaw. His lips were shimmering with spit, cheeks dappled with light and shadow, neck taught and stretched out as he stared up at Obi-Wan with hooded eyes, allowing Obi-Wan his admiration and adoration.
This too had become easier over time - Anakin opening his body up to Obi-Wan, letting his focus linger on all parts of his body as he stretched and preened under Obi-Wan's gaze. Before he used to curl in a little, try and hide the scars and the hurt with shadows and humility. But now he lay exposed in all the ways he could, head resting on the cushions of the couch, his residual arm hooked over-top his head, scarred muscles flexed and stretched as they were dappled with warm light.
"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Obi-Wan asked, his own voice thick with arousal.
Anakin smiled, a soft little thing that made Obi-Wan's cock press harder against the seam of his trousers. "Maybe a few times. Doesn't hurt to hear it, though."
Obi-Wan sighed as he collapsed on top of Anakin. Anakin enveloped him in his arms, his hand hot against the slick stretches of skin along Obi-Wan's shoulder, fingertips pressing into the muscles as they licked at each other’s' tongues and ground their erections together - Obi-Wan's clothed against Anakin's exposed. But Obi-Wan wanted more - wanted to feel Anakin's cock in his mouth, filling him up, claiming him as his own. He wanted to taste his spend along his palate, feel the stretch of his lips as he was split apart, and hear Anakin's desperate little whimpers as he was devoured completely.
Anakin was his; despite the secrecy, despite the bigotry of the world that wouldn't allow them to hold hands at a party, despite the fear and anxiety of being caught. Anakin's was his - in all ways and in every way.
He broke the kiss and slipped down Anakin's body, lips hot and tongue wet across Anakin's jaw and down his neck, and further still as Obi-Wan kissed across his collarbone before ducking down to lick Anakin's scarred pit. Anakin let out a huff and pressed up into the touch, his hand curling along the back of Obi-Wan's skull as Obi-Wan kissed his pit before going further and further down, until he was crouched at the end of the couch, knelt between Anakin's spread legs.
Anakin let one leg fall off the couch, the other hooked over the back as his cock bobbed between his legs. This too was such a beautiful sight, Anakin's long and slightly curved cock pulsing between the hallowed space between his legs. His foreskin was pulled back, the red, wet head of his cock leaking across his stomach, catching in the dusting of hair across his belly and around the base of his length. His balls were pulled up tight, full and ready, and Obi-Wan ducked down to press his nose against the curve of Anakin's thigh as he sucked one of his balls into his mouth.
A soft sigh slipped through the space, mixing with Obi-Wan's whimpers as the salty taste of Anakin's groin flooded his mouth. Squeezing his eyes shut he breathed in Anakin's scent - thick and musky - as he sucked and licked his balls, composure giving way to desperation as he supplicated before his Adonis. Anakin's touch was insistent, grip tight along the back of Obi-Wan's head as he pushed him down on to his crotch, dragging his balls along Obi-Wan's tongue before pushing back in.
Obi-Wan could live down here, tucked between Anakin's legs, smelling his sex and tasting it across his palate. He loved how warm Anakin was; loved the contrast of the softness of his skin with the hardness of his cock; loved how Anakin mewled and groaned and gasped; loved how Anakin's scent streaked across his skin like a perfume - coating Obi-Wan, staining him in his essence.
With one hurried hand he reached between his legs and undid his trouser buttons before finally pulling his cock out. He hissed as it was exposed to the muggy air, already over stimulated after having been left wanting for so long. Sitting up a little, he began jacking his cock as he licked a long stripe across Anakin's own length, repeating the motion a few times before reaching the tip. He locked eyes with Anakin in the kaleidoscope of colours before taking him all the way down to the hilt.
"Obi-Wan!" Anakin let out a cry as Obi-Wan took him as far as he could, his leg dropping from the back of the couch to lock Obi-Wan in place, his heel digging into Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan buried his nose in his curls and settled.
The head of Anakin's cock settled in Obi-Wan's throat, his length stretching Obi-Wan's lips apart, salty precome coating Obi-Wan's mouth. The sensation of holding Anakin like this - deep inside, where Obi-Wan could feel each pulse, each throb, could feel Anakin quiver and shake - made Obi-Wan delirious with desire and pleasure. He wanted to scream, to rage, to roar out his love for Anakin; stain the fabric of the world with his adoration; find the centre of the universe and mark their devotion across the darkness of space.
It was a base act - sucking cock - but Anakin turned it into a religious experience.
Eventually he had to lift his head, a slick sound escaping as he sat back and brushed his hand along his bottom lip. Anakin gasped, his cock shimmering with Obi-Wan's spit, bouncing away with every frantic heartbeat. His chest was heaving, stomach fluttering, his skin shimmering with sweat as the colours from the tree lights continued to dance across his form. They took a moment to catch their breath, their eyes locked as they basked in the moment of this.
Years together and this never lost its magic. Just the two of them, wrapped in each other's lives, stitched into the very fabric of each other’s' existence. It had felt like centuries had passed when they were apart, and so it was only right that each moment they had together felt just as long.
"Ready, darling?"
Anakin bit his bottom lip and nodded.
Obi-Wan ducked back down and started bobbing, his throat relaxing as he pushed down and then back up. He created an easy pace, the slick sound of his mouth and spit along Anakin's cock coalescing with Anakin's breathy moans and soft praises, his words stuttering as he told Obi-Wan how much he loved this - how good it felt, how good he felt. As he choked on Anakin's length, Obi-Wan continued to stroke his own cock, his touch frantic as his mouth was flooded with more of Anakin's taste. Swallowing back whatever Anakin could give him, Obi-Wan suckled on the head, tongue pressing against the slit of Anakin's cock to tease out more before he dropped his head back down and took him in full.
"I-I'm close," Anakin whispered. He was tugging on Obi-Wan's hair, movements quick and frantic as he tried to pull Obi-Wan off.
Getting the hint after the third rough pull, Obi-Wan slipped off and sat back on the couch, his cock stuck up between his legs. Once again they stopped, both catching their breath. Anakin spread his legs a little more and reached down to tug at his balls, his eyes locked on to Obi-Wan's cock as it remained jutted out between his legs. Obi-Wan knew they were both close but didn't care, delighting too much in every sensation - ever shudder of pleasure across his groin, every skitter in the back of his skull, every pulse as his cock let out another pearl of precome and then another, until he was wet all over.
"Like what you see?" Obi-Wan asked as he gripped the base of his cock and slapped the head against the palm of his hand.
"Y-yeah," Anakin said. He squeezed on his balls a little harder.
"Not too squat?"
Anakin rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot."
"A squat idiot."
"You're not squat," Anakin said. He sat up and moved to kiss Obi-Wan, deep and fierce. When they parted Anakin was breathless once more, his skin rubbed raw by Obi-Wan's mustache. "You're strong... you're solid."
"Solid is better."
"Yeah?"
"Much better."
Anakin climbed on to Obi-Wan's lap, the pair sitting precariously on a couch that was too narrow for two grown men to sit astride on. Bracing one foot on the floor, Obi-Wan kept Anakin from tumbling off his lap by holding him close, his arms wrapped tight around Anakin's narrow waist. Reaching between them Anakin pressed their cocks together. Obi-Wan let out a huff when Anakin began stroking them, foreskins sliding up and then down, a slick sound breaking out into the muggy room as Anakin jacked them off. He hooked his residual arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders and pressed their foreheads together, their eyes locked as they focused on the sensations between them.
Anakin's touch was firm, callouses sliding along their lengths, heightening the sensation. His breath was hot against Obi-Wan's lips, still tasting of sweets that delighted, and his little moans settled in Obi-Wan's chest, warm and inviting. And all for him.
Sucking in a deep breath, Obi-Wan swirled spit around in his mouth before dropping it down on to their lengths. Anakin let out a soft moan, and without missing a beat he collected it with his palm before sliding it down their cocks, adding to the mess between them.
"You're so wet," Obi-Wan whispered, and chanced another glance down at their groins to see the slit of Anakin's cock-head expelling another stream of precome. "Always so slick, so hard... so eager."
"It's all because of you," Anakin mumbled.
Obi-Wan looked back up and locked eyes with Anakin. A moment passed, quick like lightening as they rocked together, and in that moment Obi-Wan knew it truly was all for him - and it always would be. Closing his eyes he closed the gap, nipping Anakin's bottom lip before pulling at it. Anakin let out another gasp before he started grinding their cocks together, his touch more frantic, and his rocking motions more forceful.
Grabbing the back of Anakin's neck Obi-Wan pulled him in for a deep kiss, their tongues rubbing and lips pressing as they breathed into each other's mouths. A few more brush of their lips and Anakin came, a loud groan accompanying the action. Breaking the kiss Obi-Wan hugged Anakin, holding him close as he shuddered through his orgasm. Pushing his face against Anakin's neck Obi-Wan breathed him in, his nose pressed against the soft skin marked with freckles and moles that Obi-Wan had kissed and traced and loved more times than he could count.
"Obi-Wan," Anakin panted, desperate little sounds slipping into each syllable as he spilled between them, ribbons of come splashed across Obi-Wan's stomach and trousers.
It didn't take long for Obi-Wan to come either, his cock pulsing between them as Anakin shuddered in his lap. Anakin continued to stroke Obi-Wan, his thumb pushing against the slit of Obi-Wan's cock, pressing the ribbons of come into the spongy head. Biting Anakin's shoulder, Obi-Wan sucked a mark into the vulnerable flesh and relished in the sensations of his release. Anakin's skin was salty and smelled of aftershave and Obi-Wan's own breath, brandy sweet and cloying sucked back into his throat as he marked Anakin.
When they were done Obi-Wan fell back on the couch with Anakin following him. The back of his skull was dug uncomfortably into the armrest but he didn't dare move - not when he had Anakin curled up on top of him, body still shaking from their shared orgasm.
"Always so sensitive," Obi-Wan mumbled against Anakin's temple.
Anakin didn't respond. Instead he sighed and pressed his nose against Obi-Wan's jawline, his lips soft across his neck.
They lay like that for a time, both coming down from their shared release. Obi-Wan stared up at the ceiling, the light from the tree making Obi-Wan feel as if he were beneath the waves of a vast ocean at sunset.
"Obi-Wan?"
Anakin's voice broke through the sound of the surf, and Obi-Wan blinked back the waters to look up at Anakin. He was still flushed, cheeks pink with exertion and mirth, his expression soft. Obi-Wan tilted into Anakin's touch as he cupped his cheek, his thumb slightly sticky from their come as he pet Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan didn't mind.
"Yes?" he asked. Before Anakin could continue he turned to kiss Anakin's palm, lips pressed tight against the delicate skin.
"You know I'm yours, right?"
Obi-Wan blinked and looked up at Anakin, his lips still pressed against his pulse. Anakin looked at him with a determined glint in his eyes - the same look when he wanted Obi-Wan to know; know that he was being serious, that there would be no changing his mind. That he'd settled, and there was no room for argument.
"Was I that transparent?" Obi-Wan asked.
Anakin shrugged. "A little."
Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes. Anakin's touch was hot against his cheek, a little quiver just beneath that let Obi-Wan know he was still coming down from his orgasm. Relaxing further into the couch, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up at Anakin. Anakin was flush, beads of sweat pearled up along his shoulders and the stretches of his chest. His curls were plastered to his temples and the length of his neck, and Obi-Wan reached up to card his fingers in them before digging into the knots at the base of Anakin's neck.
Anakin's eyes fluttered closed at the motion, and he sighed softly when Obi-Wan's grip tightened. Holding Anakin in place, Obi-Wan marveled in the moment before relaxing his grip. Anakin rolled his head forward and opened his eyes, exposing pupils that were once again blown wide. His cock twitched between them, Obi-Wan feeling it against his stomach.
"I know," he finally said.
Anakin's brows furrowed a little. "I don't think you do know, Obi-Wan. I am more than just yours - you're inside of me, Obi-Wan. You're a part of me. You're in my blood, my tears, my come. You're in my laughter and my rage. You're in the marrow of my bones and inside my guts." He pressed his hand hard against Obi-Wan's sternum, pushing down on muscle and bone until Obi-Wan felt like he couldn't breathe properly. "You're me, Obi-Wan, and I'm you."
It was theatrical; gauche; a little morbid. And it was entirely Anakin.
"You've been reading too many of those pulp paperbacks," Obi-Wan said. He gripped Anakin's wrist and held his hand where it was, pressed against his heart, touch burning and steady. "But... but I know, Anakin. I know because I feel the same."
Anakin smiled then, hesitation slipping from his features until he settled back down, head resting on Obi-Wan's chest, his hand still perched atop Obi-Wan's heart. They were still sticky and hot, and Obi-Wan was still trapped in his trousers, but he let Anakin settle on top. Glancing at his watch he noted it was well into the midnight hour.
"Happy Christmas, Anakin," Obi-Wan mumbled.
Anakin grunted and burrowed into Obi-Wan a little harder. "Merry Christmas, old man."