Chapter Text
Obi-Wan braced himself against the toilet. His head was spinning; he was freezing, covered in goosebumps, and pale. He reached toward the shelf beside him, grabbed a small towel, and wiped the sweat from his face.
Master Skywalker had been away on a mission for two weeks. Obi-Wan had remained at the Temple, attending to his duties as a Padawan and dedicating his free time to the assignments that gave him the most trouble, striving to improve himself and show his Master how quickly he could overcome his weaknesses.
His best friend, Quinlan Vos, had tried on several occasions to convince him to sneak out of the Temple with other Padawans and explore the lower levels of Coruscant, but Obi-Wan had maintained both his discipline and the promise he had made to Anakin. His Master had been very clear: while he was away, Obi-Wan was not permitted to leave the safety of the Temple. Quinlan understood his position, though he knew the other Padawans saw Obi-Wan as a prude, a goody-two-shoes who tried far too hard. Obi-Wan, however, did not care what anyone thought.
But despite being obedient and a good Padawan, Obi-Wan had woken up that morning to a horrific situation.
At first, he thought he had wet himself because of the warm, damp, uncomfortable sensation between his legs and on the mattress. But horror flooded his stomach when he lifted the neat gray sheets from his body and discovered that he was completely covered in slick. There was blood on the mattress and on the lips of his pussy as well. And his panties were nowhere to be found.
He felt faint.
Somehow, he managed to stumble out of bed and throw up onto the floor of his room, nearly slipping with his pajama pants tangled around his knees.
This is a disaster! A nightmare!
The thought echoed through the mind of the usually tidy young Padawan as he stood surrounded by slick, blood, vomit, and sweat.
Obi-Wan remained seated on the floor for a long time, lethargic, his knees drawn tightly against his chest. He was in shock. What could have happened? Why was there blood on his intimate parts? Why did his body suddenly feel so strange?
Tears slid down his cheeks. It took a long time before he could gather himself enough to stand.
The first thing he did was check the main door of the apartment he shared with Anakin. Everything was in order. The double security code was still active, exactly as his Master had taught him. He checked the windows and every other possible point of entry, but nothing seemed disturbed.
Returning to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed.
Terrified, he stared at the damp stain on the sheets.
Then at his crotch, now hidden beneath his pants.
Then back to the sheets.
Then his crotch again.
Then the sheets.
In biology classes, Obi-Wan had learned a great deal about what it meant to be Stewjoni, a condition made even more complicated by his secondary gender: Omega.
At Anakin's insistence, Obi-Wan had spent countless hours throughout his preadolescent years in private lessons designed to help him fully understand his biology, recognize his body's signals, and, most importantly, learn the precautions and care he would need throughout his life. That was why, at seventeen years old, Obi-Wan was extremely self-aware. Then a thought struck him so suddenly he nearly vomited again.
"Master Skywalker is going to kill me!" he whimpered. His gaze remained fixed on the stain on his bed. Anakin was extremely overprotective of him. Possessive, Quinlan would always correct whenever they argued about Skywalker's refusal to let Obi-Wan spend time with his friends outside the Temple. It wasn't something that truly bothered him, though it could be uncomfortable at times, especially because it had left him with almost no social life whatsoever. Obi-Wan liked to think people avoided him because they were jealous that his Master was the Chosen One, the Hero With No Fear, the greatest Jedi in history. Yet he was also aware that Skywalker—the powerful Alpha—cast an overwhelming shadow, one that erected durasteel walls between Obi-Wan and everyone else.
"Attachment is not the Jedi way," his Master would remind him sternly whenever Obi-Wan asked permission to spend time with his friends. "You have a great deal of work left to do, Padawan. Perhaps once your responsibilities are fulfilled, I may reconsider your leisure time."
Obi-Wan always obeyed Anakin without question. If his Master said no, the young Padawan would not bring up the matter again for quite some time.
Faced with his current crisis, the only person Obi-Wan could think to call was Quinlan. After his Master, there was no one he trusted more. His best friend arrived at the apartment almost immediately. By then, Obi-Wan had already showered, changed clothes, and cleaned up the vomit, though he had deliberately left the stain on the bed for a second opinion.
"Did you fuck someone last night?" Quinlan asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Dumbass!" Obi-Wan shouted, flushing crimson with embarrassment and teetering on the edge of tears. "Were you even listening to me?!"
Quinlan fell silent.
He stared at the stain for a long moment.
Then he looked directly into Obi-Wan's eyes.
Serious.
"Did someone take advantage of you, Obi-Wan?" he asked quietly. "Did someone hurt you?" His voice had turned rough.
Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself. For the first time, Quinlan thought he looked smaller than usual. An Alpha instinct urged him to pull Obi-Wan into his arms, cradle him against his chest, and protect him from everything. But the situation felt fragile. He didn't want to frighten him, so he stayed where he was.
The pale skin of Obi-Wan's face was flushed red. He looked feverish and his crystal-blue eyes were glassy; his lips were swollen and red.
Only then did Quinlan notice the scent hanging in the air.
Honey.
Lilacs.
And a mysterious undertone he couldn't quite identify.
Delicious.
Quinlan immediately shook his head, trying to banish the thought and focused on his friend's distress. "Talk to me," he pleaded.
Obi-Wan kept his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Yesterday, after training, I came back to the apartment like I always do. I spent the evening browsing the Holonet, made myself some tea, and went to bed. I fell asleep and woke up like this..."
His voice broke and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.
"So someone broke in?" Quinlan asked. The words sounded wrong the moment they left his mouth. "I mean your apartment. Someone broke into your apartment."
"It's hard to say for sure," Obi-Wan replied innocently. "Nothing seems out of place. You know how routine-oriented I am. If anything had been different, I would've noticed when I checked everything."
"What about the security cameras?"
"My Master doesn't allow me access to them. He's the only one who knows the password."
Reality crashed over Obi-Wan once more. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands. "Master Skywalker is going to kill me!" he sobbed.
Quinlan immediately knelt beside him and wrapped him in a hug and Obi-Wan melted into the embrace, pressing his face against Quinlan's chest. Quinlan rested his chin lightly atop Obi-Wan's head. Soft auburn hair brushed against his jaw, his lips, his nose.
Honey.
Lilacs.
Vanilla.
But what is that other scent?
"Honestly, Obi-Wan," Quinlan murmured, a chill crawling up the back of his neck, "I seriously doubt you'll be the one receiving Master Skywalker's wrath."
He knew perfectly well that remaining friends with Obi-Wan pushed the limits of Anakin's patience. The Jedi Master had made his disapproval abundantly clear; still, over time, Anakin's hostility had evolved from outright aggression into something that could almost be called tolerance. Quinlan liked to believe that was because Obi-Wan had fallen into depression when Anakin initially forbade their friendship. Now they were allowed to spend time together, provided everything was reported in advance. Even so, Master Skywalker—the Chosen One—remained terrifying.
"When does he get back?" Quinlan asked.
Obi-Wan trembled in his arms.
"Today."
"...Shit."
For a brief moment, Quinlan found himself worried for his own safety, then the realization filled him with shame. It was selfish, but there was no doubt Anakin would smell his scent throughout the apartment.
Worse, on Obi-Wan himself.
Even with the suppressants every Temple resident used, Quinlan knew Anakin would recognize his trace. It had happened before. That thought alone was enough for him to break the embrace. He helped Obi-Wan sit back on the bed before quickly putting some distance between them. Obi-Wan noticed and he only offered Quinlan a wounded, puppy-like look. Quinlan chose not to acknowledge the way his body reacted to it.
I need to leave soon, he thought. "I can't stay much longer, Obi-Wan. You know why."
Obi-Wan lowered his gaze again.
"Master Skywalker will be here soon. He'll know what to do." Quinlan crouched slightly, trying to catch his friend's eye. When Obi-Wan finally looked up, his eyes were red and tearful. Once again, Quinlan felt the overwhelming urge to protect him, to hold him, to shield him from whatever came next.
He forced himself to remain still.
"Are you up to date on your suppressants and contraceptives?"
Obi-Wan's cheeks immediately turned pink.
Adorable.
"Yeah."
"Good." Quinlan stood, patting his knees awkwardly. "Then there's no reason to assume this is going to become an even bigger problem. Still, you should get yourself to the Healing Halls as soon as possible. You need to be examined and report what happened. The security footage outside the apartment could be useful."
Obi-Wan simply nodded.
Quinlan fell silent for a moment before daring to say, "Hey, dummy... please don't blame yourself for this. None of this is your fault. There are bad people out there who prey on people... like you." He immediately realized how awful that sounded. "I-I mean because you're an Omega, and... and you always look really good, and... well..." Quinlan pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like a fool. "I'd better go before I embarrass myself any further. You know you can trust me. Once you've spoken to Master Skywalker and you're sure my head is going to remain attached to my neck, call me, okay?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Quinlan," he whispered, offering him a faint smile.
For a few seconds, Quinlan felt as though he were under a spell. There was something strange about Obi-Wan, something different... something he had never noticed before and that was currently preventing him from speaking coherently or with the sensitivity the situation required. He smelled good. Far too good. Delicious. He looked fragile, innocent, easy...
...virginal...
Quinlan flushed at the inappropriate thought, spun on his heel, and hurried toward the exit.
°°°
"Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..."
It was the third time Obi-Wan had counted the bottles of suppressants. He had already checked his contraceptive injections at least a dozen times. Everything matched. He hadn't missed a single dose. Everything should be fine...
"One, two, three, four, five, six..."
Master Skywalker would be arriving soon. Obi-Wan had already received a message informing him that Anakin had returned to Coruscant.
—
Picking up dinner from Dex's, angel.
Yours,
Anakin.
—
After his compulsive counting, Obi-Wan sat down on the living room sofa and waited, rereading the message over and over while anxiety flooded his thoughts.
He had changed the sheets on his bed, but he had carefully stored the stained ones inside a box that now sat on the coffee table in front of him. He had no idea how to bring up the subject. He didn't want to make his Master angry. He didn't want Anakin to be disgusted. He didn't want him to think Obi-Wan had wanted... sex. The very word twisting through his thoughts made him writhe with embarrassment.
Force, what am I going to do? His leg bounced relentlessly. Up and down. Up and down.
His Master had always been uncompromising when it came to sex. Frequently, Anakin would ask whether anyone had ever tried anything with him, whether someone had attempted to touch him or kiss him. The conversations surrounding Obi-Wan's first kiss were often so intense that he eventually had to voluntarily grant Anakin access to his mind so the Jedi Master could verify for himself that nothing had happened. Obi-Wan knew Anakin did it to protect him, but more importantly, to ensure his Padawan respected the Code and grew into an exceptional Jedi, just like him. The pressure was always immense because Obi-Wan knew he couldn't keep secrets from Anakin. It forced him to constantly be his best self, leaving him exhausted physically and mentally.
Obi-Wan had never even had his first kiss... and now, apparently, he wasn't a virgin anymore.
The thought filled him with grief.
He started crying again.
Obi-Wan didn't understand why his virginity mattered so much to him. Sex wasn't forbidden among Jedi. Attachment was. Biological urges and needs weren't denied, only controlled—which was the purpose of suppressants. Yet any sexual act or even sexual thought felt deeply immoral to him, forbidden, something deserving of punishment. Whenever Obi-Wan failed to restrain himself and touched himself late at night, his meditations would last for hours the following day as he attempted to purge the impurity he had allowed into his body and mind.
A small smile briefly lit his face when he thought about how different he was from Quinlan. They were complete opposites, yet that had never stopped them from becoming best friends as children. Quinlan had always been there, willing to spend time with him despite the absurd restrictions Anakin imposed and despite the fact that most boys their age treated Obi-Wan as though he carried a plague. The fact that Quinlan had come to see him today brought him a measure of comfort. He knew he could trust him, and indeed, Quinlan had not judged him or rejected him. Quite the opposite. He had felt safe with him, comfortable in his arms. His voice had sounded warm and empathetic.
He had noticed his scent, too...
The sound of the front door opening suddenly tore Obi-Wan from his thoughts.
He jumped to his feet.
Terror seized him as he saw Anakin's enormous figure framed in the doorway: dark clothing, heavy boots, his cloak brushing the floor, sharp eyes locked onto Obi-Wan, who instinctively took several steps backward.
"Padawan. Am I interrupting something?" Anakin's deep voice sounded like a warning.
Obi-Wan noticed his nose wrinkle slightly as he scented the air.
"N-no, Master. I was waiting for you..." His voice came out soft and unsteady.
The sound of Anakin's boots crossing the apartment echoed inside Obi-Wan's skull.
"What is it, Obi-Wan?" Anakin inspected the room, still scenting the air. "Is there something you'd like to tell me before I discover it myself?"
"Master..." Obi-Wan collapsed onto the sofa and burst into tears. "Yes, Master! Something happened!"
The harsh expression on Anakin's face vanished instantly, replaced by concern as he crossed the room and knelt beside him. One of his large hands settled on Obi-Wan's knee.
"Talk to me, angel. Tell me everything."
Obi-Wan looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. Anakin seemed like some enormous predator crouched at his feet. He felt protected by him, the same way he always had throughout his life, but that did nothing to lessen the difficulty of putting what had happened into words.
Anakin waited patiently.
Obi-Wan couldn't figure out how to explain any of it. Instead, he shifted his gaze toward the box on the table. The one containing the sheets.
The Jedi Master rose to his feet and approached it.
Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands and remained motionless, like prey that already knew it had lost and that there was nothing left to do.
Anakin removed the sheets and unfolded them, exposing the stain of dried slick and blood. His brow furrowed. His nose twitched slightly as he scented them. Then, without a word, he folded them back into the box and turned toward Obi-Wan.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then Anakin's natural hand settled atop Obi-Wan's head.
Obi-Wan startled violently, a small distressed whimper escaping him.
"Let me in." Anakin's voice was impossible to read.
For the first time, Obi-Wan couldn't discern what his Master was feeling.
"Yes, Master."
Obi-Wan felt Anakin's presence enter his mind. It was always a strange sensation, like a finger sinking into gelatin. He waited patiently. He had nothing to hide.
A moment later, Anakin tilted his chin upward.
Obi-Wan found himself staring into the gentlest expression he had ever seen on his Master's handsome face.
"Everything is alright, angel."
Anakin sat beside him and wrapped a firm arm around his waist, pulling him effortlessly onto his lap. Obi-Wan immediately buried his face against his Master's chest, trembling as tears of relief spilled down his cheeks. Anakin smelled like comfort. Like safety. Like home. Through the Force bond they shared, Anakin flooded him with reassurance, warmth, and affection. To Obi-Wan's embarrassment, he realized he was purring.
"Aren't you angry with me, Master?" he whispered after some time.
"Why would I be, little one?" Anakin replied, rubbing slow circles across his back. "You've done nothing wrong."
Obi-Wan lifted his head, anxiety returning immediately.
"But Master... I don't know what happened. I don't know how to explain any of it. I just know I feel strange and... and the fluids on the sheets... my pajama pants were around my knees when I woke up... and my panties..." Obi-Wan couldn't finish the thought, too embarrassed to say it aloud. "I... I just don't know what to think..."
Anakin interrupted him by pulling him closer.
"Nothing bad has happened, angel. Only confirmation of something I've always known."
Obi-Wan froze.
"I always knew you were special."
Obi-Wan stared blankly, unable to understand.
"Nothing bad has happened," Anakin repeated softly. "Quite the opposite, darling. It's a miracle."
Something in Anakin's voice made the hairs on Obi-Wan's arms stand on end.
There was love there, but there was something else as well.
Something that made him uneasy.
Anakin noticed his reaction and gently stroked his arm.
"Master... I don't understand."
"Come to my room, Padawan," Anakin said. "We're going to have a conversation."
Obi-Wan swallowed hard and allowed Anakin to guide him with a hand resting firmly against the back of his neck.
Anakin led him into the bedroom and gently eased him down onto the bed. Obi-Wan found himself lying on his back among feather pillows and dark sheets saturated with Anakin's scent. As strange as the situation was, he felt unexpectedly relaxed.
Safe.
This is the safest place in the galaxy, he found himself thinking.
Anakin sat beside him. From this angle, Obi-Wan was fairly certain Anakin's silhouette could block out the sun. He looked enormous.
"I was born on Tatooine," Anakin began.
Obi-Wan's ears twitched involuntarily at the deep timbre of his voice. He blushed when he realized he had started purring again. Since stopping seemed impossible, he simply remained still and listened.
"I was a slave. My family suffered under Watto's slavery and the Hutts. For years I wondered why the Force had given me life in a human body at all. Why? For what purpose other than enduring the cruelty of those who believed themselves superior to me?"
Anakin's eyes remained fixed on Obi-Wan's, though Obi-Wan knew he was seeing memories rather than the room around them.
For the first time, Obi-Wan noticed faint traces of gold flickering through the sapphire blue of Anakin's irises, but he was too absorbed in his Master's words to give them much thought.
"My mother used to tell me I was a miracle. A gift. Then I met Master Qui-Gon Jinn and heard the words 'Child of the Force' for the first time. My mother conceived me while still a virgin."
Anakin seemed to return to himself for a moment and offered Obi-Wan a small smile, but it vanished almost immediately. The golden flecks brightened.
"My mother was assaulted and murdered on Tatooine, and I, the so-called Child of the Force, couldn't save her. From that moment onward, I knew the true miracle had never been me. It had been her."
His voice dropped lower.
"So I devoted my life—what already felt like a waste by then—to the Jedi Order and the Republic. I've spent years helping victims who remind me of my family, but there is one thing I can never recover." His hand rose to cup Obi-Wan's cheek. "The comfort of my mother's presence in the Force."
Obi-Wan had stopped purring entirely. He held his breath. Anakin's thumb stroked gently across his skin, and Obi-Wan instinctively leaned into the touch.
"I thought I'd never find that comfort again," Anakin continued. "And for many years, I didn't. People fear me. I went from being the Force's miracle to becoming a monster built for war. At this point, I no longer care whether that's true."
Obi-Wan felt impossibly small. Why was Anakin telling him all this? Anakin Skywalker blazed in the Force like a supernova. Compared to him, Obi-Wan was insignificant. What could someone like him possibly offer someone like Anakin?
"I believed that was simply the way my life would always be." Anakin's fingers moved to Obi-Wan's chin, brushing lightly over the dimple there. "Until I met you, angel."
Obi-Wan's heart lurched into his throat.
"Master, what—"
"Shh. Listen."
Obi-Wan immediately fell silent.
Anakin's fingers trailed lower, settling against the scent gland at his throat. The touch made him shiver.
Their scents saturated the room.
Musk. Smoke. Oil. Wood.
Honey. Lilacs. Vanilla...
And something else.
"I saw you on the day you arrived at the Temple," Anakin said quietly. "You were only a baby. I felt your presence immediately. I knew I had to find you. I went to the crèche, and there you were, crying. The moment I picked you up, you calmed down and fell asleep."
His expression softened.
"From that day forward, I knew I would be your Master. That I would protect you."
Obi-Wan couldn't hold back his tears. Anakin withdrew his hand from Obi-Wan's scent gland and gently brushed away the tears rolling down his cheeks.
"As soon as you were old enough to become a Padawan, I was there. The Council tried to push several other Padawans on me before you because they didn't believe you were the right one for 'the Chosen One,'" he said with a sarcastic edge. "But the Force kept speaking to me, and it was clear that it had to be you. It was the perfect match."
Anakin's hand drifted down to Obi-Wan's collarbone again, tracing the length of the bone. His rough fingertips made Obi-Wan's smooth skin tremble beneath them.
"I followed my instincts and fought for you. At the time, I didn't know why, but I was determined to listen to the Force instead of the Council."
His fingers traveled lower across Obi-Wan's chest, carefully avoiding the sensitive nipples visible beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Obi-Wan couldn't stop a soft sigh.
"I watched you grow, and very early on I realized that you were the miracle I was meant to protect."
Anakin's hand came to rest on Obi-Wan's belly, his broad palm spanning nearly its entire width. Suddenly, an overwhelming warmth radiated from that spot, and Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut as the sensation coursed through his entire body.
"You are the miracle, Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered. "A miracle as rare and precious as my mother."
At those words, Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. He stared at his Master in shock.
"You are the Force's gift to me, angel. My second chance."
"Anak—Master... what are you saying?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
"Just feel it, little one," Anakin whispered gently, his eyes fixed on his Padawan's pale, flat stomach.
Obi-Wan was frozen, his gaze locked on the same spot. Then he felt it.
A tiny pulse of life.
Coming from inside him.
He felt it not only in his stomach, but throughout his entire body.
"No..."
He felt pinned to the bed, incapable of moving a single finger.
"No... that's impossible... Anakin!" he cried desperately.
"This is a miracle, Obi-Wan. The Force has chosen you, just as it chose my mother."
"Anakin! No! That's impossible! Please, this is a mistake!" Obi-Wan shouted. "I was assaulted! i'm sure of that! I don't want to be pregnant!"
Somewhere deep down, he knew Anakin was using the Force to keep him still, but he was too terrified to say it aloud.
"Sshh... I know this is overwhelming. But you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, just like my mother before you, were created to be the virgin bearer of the Force's children. And I am here to protect this miracle. Now sleep."
At the command, Obi-Wan's sobs and protests ceased immediately.
The young Padawan fell into a deep sleep in the bed of Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker.
°°°
Anakin held the bloodstained sheets in his hands, repeatedly bringing them to his nose to inhale deeply, or dragging his tongue across the crimson fabric. The scent and taste drew animalistic growls from deep within his chest.
He looked down at the small body lying beneath him. Obi-Wan slept with his face turned to one side, exposing his fragile neck and scent gland. Anakin felt his cock throb with excitement. He wanted to bite him, to claim him, but that would have to wait. The time would come eventually.
Obi-Wan would beg for it.
Anakin covered his perfect little Padawan with a blanket, making sure he was lying in the most comfortable position possible. Then he rested a hand on Obi-Wan's belly once more. With his free hand, he lifted the stained sheet to his mouth and sucked on the fabric. The taste exploded across his tongue.
He shuddered with excitement.
This was Destiny finally unfolding before his eyes.
This was the purpose of his life: to provide for his perfect Omega and their offspring. Anakin swore that from this day forward, Obi-Wan's womb would never be empty of his pups. Beautiful, Force-sensitive children. The most powerful beings in the galaxy.
He would claim Obi-Wan Kenobi as his property.
His mate.
His rightful possession.
As the Son of the Force, as the Chosen One, Anakin knew this claim was natural. Necessary. An inevitable destiny.
It was the Bond that would bring balance to the Force.
Peace to the galaxy.
°°°
Quinlan Vos walked through the Temple corridors on his way to the final training session of the day. Anakin had been locked in a meeting with the Jedi Council for hours. At one point, Master Mace Windu had stormed out of the chamber in a fury. The secrecy surrounding the matter had fueled gossip throughout the entire Order.
Naturally, Quinlan had told no one what he knew.
Two days had passed since he'd last seen Obi-Wan. He found himself checking his comlink constantly, hoping his friend had reached out, but there had been nothing but silence. Despite his concern, Quinlan knew that with Anakin back, there was very little he could do.
Far too risky.
Even so, he had decided he would try to contact Obi-Wan that night.
°°°
Obi-Wan stretched his long, slender legs against the delicious softness of the sheets beneath him. He felt warm, safe, and incredibly sleepy. With considerable effort, he lifted his arms and rubbed at eyes swollen and sore from crying.
"Master?" he whispered into the darkness of the room, certain Anakin was there. He could feel his powerful presence in the Force.
"Do you feel better, angel?" Anakin asked gently, approaching the bed without sitting down. His silhouette seemed even darker than the shadows around him.
Obi-Wan stretched lazily, letting out small, satisfied sounds.
"Yes. I'm feeling better..."
He sat up in the middle of his nest.
A brief silence followed.
"Master... I was just wondering..." Obi-Wan realized his hands had drifted protectively to his belly. "What if... if... I... I don't know... I feel very scared, Anakin..." Fresh tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. The life within him was undeniable now. He could feel it in every pore of his body. Obi-Wan didn't know what to think. He was afraid to form an opinion, though part of him had secretly hoped Anakin had changed his mind.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Obi-Wan." Anakin's voice carried the firmness of a reprimand, as though Obi-Wan's persistence itself were a mistake. Tears immediately overflowed. "I've taken care of everything. It's all been handled, little one." Anakin's natural hand closed gently around Obi-Wan's jaw. "Do you trust me?" he asked in a low voice.
"With my life, Master. Always. Forever." The answer came out far too quickly. Far too needy. The realization made Obi-Wan blush. What is wrong with me?
"Then prove it," Anakin murmured. "This is good for you, Obi-Wan. It's good for both of us. And eventually, it will be good for the entire galaxy. The Force has entrusted us with something very important. We must listen carefully, darling."
Obi-Wan became aware of the Force surrounding them. It felt like a warm well, shielding him from the cold beyond.
Content.
Protective.
Possessive.
He had never felt anything quite like it before.
"You can feel it too, can't you?" Anakin asked as he leaned closer.
Again, Obi-Wan caught the golden flickers in his eyes. "Yes... it feels good."
Anakin straightened once more, becoming impossibly large again.
"You will not question me about this again, Obi-Wan. I know what must be done. We will do what needs to be done. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
Complete submission.
"I have matters to attend to, angel. I'll return in the morning. Be good while I'm away."
Anakin bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Obi-Wan's head.
Obi-Wan blushed fiercely.
°°°
Obi-Wan retrieved the secret comlink hidden behind one of the bathroom ceiling panels and switched it on.
"Quinlan?" he whispered, almost afraid Anakin might somehow hear him.
"Quin, please answer..."
"Gods, Obi-Wan, finally!" came the familiar voice through the comlink.
"Can you come here?"
"Not if he's there."
"He'll be back in the morning."
"Is it safe for me?"
"He didn't mention your scent."
A doubtful silence followed.
Obi-Wan feared Quinlan would refuse.
"Alright."
°°°
A soft tapping against the bathroom window alerted Obi-Wan that his visitor had arrived. He opened it, and Quinlan Vos climbed inside. The two of them immediately embraced.
"How are you, dummy?"
"Better. I think," Obi-Wan replied with a grimace.
They had a secret arrangement: whenever Anakin grounded Obi-Wan, they could meet in the apartment's bathroom. It was the one place Obi-Wan knew was safe, where the Temple's security cameras were prohibited from recording.
"So?" Quinlan asked as he settled onto the floor beside him, their backs resting against the side of the bathtub. "What's the truth behind all the gossip?"
"Dumbass."
"People have been speculating about all kinds of things. You wouldn't believe half of them." The teasing grin vanished from Quinlan's face when he noticed the troubled expression on his friend's. "What is it?"
Obi-Wan met his eyes.
A jolt shot through Quinlan's body.
"Quin... I'm pregnant."
Tears immediately rolled down Obi-Wan's cheeks. His mouth opened as if to continue, but no sound came out.
Quinlan stared.
His eyes traveled from Obi-Wan's blue eyes to his freckled nose, then down to his pink lips, his neck—his scent gland—his chest,—his tits— and finally his flat belly, hidden beneath light clothing and protective hands.
"Impossible." The word barely escaped his throat.
Obi-Wan shook his head. Carefully, he reached for Quinlan's tense hand. Quinlan instinctively tried to pull away, then stopped himself and allowed the contact. He felt Obi-Wan's long, soft fingers wrap around his wrist and guide his hand toward his stomach.
Quinlan held his breath. He couldn't even blink. Another second and he was sure he'd start drooling if he didn't keep his mouth shut. The moment his palm touched Obi-Wan's stomach, he felt it.
A steady pulse in the Force.
Alive.
Certain.
Real.
The room spun. His ears rang like drums.
Quinlan looked up at Obi-Wan's face. What a beautiful boy.
The thought struck him without warning.
The Force felt strange around him. Different. It was a dynamic he couldn't decipher, something entirely new.
He snapped back to reality when he felt a thin trail of saliva slip down his chin.
Without removing his hand from Obi-Wan's belly, he asked quietly, "Who?... Who's the father, dummy?"
He felt Obi-Wan tremble beneath his touch.
Once again, he resisted the overwhelming urge to pull him into his lap.
"My Master says... says it's a miracle."
Quinlan frowned.
"Anakin told me it was a miracle of the Force. Like his mother conceiving him."
Suddenly, Quinlan's vision tinted red with anger. He withdrew his hand before he did something reckless.
That's absurd!
The word echoed furiously in his head.
"He said the Force did this. That no one touched me that night..."
Quinlan looked at his friend and saw someone drowning in uncertainty. His heart ached for him.
"And what do you think, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan lowered his gaze.
"I'm scared, Quin. I'm too young for this. I don't know if this is what I want my life to be."
That was enough. Quinlan gave in to his instincts and pulled Obi-Wan into his lap. Obi-Wan immediately broke down crying, and Quinlan wrapped both arms around him. The question hadn't even registered with Obi-Wan. That realization made something click in Quinlan's mind. He finally understood just how completely Anakin dominated every aspect of Obi-Wan's life. He had never hated the Chosen One more than he did at that moment.
Quietly, he let Obi-Wan cry. Then his gaze drifted to Obi-Wan's neck. To the exposed scent gland.
Not marked.
Anakin hadn't marked him.
Not yet.
"Hey, Obi-Wan..."
Quinlan gently grasped his shoulders and pulled him back just enough to look him in the eyes.
"I know we've talked about this countless of times before, but right now everything means something different, and I need to know what you think. What you feel."
Obi-Wan listened attentively. His presence in the Force was pure stress.
Quinlan sighed. "Your relationship with Anakin isn't normal, Obi. I know it. The entire Temple knows it. And deep down, you know it too."
Obi-Wan shifted away from him and returned to where he had been sitting before. Quinlan let him go.
"Anakin is obsessively attached to you, Obi-Wan, and you refuse to acknowledge it."
"That's not true," Obi-Wan said stubbornly. His eyes remained fixed on his own hands resting atop his stomach.
"Yes, it is. If I hadn't come tonight, who else would you talk to, huh? Who else is there for you?"
"Attachment—"
"No. Don't do that." Quinlan cut him off. "Being careful not to form attachments and being completely isolated are two very different things. You're isolated."
Obi-Wan cried silently. His head hung low, partially hidden behind beautiful auburn curls that fell to his shoulders.
"I'm your friend. That's why I'll never lie to you," Quinlan said, trying not to sound too harsh. "You already know the answers to the questions that keep you awake at night. You can tell the difference between a fairy tale and reality. You just need to stop lying to yourself."
"You just don't understand." Obi-Wan said. The words came out barely above a whisper.
"Are you in love with Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan?"
Pure horror crossed Obi-Wan's face, as if Quinlan had asked the most absurd question imaginable.
"Don't look at me like that." Quinlan protested.
"W-what does that have to do with any of this? Anakin has taken care of me for as long as I can remember, Quinlan. Of course we're attached. He's like a father to me. That's not a crime."
Quinlan couldn't help snorting. "Oh, come on, Obi-Wan. That is not the kind of relationship you have."
Obi-Wan lowered his eyes again.
Silence.
"Anakin has never allowed you to get close to anyone. Not your superiors. Not your peers. Not anyone capable of forming a bond with you. Dummy, just like you, I don't know what it's like to have a mother or father. But whatever you have with Skywalker... it isn't that."
"You and I are friends."
"Exactly. Which is why it's completely normal that we're having this conversation on the floor of your bathroom."
Obi-Wan fell silent again.
Honey.
Lilacs.
Vanilla.
And suddenly, Quinlan realized what the final scent was.
Of course.
Milk.
Obi-Wan smelled like milk.
"Listen, dummy. I'm not going to pressure you anymore."
Heat pooled low in Quinlan's body, but he was determined to ignore it. After a brief hesitation, he extended his hand and Obi-Wan took it.
Quinlan immediately enclosed it with both of his own. He noticed how small Obi-Wan's hands were compared to his. How obedient those long, slender fingers looked nestled between his own.
He sighed.
"I'll always be here for you. Whatever you need. If you ever want to leave, you can trust me. I'll come for you. I don't care where I am or what my life looks like when that day comes. Obi-Wan, I swear on my honor that I'll help you."
Obi-Wan studied his friend's face.
The sincerity in his presence through the Force was unmistakable.
Slowly, he lifted Quinlan's hands and brushed them against his cheek, then along his jaw. Quinlan jerked away so abruptly that Obi-Wan stared at him in confusion.
"Don't do that," Quinlan scolded. "Don't do that with anyone. You'll transfer my scent, and someone might get the wrong idea."
"I-I know. Sorry." Obi-Wan looked embarrassed. Of course he knew. It had simply been an impulse he hadn't been able to stop. "I'll take a shower."
"Yeah."
A small silence settled between them.
Suddenly, a dreadful feeling washed over Quinlan.
For some reason, this felt like a goodbye.
"Anyway. It's getting late. You should get some rest, Obi. I need to head back."
"Right."
Quinlan gave his shoulder two gentle pats.
"We'll see each other again."
Obi-Wan smiled.