“My ships blow up all the time, I don't get why you're so upset about this one.”
“Because you were in it when it happened!”
Obi-Wan charged angrily after Anakin, who in turn was angry at the Council's decision to finally ground him at the Temple after another reckless mission.
“I got all the hostages out, and decimated the enemy base!” Anakin practically kicked down the door to their apartment, swallowing a fantastic wince of pain as he did.
“Along with a litany of internal bleeding, and likely several other injuries that need to be seen to ”
“I told you I'm fine!” Anakin threw his arms out, teeth bared. “I can handle this, Obi-Wan! Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who can!”
There was something edging on desperation in his voice. Anakin was thrumming with the Force, hot and violent and alive.
“Anakin, you know that's not the case.” Obi-Wan said tersely. He was too angry himself to be much in the mood to play the role of his ex-padawan's voice of reason, but all the same found himself falling into step in the role. “You have brothers and sisters in the Jedi order, you have me,”
Anakin's scoff hit Obi-Wan like a punch to the gut.
“I beg your pardon," Obi-Wan enunciated each word with distinguished rage, throwing his robe off and aside.
“You heard me.” Anakin rounded on him, eyes blazing. “You say that now but I'm not the one whose tail constantly needs saving in dog fights due to flying my ship like a three-legged bantha!”
“Oh I do apologize! Flying as one does without a constant death wish must be terribly confusing!”
“I fly with a death wish because it's the only way I can keep you safe!” Anakin moved to seize the front of Obi-Wan's robes, only to have his wrist grabbed and his body turned.
“I can keep myself safe just fine, Anakin!” Obi-Wan roared, pinning him roughly to the wall. “But I can't when I worry about you!”
Anakin glared at him, looking prideful and wrathful and hurt all at once.
There was a heated pause of a moment where the two locked gazes, already breathing roughly from exertion.
Their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss.
Of the two, Anakin was the one who took the stronger initiative, pinning Obi-Wan against the wall of the apartment, the kiss all violence and passion. Obi-Wan went briefly soft against him, before seizing him by the shoulders and pushing back.
“No!” He demanded. “You will not distract from the topic at hand!”
Anakin surged forward, undeterred. Hands had moved roughly under Obi-Wan's clothes, grasping at his skin, heated and flush from anger. A knee knocked between Obi-Wan's legs, rising up to grind against him.
Obi-Wan threw his head back and snarled as teeth sank into the crook of his neck. He did not need this right now. Anakin knew how to get him riled up on any given day. But he was already several weeks late in his cycle. He should have laid seed days ago. It was the first thing he should have seen to once they arrived in Coruscant.
He had planned to.
He would have.
If it wasn't for his arrogant-
Obi-Wan snarled, meeting Anakin's kiss roughly.
- Stubborn -
He pulled at Anakin's hair as he moved against him bodily, his hips grinding forward causing much needed friction.
- Disaster of a former padawan. Who seemed desperate to get himself blown to pieces whenever they went into battle.
The two fell into bed, clothing trailing behind them. This was hardly the first time they had done this. War was hell. The two frequently were left in states of agitation or heightened adrenaline. Stressed and angry and full of emotion that could only be released so effectively into the Force. What had started as a one-time, never-again momentary lapse of judgment was now becoming an alarmingly frequent affair – particularly when either of them were feeling heated or stressed.
Right now, both of them were.
The bedside drawer shot out of the table like a bullet as a Force-summoned bottle of lube flew into Anakin's hand. With his other, he seized Obi-Wan by the back of the neck, positioning himself behind him.
“You will not.” Obi-Wan seized him in turn, using a surprisingly nimble defensive maneuver that used Anakin's own strength against him, leaving him splayed out beneath Obi-Wan. He made a delicious sight, hard planes of golden skin striped by battle scars. In the years since his padawan braid was cut, Anakin had filled out into a ravishingly handsome specimen of a man.
Far too many people knew it for Obi-Wan's liking.
Anakin's legs were splayed unabashed, cock half-hard. There was hardly a thing submissive about his stance. If he was to be taken, it would be a fight the entire way down.
Obi-Wan ended up wrestling Anakin into a rough hold, the knight's arms pinned behind his back, face-down on the pillow. Waves of vicious delight emanated off of Anakin as Obi-Wan prepped him roughly as he knew Anakin wanted. He hated to be held or taken gently when they went at it like this. Obi-Wan suspected it helped to mitigate lingering doubts or guilt over such a flagrant disregard for the Jedi code.
He quickly worked his way up to three fingers, while Anakin's muscled hips rutting against the mattress, seeking friction.
“C'mon, what are you waiting for?” Anakin whined, hugging the pillow tightly, pushing his hips back.
Obi-Wan frowned, twisting another finger in roughly, hoping to silence him but was only rewarded with a strangled moan of delight.
“One of us has to mind your physical limitations.” Obi-Wan chided. His middle finger brushed against Anakin's prostate, causing him to shiver with desire.
“I'm fine, just put it in – please!”
Obi-Wan groaned softly. His own cock painfully hard. He tried to ignore the heavy throb of his sac, full and aching inside of him at the base of his spine. Anakin carrying on like a lothcat in heat certainly wasn't helping things. He could taste waves of heady arousal rolling off of Anakin in waves, who couldn't be bothered in the slightest keeping any of his feelings in check. Normally Obi-Wan paid it no mind. But Anakin's unchecked tide of delicious, virile hormones made navigating his own breeding instincts a tricky endeavor. As a Stewjonian, Obi-Wan was often baffled by species who couldn't smell, taste or perceive their own arousal.
Obi-Wan shoved his own secondary mating instincts into check, rolling Anakin onto his back and hooked a leg over his shoulder, pushing inside.
Anakin keened shamelessly, thrusting up to meet him.
Fingers dug into Obi-Wan's hips as Anakin fought to set the pace even as he was taken, rolling and humping up against the hard, hot cock inside of him.
“Yes, just like that! Obi-Wan, please-”
They had barely started, and Anakin was already practically incoherent. His own cock bounced hard and leaking against his stomach as he moved.
Obi-Wan's head fell forward with a feral snarl. Anakin was so tight. His mind half gone from the pure bliss of being surrounded by him, so slick and hot.
They fit together so damn well – it was impossible not to think it each time they coupled like this. Regardless of who was taking who, they always fell smoothly into a beautifully seamless rhythm.
Their training bond bloomed, a heady medley of lust and desire creating a feedback loop connecting their minds as Obi-Wan pounded into him. Beneath it all, a growing undercurrent throbbed from a point of light at the small of his back;
Mate. Take him. Fill him. Mate him. Mine. MINE.
“Harder!” Anakin demanded, grabbing at Obi-Wan's hips, the nails digging in, tight enough to bruise. He could feel Anakin pleasure through their bond, swelling and mounting beautifully. Obi-Wan took a very un-Jedi like vicious sort of satisfaction in in this – that he alone was one who could bring Anakin to such a heightened state of pleasure.
Anakin was his to care for.
He had no right to treat his body like an expendable thing. The very thought caused him to grind his teeth together, rutting powerfully into Anakin's body. His lower stomach lurched and heaved – the motion lost in their animalistic rutting as his body's impulses seized control.
The final sharp of pain, combined with lust and Obi-Wan's overextended urges finally put him over the edge. With a few final sharp thrusts, Anakin went rigid as a powerful orgasm ripped through him.
Through their bond, Obi-Wan could taste the rich satisfaction flooding through him of Anakin. An undercurrent of smug delight as his cum streaked across his stomach.
He'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
The two were right back where they were every time they had this fight. They would argue, tussle, fuck, collapse in sated exhaustion. And the next time they were called into battle, Anakin was going to throw himself into the fray, a little more tired – a little more headstrong than before.
This was unacceptable.
Obi-Wan pinned down Anakin by the hips, the Force carrying the sway of the motion crushing down around his shoulders. Anakin gasped with a loose laugh, his body still thrumming and giddy from the intensity of his orgasm. The point at the base of Obi-Wan's spine swelled and crested over him. The familiar, rich sensation thrummed across his body, to the tips of the fingers and the roof of his mouth.
Obi-Wan couldn't stop it now, as he felt the slick viscous fluid beginning to pump out from the glands at the base of his cock. This came first, readying the carrier to receive him.
“Ah, yeah – come in me Obi-Wan” Anakin purred, arching his back rolling into it, his arms stretched over his head.
“Not yet.” Obi-Wan said darkly, continuing to move. He grasped Anakin's wrists, keeping him pinned there. “I'm going to teach you a lesson, padawan.”
Anakin's smile faltered, looking at Obi-Wan with a sneer.
“I'm not a padawan,” His grin faltered as his eyes began to glaze over. It didn't take long for the secondary affect of those glands to take affect. Through their open and ragged bond Obi-Wan could distantly sense a warm, blissful haze taking over Anakin's body and mind.
Slowly, Anakin slumped back against the pillows, his body relaxed and swaying easily to the steady relentless motion of the fat cock pumping into him. A low moan of delight rumbled deep from the back of his chest.
“That's it dear one, relax.”
“What... going on?” He mumbled, though he didn't sound particularly bothered to care. A bloom of heat rose up from his lower stomach, spreading out to his fingers and toes. “That... ah, master – it feels good,”
“You're very sensitive to this.” Obi-Wan said thickly. “I knew you would be.”
Obi-Wan watched as Anakin slowly succumbed and drowned in a blissful state of lassitude. While Anakin's cock was still beautifully hard and flush, every other muscle in his body slowly un-knit and relaxed into a display of beautiful submission.
Anakin moved pliantly as Obi-Wan adjusted his thighs to better take his cock. Honeyed beads of slick rolled down his thighs.
Perfect, he was perfect. The sight and the scent of it was overwhelming.
The primal chant of - Mate. Take. Keep. Mine. Thrummed through every fiber of his being. His cock continued to swell.
The soft, needy moans lovingly drawn out from Anakin rang beautiful to him. He looked up at Obi-Wan through thick lashes and heavy lidded eyes.
“Did you... drug me?” He sounded too serene to be upset.
“You're alright Anakin. It's not a drug, it's just... me.” He finished with a soft grunt. His body ground deep inside of Anakin, now nearly doubled in girth. It throbbed heavily, each pulse sending a warm pulse of heat deep inside Anakin's body, causing his toes to curl and his lips to quiver around soft mewls of delight.
Distantly, Anakin was aware he should have been more alarmed by all of this.
But it took a massive effort to summon any emotions at all apart from the sensation of feeling safe and full, pinned in place by Obi-Wan's body on him and inside him.
“Good, just relax. You'll feel better very soon.” Obi-Wan cupped his cheek, stroking it fondly.
Feeling better? He already felt amazing. Anakin turned his head, seeking Obi-Wan's fingers with his lips. Obi-Wan's thumb traced his lower lip, which Anakin mindlessly took into his mouth, suckling on it desperately for... for something.
Obi-Wan shuddered. Somehow, the base of Obi-Wan's cock swelled even further. Something bulbous and heavy at the base of his cock pushed against Anakin's entrance.
“What is that?”
“Don't fight it Anakin, take it. That's it, good boy...”
Anakin's back arched back, his body strung taught. The large, soft orb was pushed against him, meeting minimal resistance before sliding inside. Another dribble of the strange lube trickled out of him as it passed.
Anakin made a keening, questioning sound. It should have hurt, Anakin should have felt like he was being split in half. But instead the only felt the heady rush of overwhelming endorphins. That same sensation of bonelessness washed over him again, any trace of resistance washing up and away with the tide.
Another massive swell rose as another egg slid inside. They felt soft. Their membranes thick and slick. With the third, an involuntary groan was pulled out deep from him.
“You're doing so well, Anakin.” Obi-Wan soothed. The praise rolled over him like a physical thing, a warm heavy blanket grounding him.
How many more had he taken? They came one after another. The sensation of the orbs pushing in, each accompanied by a chemical rush of pure pleasure he could taste at the back of his throat and the roof of his mouth. His entire body was singing, a vehicle of utter serenity.
“That's it, we're almost there.” Obi-Wan took Anakin's wrist, kissing each knuckle. He placed Anakin's hand against his own swollen abdomen. The eggs had gathered there, somehow stretched wide without breaking smooth skin. Anakin pressed his hand there, feeling the dimples of a dozen soft eggs that had filling him.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look to me just now?” Obi-Wan sounded breathless, spent. The strange ritual appeared to have been completed. He could feel Obi-Wan's cock returning to its normal size inside him. His hair was mussed, fallen into his eyes. He was panting, breathless. His eyes blown wide with desire for Anakin.
“So plump and full,”Obi-Wan praised, resuming a slow, leisurely fuck. “You'd look beautiful with flowers in your hair.” He had told Anakin about them before, the Carriers of Stewjon, who wore white robes and garlands, revered and adored in their society, docile as lambs and wanting for nothing while they carried young to term.
“You feel good don't you, my lovely boy?”
“Yes, master,” Anakin moaned, his head tilted back, his hand still resting on his distended stomach. Obi-Wan's thrusting was slow and deep – utterly smooth and painless.
Frissons of worry were smoothed away before they had any time to take hold and form. His mind failed to grasp and form any sort of coherent questions.
Obi-Wan thrust in again, toppling Anakin over into another drawn out and luxuriant orgasm. His legs ached and trembled. Obi-Wan kissed each knee reverently, gently easing Anakin onto his side. Hot kisses peppered his shoulders and neck. He didn't resist as one leg was nudged forward and Obi-Wan's hot erection pushed back inside him – the man's lust still hours away from being slacked.
Anakin keened, nuzzling his sweaty brow into the pillow as the sensation caused him to see stars.
The morning light from Coruscant was fresh and bright. Anakin woke up peacefully, wrapped up tight in a snug swaddle of the beds sheets and blankets.
He could smell fresh caf brewing out in the kitchen.
His arms were crossed over his middle, his stomach smooth and flat.
He felt serene, in no particular hurry to extricate himself from the bed. He was dimly aware of plans he had made for today, half-formed notions to storm the Council and demand the decision be repealed, to rage to Palpatine or Padme or anyone who might listen.
Instead, he felt quite at peace with the idea of staying right where he was, wrapped up and comfortable.
Eventually, Anakins's curiosity won out. After a brief struggle, he managed to extricate himself from the blanket nest, running his hands over his bare middle again. His skin felt supple and smooth.
Experimentally, Anakin stretched his arms wide over his head, twisting from side to side.
While he wasn't about to tell Obi-Wan, that blast ejecting from the wrecked ship had done something of a number on him. But the residual pain and soreness had vanished entirely.
He stood up, unbothered as ever by his own nakedness in front of the wide transparasteel windows overlooking Coruscant. There were stranger matters to see to.
Anakin turned to a floor-length mirror.
He looked fine. Normal.
Upon closer inspection though, Anakin discovered a number of other minor curiosities.
The semi-permanent dark circles under his eyes were entirely gone.
His face appeared fuller.
The singed hair on his right eyebrow had entirely regrown, and the hair on his head appeared to have grown by several centimeters.
“Obi-Wan?”Anakin tried and failed to make himself sound as normal as possible as threw on a pair of sleep pants, striding out into the main area of the apartment.
“Good morning, Anakin. Did you sleep well?” Obi-Wan was sitting at the kitchen table. A data pad balanced in one hand, a cup of caf in the other. “I've made breakfast.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“No, I should think not. You likely won't be for a few days.” Obi-Wan agreed amicably, looking up at him as he took a sip.
“A few days, huh?” Anakin sat down heavily next to him, doing his best to muster up a glower. “Anything else I should know about?” He was surprised to find that he wasn't feeling angrier with Obi-Wan in that moment.
By rights, they should have started up their argument right where they left off the night before. Instead, Anakin was fighting the urge to nuzzle against Obi-Wan's side to demand affection.
He must be needing caf.
“Yes. You'll likely feel a bit stronger, but your reflexes will be slower. I would avoid physical confrontation as your balance will be off due to this, which shouldn't be a problem while you're grounded at the temple.” Obi-Wan continued, as though they were discussing a new training regimen.
“For the next few weeks your blood type will be both a universal and receiver. You'll be immune to the common cold for a while...” Obi-Wan trailed off, trying to think of anything else he may have forgotten.
“I meant -” Anakin flailed, struggling around the taste of the words in his mouth. “Did you – am I pregnant, Obi-Wan?”
He had never been more relieved to see his master chuckle dryly in his face.
“No,” Obi-Wan replied automatically, his lips quirked into a thin smile. “You're not a Stewjonian, therefore you're not a viable host for... our kind. Broken down, the eggs are an incredibly potent restorative.”
“My eyebrow grew back.”
“Yes, I saw. You look very handsome.”
Anakin preened, unable to resist as Obi-Wan drew him in, his hand threading through Anakin's soft hair.
“Why am I not... angry?”
“That will wear off in a few days as well. I daresay you'll be feeling back to your old self right around the time your grounding period ends. We can have a good argument then.”
“Ah, good.” Anakin rested his head on Obi-Wan's shoulder, finding a strange serene pleasure in being around the scent of him and the warmth of his body.
An echo of the serenity and bliss of the evening still thrummed through him, his body feeling heavy and lax.
“You're likely still very tired Anakin. Why don't you let me help you to bed?”
“Will you come with me, master?” Anakin murred.
“Of course, dear one.”