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The buzzing in his head is getting worse, and so is the itch beneath his skin. Trembling from the phantom sensations, Anakin stumbles along the Temple corridors, reaching the Force far to detect if anyone is coming near him. It's the dead of night, and the only things roaming the halls should be droids and bots, but he can't take any chances of someone seeing him like this. They’ll stop him in concern, then bring him to the healers and the mortifying outcome will be enough to end him. He just needs to get back to his quarters, collapse in his bed and take care of the problem.
Each step feels like he’s treading with leaden shoes, and the world falls away but also crowds him as the cacophony haunts every movement. It’s only by muscle memory that he stops before the correct room and puts the passcode in, even then getting it wrong once and risking his master from waking up as it beeps red angrily.
As soon as the door slides shut behind him, Anakin promptly starts shedding the numerous layers of his Jedi robes and stumbles towards his room. He's leaving a trail of garments like a shedding insect, and he knows Obi-Wan will reprimand him about it, but he can't muster up the care right now, not when he needs his head to quieten down, he needs…
He screeches to a halt as he passes Obi-Wan's door.
His master is sleeping right now. He knows this with certainty, because the other end of their bond is that specific combination of peace and hazy of sleep. He also knows that Obi-Wan had a hard day yesterday; he had to wake up early and leave without his breakfast tea, participate in endless council meetings and write up reports and suggestions because he was simply the best at it. That amount of work always knocks him into deep sleep, unable to be roused until he gets the required amount of rest.
Anakin could… help.
Tongue peeking out to wet his lips, he opens the door and sees his master's body curled up in the bed. Heat bubbles up in his abdomen and the itch crawls up his neck. It won’t take long, and it would help both him and Obi-Wan. He would do anything for his master, even if Obi-Wan doesn’t know if he wants it yet. His master is always so neglectful of himself, and Anakin truly wants to help him relax. The notion solidifies his resolve, and he carefully steps towards the single bed, heart thudding in his throat.
Obi-Wan is lying on his back, facing straight up and arms folded on top of his chest, still the perfect model even when unconscious. Normally it would raise his hackles, the difference between the man’s natural serenity and his own messy bed, but it just provides him with the perfect opportunity today.
Carefully and slowly, Anakin raises the bottom edge of the thin blanket up until the lower half of Obi-Wan's body is exposed. When there's no movement from his master, he gently undoes the pants as well, trembling fingers unzipping the front seam and pulling away the underwear. The buzzing and the shivering intensifies, almost rings in his head, as he eyes the only thing that could cure him of this insane need. He's tried everything in the past; his fingers, random spoons and tools. discreetly smuggled sex toys and even a willing partner if he could get away.
None of them compares to Obi-Wan's cock. Soft and limp against his thighs, a perfectly average length but slightly thicker than most. The cockhead is shrouded by his foreskin and the sight of it makes his heart skip for unknown reasons. And Anakin knows, delights in the fact he knows that the cock grows much more when hard, and the skin will peel back to expose that pink tip. The information was obtained throughout his padawan years, by chance first then by design every other time. Memories of watching his master masturbating through a crack in the door comes rushing back, and Anakin wonders if he ever gauged the length of it correctly or if he'll be pleasantly surprised soon.
Kneeling by the bedside, he first lays a tentative kiss to the shaft, just in the middle on top of a faint vein, terrified of doing anything more. Seconds tick by and nothing happens. Obi-Wan doesn't jolt awake, no one breaks into their quarters, the world doesn't fall from underneath his body.
But his head quietens and the itch goes away.
It's the first time he's felt peace in weeks, since his last escapade with a one night stand deep in the trenches of the underworld. With just this one brush of his lips, he feels the same calm that an hour of fucking barely instilled. The fact that it’s Obi-Wan’s, his untouchable master’s cock fills him with euphoria.
Feeling a bit braver, Anakin starts to lap, caressing the velvet skin and slicking it up with his spit. It feels insane but also correct, like he's supposed to be doing this. The constantly raging Force flattens out into silence, as if it’s giving him some limited reprieve so he can focus on this moment with no distraction.
The cock jumps on his tongue, and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a drop of pre-cum leak out and land right on the mattress, disappearing into the fabric. It takes all he has not to groan out loud, to shove his way on top of Obi-Wan, wake him up and demand more, to squeeze out more. No, he has to restrain himself for this. A next time might be too far away for his non-existent patience, a next time might not exist at all.
Carefully, Anakin repositions himself so that he’s no longer kneeling on the floor by the side of the bed, but wriggled in between Obi-Wan’s spread thighs, on the actual mattress, right on top of the spot where the pearly pre-cum soaked. He looms over the older man, barely casting a shadow as the curtains are closed and barely any light gets in.
It reminds him of his earlier years, when he just arrived at the Temple and needed time to adjust. It was so terrifying sleeping alone in the cold and sterile rooms, so different from his house back in Tatooine, that he sneaked into Obi-Wan’s room asking for comfort. He knows now, that Obi-Wan was hurt and needed time alone, but still gave his side to his crying padawan. Anakin knows it’s because Obi-Wan loves him. Loves him enough to favour Anakin’s comfort and needs before his own, and right now isn’t any different. Anakin needs Obi-Wan, so even if he wakes up now, or doesn’t wake up at all, his master will just sigh and let him take what he needs.
Emboldened, Anakin first makes sure his flesh hand is warm then uses it to cover Obi-Wan’s cock, to tilt the shaft up and watch the pre-cum drip downwards. The view is tantalising, his mouth fills with spit as he wonders what it might taste like.
Breathing heavily, he lowers himself and places another kiss, this time on the head, right on the slit that’s dripping with white. The flavour bursts on his tongue and Force , Anakin can’t get enough of it. The salty-sweet tang draws him in and before he knows it, his hand is pulling down on the extra skin to expose the tip so he can get his mouth around it, to stop any more of it from escaping.
He strokes it with his tongue, lathering every inch inside his mouth and feels it grow stiffer with each lick. The foreskin starts to peel back by itself and the head reveals itself in its entirety. For a moment, he thinks about sucking harshly, risking waking Obi-Wan up just so he can try to get every last drop of cum out. Enough to fill his mouth and stomach, to remind him that he actually did this when morning inevitably comes.
To his delight, Anakin realises that Obi-Wan is whimpering in his sleep, thrusting his hips ever so slightly towards Anakin's warm and wet mouth. Desperate to please him, he minds his teeth and starts to sink down more, slowly swallowing more and more of the seemingly endless dick until it nudges against the back of his throat. His gag reflexes are long gone, trained out of him everyday since he realised he needed things in his mouth. The pencil ends to candies to his own fingers to toys then to someone's, anyone's appendages, whether it be humanoid cock or tentacles. It was all leading up to this moment, so that he could have the best possible experience in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity without some unwanted reflex kicking in and ruining it.
And he'll need it, since he's only halfway down the glorious cock. It's a dark red now, the faint veins all risen up and forming ridges to follow with his tongue, down all the way to the base and his balls. He knows it's impossible, but he imagines one day that he'll be able to fit everything; Obi-Wan's fully erect cock digging all the way into his stomach and his full balls resting inside his mouth, massaged and fondled by his tongue. It might take years or decades of vigilance and stolen opportunities, but Anakin truly believes that he can do it.
Switching his position to let his throat open up, Anakin sinks further down his cock, until he reaches the base and can't go further, until he can feel the cockhead pushing way past his gag reflex and nudging at that small block in his throat. He would be gasping for breath at the amount of effort it took, if he could gasp at all.
Obi-Wan's cock is so thick , so hot . Having it in his mouth is everything he ever dreamed of and more. Even when only half-hard, it feels like it's pushing on the sides of his mouth, demanding for more space. To go any further than this would require him to unhinge his jaw, and Anakin deliriously thinks that it would be wonderful if he could. His mouth would be permanently open, with or without his will, tongue lolling out and unable to do anything as Obi-Wan yanks him by the hair to stuff him full with that thick cock… Press down deeply and watch as he flails and struggles, spitting up the entire time as he loses oxygen and becomes delirious…
Drool pools in his mouth and leaks out the seams of his lips as he fantasises about how Obi-Wan would punish him if he ever wanted to. He knows his perfect master never would, but even just dreaming about it is enough.
More delusional ideas fill his head of Obi-Wan ravaging his willing body in all manners, and time flows by as he’s stuck in his thoughts. As his mind wanders, Anakin's tongue rubs a soothing circular motion on the underside of Obi-Wan's cock, teeth lightly grazing the base and spit dripping down his balls, completely soaking it. A giggle escapes him, rumbling throughout his throat and vibrating the cock trapped inside, as he imagines what kind of lecture Obi-Wan might give him for the mess he’s making in addition to the discarded clothes in the shared area. He truly thinks he might be going insane.
The cock in his mouth grows a bit, probably due to the laughter, and it pushes further down into Anakin's throat. The head is stuck in an uncomfortably weird spot now, like it’s unnaturally blocking his airway more than a cock should be, speaking from experience. It feels like he's going to cough to dislodge it, which might wake Obi-Wan up and ruin the night. Desperate to stop that from happening, he tries to pull out just enough to readjust the position and keep going.
Suddenly, one of Obi-Wan's legs lifts up and hooks around Anakin's neck, forcing his head down even deeper, and even turns to one side so that Anakin is trapped between his master’s thighs. Satisfied with the new position, Obi-Wan falls deep into slumber again, not knowing that he just pushed his cockhead through that bump in Anakin's throat, locking it the furthest it can feasibly go.
Anakin, on the other hand, collapses entirely like a puppet with his strings cut. His nose is shoved into Obi-Wan's meticulously trimmed bush, breathing his musk that makes his sight spin. The rich spicy scent is so welcoming and familiar, reminiscent of times long ago when he was a child and Obi-Wan would hug him. He would have imagined it being the same now, if it wasn’t for the cock that feels like it’s stuck in his chest , right next to his thudding heart and just shy of impaling into his stomach. His tongue grows lax as thighs squeeze around his face and Obi-Wan wiggles his hips impossibly closer, as if he’s attempting to knowingly suffocate Anakin and snuff the life out of his body.
And Anakin would let him, he realises with clarity. He moans as he realises he would be fine with Obi-Wan doing anything to him, including accidentally choking him to his death. As long as he gets to go with this perfect cock inside him, Anakin thinks that it’s a better fate than any other death in his future.
The lack of oxygen pulls at his consciousness, dimming the edges of his vision into fuzzy static, but he doesn't fight back. Doesn't even try to feign resistance. His hands are limp on the mattress, fingers barely twitching even though he wants to speed it up, grab Obi-Wan's ass and pull him impossibly closer. It's a shame he won't be able to go filled with Obi-Wan's cum, the tacky fluid filling his mouth for his tongue to play with and slosh around, to coat his throat all the way down and fill his stomach full. Anakin knows his master can, he's watched the secret holo-recording of his master's lengthy orgasm, the amount of tantalising cum soaking the towel underneath. He even tried to offer doing the laundry for the first time in his life to get his hands on it, but Obi-Wan politely refused and he didn't have any other way of getting it. He’ll never get a chance again now, he despairs as the static nearly covers his entire vision and he can feel himself slipping away.
But as if he's heard Anakin's wishes, the thighs around his head tightens until it feels like it's crushing his head and Obi-Wan lets out a loud moan, still lost in the throes of sleep but seeking pleasure out nonetheless. Hot liquid spurts down Anakin’s throat as the thighs tremble and shake, jostling his head violently. Distantly, Anakin bemoans how he can’t taste the cum as it flows down, completely bypassing his lax tongue. It was the only thing he wanted for years, and now it’s being wasted. He hopes some of it will back up and fill his mouth, leaving him with just a bit of what it tastes like; thicker and richer than the small amount of pre-cum he got to have, so addictive that he might not be able to go long without it.
The flow of it peters out after seconds, minutes, hours, until Anakin feels full and bloated. He actually feels sick, like he’s going to throw up, and the urge to live finally kicks in when Obi-Wan takes off the leg around his head, retuning back to his customary pin-straight position with a light snore.
Gasping for breath, Anakin rips himself off Obi-wan’s cock, now spent and flagging. The violent pull splatters droplets of cum and Anakin’s own throat slime in a frothy mess all over the older man’s thighs, soaking the fine leg hair and bush all in one. Trying to heave quietly, Anakin covers his mouth and takes the opportunity to dig inside his mouth and play with the tacky fluid, spreading it all over and rubbing it into his tongue. It should make him feel ashamed, how disgusting he’s being by doing something so messed up, but the taste quietens all thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy, sitting between Obi-Wan’s spread thighs, having choked on his cock and cum just a moment earlier, and now rubbing it into every crevice in his mouth. This truly feels like paradise.
Breathing calming down but still panting, Anakin looks back down at the mess he’s made. There are bubbles everywhere and it’s close to turning flaky, which will make it harder to clean up and he’ll be in serious trouble then.
Lowering himself again, he starts licking at the every piece of Obi-Wan’s flesh he can reach; his tummy, his thighs, his cock and his balls. He didn’t have the luxury to appreciate it before, too preoccupied with getting his mouth on that dick, but every part feels different and that just makes him love it even more, especially Obi-Wan’s soft white thighs. But not more than his cock, which he spends the most time licking meticulously, cleaning every inch of it up.
It’s a slow, laborious process but by the end Anakin is pretty sure he got everything. He uses the edge of his shirt to dab at the spit-wet areas, because that would definitely be noticeably uncomfortable when it dries, and Anakin doesn’t want to get caught now that he’s done with everything. The underwear and pants return as well, along with the blanket.
Only when satisfied with everything does Anakin sneak out, but not before placing a gentle, sweet kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheeks in thanks. The gift he’s given him sit comfortable deep inside him, warming him from inside out just from the knowledge that it happened.
Anakin collapses onto his own bed, smiling widely and belly full, remembering every sensation that he experienced. As sleep finally overtakes him, he wonders if next time, he’ll be able to wake Obi-Wan in the middle of it and hear his master moan his name out loud, begging for sweet release. His head quietens and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.