"teammates", 48/100
Title: Untitled
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Prompt: 25. Teammates
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Obi-Wan is captured, Anakin finds help from an unlikely source - and makes some surprising discoveries.
Author's notes: Originally written for izzardwizzard for this year's jedi__santa.
Obi-Wan had, Anakin thought, grown exponentially easier to deal with lately. Maybe it was because Anakin had moved into his own quarters after being Knighted. Sharing a living space tended to put both of them on edge - Anakin was Obi-Wan’s polar opposite when it came to cleanliness. Or it could have been because the constant power struggle between the two of them had ceased - though Obi-Wan was still technically his superior, Anakin no longer felt the need to rebel against his authority, as he had during his Padawan days. Whatever the reason, Anakin was glad for it. There was a certain camaraderie they enjoyed out on the field now; life, they agreed, was hard enough as it was without arguing incessantly over the most minor details.
The same amicability carried over to their time spent in battle. Anakin actually stayed with Obi-Wan now, fighting at his back. They were an efficient fighting machine - more often than not, the HoloNet stories were about both of them; before, they had just been about Anakin’s death-defying heroics. Obi-Wan claimed it was because Anakin was maturing and developing common sense. Anakin knew it was because he had developed a newfound desire to protect and work with his former Master, something that had been growing ever since Jabiim. Obi-Wan wasn’t the near-immortal he’d placed on a pedestal during his Padawan days - he was mortal, and every new scar Anakin saw on his body only served to drive that point home more.
Anakin knew that he needed Obi-Wan, even more than he needed Padme. It wasn’t just a question of Obi-Wan’s approval, though he would have killed for it in his younger days. He just…needed Obi-Wan to be there. He’d grown used to the older man’s presence; it provided him with the stability he lacked on his own.
When the surviving clonetrooper from the reconnaissance mission Obi-Wan had been on staggered back into camp with the news that they’d been ambushed by super battle droids, and that Obi-Wan had been captured, Anakin was on a speederbike before the scout had even finished speaking. He couldn’t feel Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force, and that was a dangerous thing. He refused to believe that Obi-Wan was dead; if the droids had kept him alive, then their superiors must have wanted him alive, and if the superiors wanted him alive, then there was a chance that they’d keep him that way. No, odds were good that they just had him in a Force-restricting collar, or possibly drugged him.
He had to believe that much, just for his own sanity.
***
The Separatists, Anakin had discovered, kept their headquarters in an old, crumbling castle, a miraculously still-standing testament to the planet’s former monarchy. Unfortunately for him, they’d reinforced the castle with the latest security systems, and they had droidekas and super battle droids standing guard. No MagnaGuards, though - Anakin was relieved to see that, because it meant that at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Grievous. Of course, in order to discover who was in charge here, he’d have to make it through the outer perimeter first. He hoped it wasn’t Ventress - he’d had enough run-ins with her to last a lifetime. He’d left her for dead every single time, but she kept escaping somehow. It was, in his opinion, very irritating. Anakin was rather used to his opponents staying dead.
Anakin skulked around the outskirts of the castle, crawling on his stomach through the thick mud. He was looking for a sewage tunnel or something - anything - that would allow him access. Unfortunately, he had a sneaking suspicion that things weren’t likely to be quite so easy. In fact, the best plan looked like to just charge on in, lightsaber blazing. Obi-Wan, of course, would have discouraged this plan, but he wasn’t Obi-Wan.
Suddenly, a rock hit Anakin in the back of the head. “Sithspit!” he hissed quietly. He glanced in the direction from which the rock had come, catching just the slightest movement in the corner of his eye. Keeping one eye on the droids, he wriggled towards the pile of rocks and dead tree that he thought the rock-thrower was hiding behind.
Indeed, there was a person huddled behind the rocks, and it was someone Anakin recognized, despite the fact that his protective layer of mud was even thicker than Anakin’s own. “Master Vos?” he asked quietly, slightly surprised. From what he’d heard, Quinlan Vos had gone over to the Dark Side and was on the run from the Council - and, more or less, the entire Order. He had supposedly become one of Dooku’s Dark Acolytes - what he was doing out here was anybody’s guess.
“Are you here to rescue Obi-Wan?” Quinlan pushed his dreadlocks out of his face, smudging his dusky skin with more mud in the process.
Anakin regarded him with suspicion. “I might be. Do you know something?”
One corner of Quin’s lips twitched upwards into a half-smile. “I know that you aren’t going to be able to get past those droids so easily. Their exterior’s been reinforced with cortosis alloy. They want whatever high-ranking Jedi they can get, and they want to keep him there. See, the indigenous people are tired of getting screwed over by the Republic, but they aren’t sure they want to deal with the Separatists just yet. So…from what I can gather, they’re going to sell your Master to the highest bidder.”
“Where’d they get the droids from, then?” Anakin wasn’t quite sure he believed Quin’s story. “The Separatists wouldn’t give them droids to guard Obi-Wan if there was a possibility that he could be given back to the Order.”
Quin snorted derisively. “Have you seen the Republic ransom any Jedi in the course of this war? Their plan of action - and, mind you, the Separatists know this - is to send a suicidal Jedi or two in on a mission to rescue him - in this case, you and me, though you’re hardly likely to get actual marching orders to that effect. Obi-Wan’s going to wind up as Dooku’s little toy - unless he decides to give him to Grievous or Ventress - and this planet’s going to join the CIS before they starve to death from the trade embargo. It’s all about politics, Padawan Skywalker, and you’d do well to learn that fact.”
“Knight.” Anakin shook the half-grown-out mass of curls on his head at Quin. “Knight Skywalker.”
Quin chuckled. “Oh? Congratulations, then. When did that happen?”
“After Praesitlyn.” Anakin didn’t like talking about past battles - it was enough that the dead haunted his dreams every night; he didn’t want them to invade his waking hours, too. “Do you know anything else about the guard around here? Any way we could get in?” He reluctantly accepted the fact that he would have to work with Quin; he didn’t entirely trust him, but he seemed to have invited himself along.
“Not much,” Quin replied, shaking his head. “I got here just before you did - all I know is what I heard from the Separatists before coming. I think they have a Force-user in there, but I couldn’t tell you which one - just someone who’s making it hard for me to sense much of anything.”
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence as the two of them laid in the mud, watching the distant droids patrol the walls. Finally, Anakin spoke up. “What did you mean…Dooku’s little toy?”
Quin frowned. “Dooku has…never been entirely sane, at least from what I’ve heard. Even when he was a Jedi, he took a certain delight in…” he trailed off. “Well, they’re just stories. But Master Tholme said Qui-Gon tended to have a lot of injuries, and he wasn’t very open about how he got them. And there were other things, too…”
Anakin clenched his fists, the motors in his mechnohand whining in protest. “We can’t let Dooku get him.” A haze of red descended over his vision. “If he even touches Master Obi-Wan, I’ll kill him, I swear I will.”
Quin reached over, gripping Anakin’s arm and shaking him out of his blind rage. “It won’t happen. Dooku isn’t even here - he’s on Raxus Prime right now. They’d have to get him offplanet first, and they can’t do that without me knowing about it. Now, we’re going to have to set up a base camp nearby. This isn’t going to be a one-day thing. Do you have field rations?” He waited for Anakin to nod before continuing. “Good, because there isn’t anything out here. We’re going to pitch a tent, then I’ll scout a bit and come back on watch to let you catch some sleep.”
“Why are you scouting?” Anakin frowned, furrowing his brow. “I can scout.”
“To give you a chance to eat something, more or less. I can just eat a ration bar while I’m on watch.” He grinned suddenly, showing startlingly white teeth. “Besides, Obi-Wan would have my hide if I let anything happen to you.”
“And if you don’t let me take some risks, that might wind up not being a factor at all…Master Vos,” Anakin said angrily, tacking Quin’s title on at the end of it.
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that we’re quite to that point yet. And call me Quin.” Quin pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, gesturing towards the north and an outcropping of rocks. “We’ll set up over there. It’s a bit farther away, but we’re less likely to be noticed. Make sure the droids don’t spot us while we’re getting out of their sight.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Anakin, then started crawling through the sludge.
***
Obi-Wan was chained to a stone wall, an uncomfortable-looking collar of an unfamiliar metal alloy around his neck and two lizard-like creatures clinging to perches on either side of him. He was shirtless, with three deep slashes just starting to become infected running across his chest. His eyes were closed, but he was writhing against the wall - whether in pain or in fear, Anakin couldn’t tell. Count Dooku stood a few meters away, surveying Obi-Wan with satisfaction. “Anakin,” the dream-Obi-Wan whispered deliriously, his chapped lips bleeding. “Anakin…”
Anakin awoke suddenly, panting heavily, his bedroll soaked with sweat. His eyes were wide, and blind, unthinking rage battled with gut-wrenching fear for the position of dominant emotion. Someone was crouching next to him, gently stroking his arm, and he instinctively reached for his lightsaber before realizing that it must be Quin.
“What did you dream about?” he asked quietly.
Anakin shook his head stubbornly. “Nothing.”
“All right.” Quin closed his eyes for a moment, clearly concentrating on something, and suddenly pulled away as if he’d been burned. “Force!” he hissed. “Do you have dreams like that often?”
Anakin narrowed his eyes. “How did you know?”
“It’s a Force-talent my people have. We can read imprints off of items - like clothing, for example - and see events that others have experienced through their eyes.”
“That sounds like it has the potential to be dangerous.”
Quin frowned. “It can be.”
Anakin tried to slow his breathing down, thinking of the exercises that Obi-Wan had taught him to make meditation easier, but just being reminded of Obi-Wan sent him back into the frenzy he had been in when he woke up. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, resting his head on his knees, and tried to keep himself from crying.
He felt a pair of arms embrace him gently, if a bit awkwardly, and instinctively relaxed back into them. Quin wasn’t anything like Padme; he was all hard muscles where she was soft, creamy skin, but it still felt strangely comforting. Quin started stroking his hair, and he finally gave in and cried against his chest, sobbing in a way he hadn’t done since his mother died. In a way, losing Obi-Wan would be like losing his mother all over again - it was the one thing he feared most in the world, because Obi-Wan kept him sane and rational, and without Obi-Wan, he was lost. He didn’t know what to do, and if Obi-Wan died, he would never know what to do again.
After some time had passed, Quin wiped away Anakin’s tears with a surprising gentleness, tilting his chin up with a pair of fingers so that he could look into his eyes. “You have prophetic dreams, then.”
Anakin nodded, sniffling a bit. “The last time they came was…right before my mother died. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I got there too late…” He shook his head. “I’m not going to be too late this time, Quin.” His eyes filled with tears again. “I’m not!”
Quin stroked Anakin’s cheek with a fingertip, tracing the path his tears had taken. “I believe you, Anakin. And I’m here to help you. We’ll rescue Obi-Wan, I promise.” The fingertip outlined Anakin’s lips, and he drew back in surprise.
“What-?”
“Shhhh.” Quin looked amused as he placed a finger vertically over Anakin’s lips. “I’m just trying to help you calm down, that’s all.” He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against the tip of his nose. “And I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. You just need to be less tense, and I know one of the best ways for a teenage boy to accomplish that.”
“I’ve- I’ve never done anything with another man before, though.” Heat rose in his groin as he thought about Quin touching him like only Padme had. It was an attractive thought - he’d had the occasional fantasy about Obi-Wan, but discarded them as impossible to pursue. Obi-Wan was so aloof, so…virginal.
He flashed that startling grin again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He removed the finger and captured Anakin’s lips in a light kiss, one that he couldn’t help but respond to. He was only human, after all, and he hadn’t been back on Coruscant for months, and really, his left hand lost its appeal after awhile.
Anakin returned Quin’s embrace as he deepened the kiss hungrily, sliding a hand up his back to tangle it in his long dreadlocks. It was utterly unlike anything he’d experienced before - and unlike he’d thought it would be, though he’d admittedly only fantasized about kissing Obi-Wan - but he found that he liked it.
Quin shifted his hands around to Anakin’s torso, then down to his waist, tugging at the hem of the undertunic he had worn to sleep in. Anakin shivered as Quin caressed his chest with long, calloused fingers, rubbing his nipples with his thumbs. Sex with Padme was always fairly straightforward - he’d figured that he didn’t need to try any of the complicated things that he’d seen on holoporn, but this - Force, this felt incredible, and they hadn’t really gone any farther than kissing yet.
“You’ll have to forgive me, Anakin; I’m normally quite fond of using my mouth on my partner, but, well, you’re a bit…muddy.” Quin smiled warmly, pulling back a few inches as Anakin panted heavily, contemplating what it would feel like to have someone actually use their mouth there. It was a mind-blowing concept; Padme was a bit disturbed by it, and he didn’t want to push her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Besides, he had gathered that it was something that men tended to do to each other, so he had figured that it was probably something he would never get to experience. Even the thought of it was insanely arousing, though.
He bit his lower lip. “But…I mean…you aren’t just going to…stop, are you?” Anakin felt a bit embarrassed, pleading for sex like this, but he didn’t think that Quin was likely to initiate something and leave him to finish it himself.
“No, of course not.” Quin’s other hand found its way down to Anakin’s crotch and rubbed his erection through his pants. “That would be quite impolite of me, and it wouldn’t help you relax at all.” Anakin shuddered at the sensation of the coarse cloth of his underwear rubbing against his painfully aroused cock. “No, I always finish what I start.” He felt a slight shift in the currents of the Force and looked down to see the laces of his trousers undoing themselves. “The Force is a useful thing to have when you discover that you don’t have enough hands,” Quin remarked casually, lifting the waistband up and slipping his hand inside Anakin’s pants.
Having another hand - one so obviously male - touch his penis was profoundly strange, yet insanely arousing. Anakin bucked his hips, thrusting impatiently into Quin’s hand. The calloused skin created a delightful friction, one that nearly drove him mad. He leaned forward and kissed Quin again, insistently this time, trying to get him to speed his hand up. It moved at a maddeningly slow pace, one far slower than Anakin would have taken on his own. Quin swiped his thumb over the head of Anakin’s cock, and he cried out softly against Quin’s lips, surprised by the sudden flare of arousal the action created. He rolled his hips faster; if Quin wouldn’t oblige him, he would just have to take things into his own hands.
Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Anakin felt his muscles tense up, and he came hard, lights bursting behind his eyelids from the intensity of his orgasm. He captured Quin’s lips in a soft kiss, wondering if he was obligated to return the favor - he didn’t really know how sex worked between friends, or between casual acquaintances. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly.
Quin smiled. “It was my pleasure. Now, go back to sleep, Anakin.”
Anakin was so dazed from his orgasm that he didn’t realize that Quin had used more than a hint of Force-suggestion until his head hit the pillow - and by then, he was already half asleep, and in no shape to even sit up, let alone bring someone else to orgasm.
***
While Anakin slept, Quin had discovered that, unfortunately for them, their only hope of getting inside was charging one of the entrances. He had chosen the rear entrance, in hopes that it would be less guarded - in the days when the castle had been inhabited by humans, it had been the kitchen door, and it would have only had one guard then. Now, though, there were at least ten droids, three of them droidekas. There were more at the front of the castle, true, but he had no idea where Obi-Wan was, and how many droids would be patrolling the hallways.
“Remember,” he whispered to Anakin as they watched the droids, “your lightsaber’s going to be useless against the main bodies of the droids. You might have a chance if you go for the limbs, or if you reflect blaster bolts into them, but don’t try to just chop through them like ordinary battle droids.”
Anakin glanced at him. “They have a weak spot, you know. The center of the breastplates - there’s one spot where a lightsaber can penetrate. It’s incredibly hard to find, though. Force, they must’ve paid a fortune for those droids. I didn’t think there were any left.”
“You’ve faced them before? I’ve only ever heard about them.”
“Yeah, they had a factory on Metalorn that produced them.” He grinned cockily. “I blew it up.”
Quin snorted. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, just go for the weak points if you think you can hit them. Otherwise, do what I told you. Hopefully they’ll just have regular droids inside - though we shouldn’t count on luck.”
“Trust in the Force, Quinlan,” Anakin intoned, doing his best imitation of Obi-Wan.
“I’ll trust in the Force when the Force starts trusting me.” He signaled for them to move, and he and Anakin rushed towards the castle in a burst of Force-aided speed. The droids were still faster, though, and created a wedge formation - the shorter droidekas in front, then the cortosis droids. Quin ignited his lightsaber, ignoring Anakin’s gasp at the blood-red blade as he deflected laser blasts. “Focus, Skywalker!” he snarled through gritted teeth, directing the deflected bolts towards the shields of the droidekas. It would take several hits, but the shields would go down eventually, and they would be destroyed easily enough with a lightsaber after that.
Anakin’s lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss, and the blue blade blurred in the air as he joined in the deflection. He would have rather jumped in and scattered the droids with his blade, but he knew that, for once, his tactics wouldn’t work. He concentrated for a moment, keeping his lightsaber blade moving through sheer instinct, and opened himself to the Force, manipulating it just so - and the cortosis droids’ laser cannons jammed in unison. “You might want to duck,” he offered, flinging himself down into the mud just before the cannons exploded, hurling shrapnel everywhere.
Quin cursed in what Anakin assumed was Kiffar. “You could’ve warned me a moment earlier.” He plucked a couple bits of metal from open wounds in his face and tears in his robes, frowning at the blood. Thankfully, the explosions from the high-powered cannons had blown both the cortosis droids and the droidekas into bits, just as Anakin had planned.
Anakin smirked. “Sorry. It worked, though.” He glanced at Quin, just to make sure that none of the wounds were serious, but they all looked like they could be patched up with a bit of bacta. “So, are we going to go inside now?” He extended his senses with the Force, trying to see if there were more droids nearby, but like Quin had said, there was something fogging his senses. A quick survey revealed that there were no more droids near them outside, but Anakin figured that it wouldn’t do them much good if there happened to be a dozen or so waiting to ambush them in the kitchen. He skulked closer, pressing up against the wall next to the door, Quin on the other side. Thankfully, he could at least perceive things that were a few feet away, and the Force on the other side of the wall felt blessedly empty. A quick twist of the knob revealed that it was locked, but lightsabers solved that problem easily enough.
Quin hissed, spotting a security holo set up in the kitchen area. “Skorr!”
Anakin looked at the chamber that held his Master, one that was decidedly different from the one he’d seen in his dream. A man who could only be a Dark Jedi paced restlessly back and forth in front of Obi-Wan, his lightsaber hilt in his hand, but not ignited. “You know him?”
“Tol Skorr. He used to be a Jedi, but now his allegiance lies with Dooku. He and I have…met once or twice.” Anakin could tell that Quin wasn’t revealing all he knew of the man, but he wasn’t about to push him for more information.
“I wish we could tell where they’re holding Obi-Wan.” He frowned. “Otherwise we’ll have to fight our way through the entire place.”
“Not likely. They’re probably in the dungeons - that’s the most obvious place to keep a prisoner, and I doubt that anybody expected us to get past the cortosis droids.”
“Then we’d better hurry,” Anakin observed, “before they found out that we accomplished the unexpected.”
***
As Quin had predicted, the hallways were guarded by simple battle droids, the kind the Jedi had been dealing with since the Battle of Naboo. It was quick enough work to slice them in half; lightsabers cut through the expendable droids like butter. Through luck - or due to the sheer incompetence of their enemies - they managed to find the dungeons without encountering more cortosis droids, or any large groups of droids at all. The doors were large and made of wood, a peculiarity that spoke of just how old the castle was. Quin paused in front of them, saluting Anakin with the hilt of his lightsaber. “This, I’m afraid, is where I leave you, young Skywalker. I’ve more to accomplish, and I have faith in your ability to do the rest of this on your own.” He grinned. “May the Force be with you.” And, just like that, he darted back around the corner, retracing their steps. Anakin was frozen with shock; he hadn’t expected Quin to desert him like this. After a moment, though, he realized that Quin must have had an entirely valid reason for leaving; that didn’t make it hurt any less, though.
Anakin took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Skorr was still pacing in front of Obi-Wan, who was unconscious and chained to the wall. Anakin felt a flash of pain when he looked at his Master, and he silently vowed to personally take revenge for every one of Obi-Wan’s injuries on Skorr.
“So, this is Anakin Skywalker, the famed Chosen One and Hero Without Fear.” Skorr turned to face him, grinning like a rabid dog. “I am honored by your presence.” He bowed mockingly to Anakin. “Somehow, I knew you’d be foolish enough to come rescue your Master - probably because Dooku and Ventress said you would.” He snorted derisively. “You Jedi certainly are an emotional lot, for all you claim to eschew attachments. Alas, your sentiments for Master Kenobi are going to be the downfall of you both.” He ignited his lightsaber, flourishing the blade in a Makashi salute.
Anakin instinctively brought his blade up in a guard - not the Djem So he usually favored, but Obi-Wan’s more cautious Soresu. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to use that particular form, but it seemed suitable. He channeled his energy into blocking Skorr’s attacks; he wasn’t an especially good duelist, not like Dooku, but he was still a fully trained Jedi, and Makashi was one of the forms developed to fight other lightsaber users. Anakin figured he merely had to wear him down enough, then strike once he dropped his guard. After a bit, though, Skorr’s carefully calculated Makashi moves grew more unpredictable and wilder - not slipping into a different form, but a sure sign of his descent into madness, for Anakin saw the mad glint of the Dark Side in his eyes, and a dark aura colored the Force around him. He lashed out at Anakin’s leg, actually grazing it before Anakin managed to block him. He gritted his teeth, continuing the methodical, almost plodding steps of Soresu, though he longed to lash out with Djem So and end this pointless fight. Obi-Wan would have disapproved, though, and it was only that which kept Anakin from taking the easy way out.
He cast his eyes about the room, looking for anything to disable Skorr easily - while he was doing that, Skorr hit his good arm with another glancing blow. Anakin’s anger flared, and he gestured with his free hand, Force-pulling a large stone block to him. As he had planned, his opponent’s head was in between the block and his hand, and the stone met his skull with a sickening crunch. Skorr fell bonelessly to the floor, his lifeless hand dropping his lightsaber. By the time he hit the floor, Anakin was already next to Obi-Wan.
“Master,” he whispered, gently caressing Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Master Obi-Wan, can you hear me?” Though a quick check with the Force revealed Obi-Wan’s vitals were strong, he was still unconscious. Anakin sliced the chains with a quick sweep of his lightsaber, then wrapped Skorr’s cloak around Obi-Wan’s body. His tunic was torn, revealing the cuts that Anakin had seen in his dream, though they weren’t infected yet. Still, though, the remnants of the bloody tunic were a mess, and Anakin hoped that the rags weren’t hiding more injuries. With the aid of the Force, he lifted Obi-Wan gently, carrying him out of the dungeon - and picking up his confiscated lightsaber on the way out - and to the speederbike he’d abandoned the previous day. No droids appeared to challenge them; a quick sweep of the Force revealed that they had, in fact, all been destroyed, presumably by Quin.
Anakin cradled Obi-Wan’s lifeless form as he drove back to camp, checking him over with the Force for further injuries. Thankfully, there were none. The scratches were deep, but they would heal - the same could be said for Anakin’s ‘saber burns. Obi-Wan opened his eyes as they arrived back at the base, looking up at Anakin with bemusement.
“Anakin?” he croaked, sounding surprised.
“Master!” Anakin hugged him surreptitiously, first checking to make sure there were no clonetroopers around.
Obi-Wan winced. “I do wish you wouldn’t do that, Anakin.” He coughed. “What happened?”
Anakin helped his Master off the speederbike; he was tempted to carry him back to their tent, but he doubted Obi-Wan would appreciate that. He certainly leaned heavily on Anakin as they walked, though. “Well, you went out on a reconnaissance mission and got captured - “
“I know that,” Obi-Wan snapped, sounding irritable. “Why did you come after me?” Anakin helped him onto his cot, fetching him a canteen of water, which he accepted gratefully.
“Because I had to,” Anakin said simply, his heart sinking slightly as he rummaged around for a medical kit. This wasn’t how he’d imagined it - he’d thought Obi-Wan would be grateful for being rescued, not…grumpy.
“Because you had to?” Obi-Wan echoed.
Anakin sat down next to him, deciding against explaining his cryptic statement. “Here, take your tunic off. I need to take care of those scratches.”
Obi-Wan obediently pulled the tunic off, wincing as some of the frayed threads that were caught in the wounds were pulled free. “You shouldn’t have risked it, Anakin.”
The cool bactagel made Anakin’s fingertips tingle as he spread it on Obi-Wan’s skin, watching the wounds heal practically before his eyes. Obi-Wan shivered slightly as he applied it, and Anakin couldn’t help but think of doing much more sensual things to Obi-Wan’s chest. He bit his lip, hoping that he was shielding strongly enough to keep Obi-Wan from sensing anything unusual.
Anakin swathed the cuts in bandages, trying to ignore the raging erection he had somehow acquired. “All done,” he said, trying to sound casual as he lightly ran his fingers along Obi-Wan’s sternum.
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly. “What are you doing, Padawan?”
Anakin shook his head. “Not Padawan. Anakin.” He thought of Obi-Wan calling his name out in a moment of ecstasy and flushed lightly - he knew that he hadn’t been shielding sufficiently when Obi-Wan also colored a moment later.
“…oh,” he said, too surprised to say anything else.
He decided to risk it all in one desperate gamble and pulled Obi-Wan against him tightly, catching his lips in a kiss. Amazingly, Obi-Wan responded positively, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s waist.
“I was so worried I’d lose you,” Anakin murmured against his lips. “I can’t lose you.” He sucked Obi-Wan’s lower lip into his mouth, kissing him fervently, afraid of having the older man slip out of his grasp. Before he knew it, he had pushed Obi-Wan down onto the cot, and he was stretched out next to him - instinct said that he should be on top of him, but he didn’t want to aggravate Obi-Wan’s wounds. His hands roamed lightly over Obi-Wan’s chest; he was eager to go farther, but wanted permission first. Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily, trembling under Anakin’s ministrations. His skin was somewhere in between Quin’s and Padme’s - his skin was soft, but Anakin could feel the muscles underneath.
Anakin suddenly longed to taste that skin; though he wasn’t entirely certain what to do to a man, he figured that he could probably follow Quin’s earlier example and be all right. He leaned down, gently swiping his tongue across a nipple, and was rewarded with an aroused-sounding gasp. Obi-Wan tasted a bit salty, presumably from sweat, and there was a hint of the coppery taste of blood - Anakin frowned slightly at that, realizing that he should have let Obi-Wan get clean first. It was too late now, though, and he was just beginning to discover that Obi-Wan made the most interesting sounds when he licked him.
Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s erection pressing against him, and that, in turn, made him more urgent. He pressed kisses against the smooth skin not covered in bandages, gradually working his way down. Surely Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if he did this? After all, he certainly hadn’t protested so far. He tugged the pants down, freeing Obi-Wan’s cock, and nibbled just below his navel before turning his attention elsewhere. There was a small bead of precome on the head; he licked it off, grimacing at the bitter taste. Obi-Wan jerked, grasping at the bedsheets. “Anakin,” he moaned.
He had only ever seen this done in porn before, and he hoped desperately that he would be able to do it right; he was afraid of doing it wrong and never getting a second chance to prove himself to Obi-Wan. He took the head into his mouth, running his tongue around the unfamiliar shape. Another moan told him that he was doing well so far. He sucked gently, then a bit harder, wrapping his hand around the base of the penis and stroking it. Obi-Wan writhed beneath him; Anakin had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t gotten laid in quite some time, either. He bobbed his head slowly, wondering if they were going to have actual sex, or if he was just going to get Obi-Wan off; he realized that he would be perfectly content with either situation, though his own arousal was starting to become almost painful. A quick image that had to have been sent over the training bond they rarely used anymore provided a solution, though; Anakin laid on his side next to Obi-Wan and pulled his own pants down, positioning himself so that his cock was next to Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Like this?” he asked, feeling arousal surge through his veins in anticipation of what was to come next. His answer came in the form of a mouth engulfing his cock - and oh, Force, it was so warm and wet, and it moved, not exactly like a vagina, but with a surprisingly dexterous tongue that somehow knew exactly where to lick. He tried to duplicate it himself, but he was so distracted by what Obi-Wan was doing that it was all he could do to keep his cock in his mouth as he rolled his hips desperately.
Obi-Wan did something with his throat that Anakin doubted he would ever be able to duplicate, and he came quite suddenly, crying out harshly as he thrust into Obi-Wan’s willing mouth. He panted around the other man’s cock for a moment, then resumed his work, bobbing his head eagerly; all of his instincts told him to collapse in a puddle of post-orgasmic bliss, but he wanted to make Obi-Wan come. He wanted Obi-Wan to be his. The slight tensing of muscles was all the warning Anakin had; Obi-Wan moaned loudly, orgasming in Anakin’s mouth. Anakin missed a bit of semen and licked it up, then regretted doing so. As bad as it tasted fresh, it tasted worse if given the chance to cool slightly. He wrinkled his nose, but he swallowed it anyway.
Obi-Wan chuckled breathlessly, watching Anakin. “You’ll get used to the taste over time.” He reached down, stroking Anakin’s hair. “Thank you…for everything.”
Anakin turned himself around again and laid down next to Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms around him. He grinned foolishly. “I’d been wanting to do that for awhile. Er, not rescue you from a castle surrounded by droids created specifically to kill Jedi. The other stuff.” He hugged him possessively. “And I’m glad I got the chance to.” He thought guiltily of Padme for a moment, then banished it from his mind. “I was so scared earlier…Quin was talking about Dooku, and I was worried that he’d get you.”
Obi-Wan rolled over to face Anakin, looking bewildered. “Quin was there?”
“Yeah, he left just before I went into the dungeon to rescue you - I think he took out the rest of the droids.”
“Hm,” Obi-Wan said, but didn’t venture any further opinions.
Anakin snuggled back up to him contentedly. “Not going to lose you,” he murmured again, slowly surrendering to sleep. “Not to anyone.”
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Prompt: 25. Teammates
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Obi-Wan is captured, Anakin finds help from an unlikely source - and makes some surprising discoveries.
Author's notes: Originally written for izzardwizzard for this year's jedi__santa.
Obi-Wan had, Anakin thought, grown exponentially easier to deal with lately. Maybe it was because Anakin had moved into his own quarters after being Knighted. Sharing a living space tended to put both of them on edge - Anakin was Obi-Wan’s polar opposite when it came to cleanliness. Or it could have been because the constant power struggle between the two of them had ceased - though Obi-Wan was still technically his superior, Anakin no longer felt the need to rebel against his authority, as he had during his Padawan days. Whatever the reason, Anakin was glad for it. There was a certain camaraderie they enjoyed out on the field now; life, they agreed, was hard enough as it was without arguing incessantly over the most minor details.
The same amicability carried over to their time spent in battle. Anakin actually stayed with Obi-Wan now, fighting at his back. They were an efficient fighting machine - more often than not, the HoloNet stories were about both of them; before, they had just been about Anakin’s death-defying heroics. Obi-Wan claimed it was because Anakin was maturing and developing common sense. Anakin knew it was because he had developed a newfound desire to protect and work with his former Master, something that had been growing ever since Jabiim. Obi-Wan wasn’t the near-immortal he’d placed on a pedestal during his Padawan days - he was mortal, and every new scar Anakin saw on his body only served to drive that point home more.
Anakin knew that he needed Obi-Wan, even more than he needed Padme. It wasn’t just a question of Obi-Wan’s approval, though he would have killed for it in his younger days. He just…needed Obi-Wan to be there. He’d grown used to the older man’s presence; it provided him with the stability he lacked on his own.
When the surviving clonetrooper from the reconnaissance mission Obi-Wan had been on staggered back into camp with the news that they’d been ambushed by super battle droids, and that Obi-Wan had been captured, Anakin was on a speederbike before the scout had even finished speaking. He couldn’t feel Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force, and that was a dangerous thing. He refused to believe that Obi-Wan was dead; if the droids had kept him alive, then their superiors must have wanted him alive, and if the superiors wanted him alive, then there was a chance that they’d keep him that way. No, odds were good that they just had him in a Force-restricting collar, or possibly drugged him.
He had to believe that much, just for his own sanity.
***
The Separatists, Anakin had discovered, kept their headquarters in an old, crumbling castle, a miraculously still-standing testament to the planet’s former monarchy. Unfortunately for him, they’d reinforced the castle with the latest security systems, and they had droidekas and super battle droids standing guard. No MagnaGuards, though - Anakin was relieved to see that, because it meant that at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Grievous. Of course, in order to discover who was in charge here, he’d have to make it through the outer perimeter first. He hoped it wasn’t Ventress - he’d had enough run-ins with her to last a lifetime. He’d left her for dead every single time, but she kept escaping somehow. It was, in his opinion, very irritating. Anakin was rather used to his opponents staying dead.
Anakin skulked around the outskirts of the castle, crawling on his stomach through the thick mud. He was looking for a sewage tunnel or something - anything - that would allow him access. Unfortunately, he had a sneaking suspicion that things weren’t likely to be quite so easy. In fact, the best plan looked like to just charge on in, lightsaber blazing. Obi-Wan, of course, would have discouraged this plan, but he wasn’t Obi-Wan.
Suddenly, a rock hit Anakin in the back of the head. “Sithspit!” he hissed quietly. He glanced in the direction from which the rock had come, catching just the slightest movement in the corner of his eye. Keeping one eye on the droids, he wriggled towards the pile of rocks and dead tree that he thought the rock-thrower was hiding behind.
Indeed, there was a person huddled behind the rocks, and it was someone Anakin recognized, despite the fact that his protective layer of mud was even thicker than Anakin’s own. “Master Vos?” he asked quietly, slightly surprised. From what he’d heard, Quinlan Vos had gone over to the Dark Side and was on the run from the Council - and, more or less, the entire Order. He had supposedly become one of Dooku’s Dark Acolytes - what he was doing out here was anybody’s guess.
“Are you here to rescue Obi-Wan?” Quinlan pushed his dreadlocks out of his face, smudging his dusky skin with more mud in the process.
Anakin regarded him with suspicion. “I might be. Do you know something?”
One corner of Quin’s lips twitched upwards into a half-smile. “I know that you aren’t going to be able to get past those droids so easily. Their exterior’s been reinforced with cortosis alloy. They want whatever high-ranking Jedi they can get, and they want to keep him there. See, the indigenous people are tired of getting screwed over by the Republic, but they aren’t sure they want to deal with the Separatists just yet. So…from what I can gather, they’re going to sell your Master to the highest bidder.”
“Where’d they get the droids from, then?” Anakin wasn’t quite sure he believed Quin’s story. “The Separatists wouldn’t give them droids to guard Obi-Wan if there was a possibility that he could be given back to the Order.”
Quin snorted derisively. “Have you seen the Republic ransom any Jedi in the course of this war? Their plan of action - and, mind you, the Separatists know this - is to send a suicidal Jedi or two in on a mission to rescue him - in this case, you and me, though you’re hardly likely to get actual marching orders to that effect. Obi-Wan’s going to wind up as Dooku’s little toy - unless he decides to give him to Grievous or Ventress - and this planet’s going to join the CIS before they starve to death from the trade embargo. It’s all about politics, Padawan Skywalker, and you’d do well to learn that fact.”
“Knight.” Anakin shook the half-grown-out mass of curls on his head at Quin. “Knight Skywalker.”
Quin chuckled. “Oh? Congratulations, then. When did that happen?”
“After Praesitlyn.” Anakin didn’t like talking about past battles - it was enough that the dead haunted his dreams every night; he didn’t want them to invade his waking hours, too. “Do you know anything else about the guard around here? Any way we could get in?” He reluctantly accepted the fact that he would have to work with Quin; he didn’t entirely trust him, but he seemed to have invited himself along.
“Not much,” Quin replied, shaking his head. “I got here just before you did - all I know is what I heard from the Separatists before coming. I think they have a Force-user in there, but I couldn’t tell you which one - just someone who’s making it hard for me to sense much of anything.”
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence as the two of them laid in the mud, watching the distant droids patrol the walls. Finally, Anakin spoke up. “What did you mean…Dooku’s little toy?”
Quin frowned. “Dooku has…never been entirely sane, at least from what I’ve heard. Even when he was a Jedi, he took a certain delight in…” he trailed off. “Well, they’re just stories. But Master Tholme said Qui-Gon tended to have a lot of injuries, and he wasn’t very open about how he got them. And there were other things, too…”
Anakin clenched his fists, the motors in his mechnohand whining in protest. “We can’t let Dooku get him.” A haze of red descended over his vision. “If he even touches Master Obi-Wan, I’ll kill him, I swear I will.”
Quin reached over, gripping Anakin’s arm and shaking him out of his blind rage. “It won’t happen. Dooku isn’t even here - he’s on Raxus Prime right now. They’d have to get him offplanet first, and they can’t do that without me knowing about it. Now, we’re going to have to set up a base camp nearby. This isn’t going to be a one-day thing. Do you have field rations?” He waited for Anakin to nod before continuing. “Good, because there isn’t anything out here. We’re going to pitch a tent, then I’ll scout a bit and come back on watch to let you catch some sleep.”
“Why are you scouting?” Anakin frowned, furrowing his brow. “I can scout.”
“To give you a chance to eat something, more or less. I can just eat a ration bar while I’m on watch.” He grinned suddenly, showing startlingly white teeth. “Besides, Obi-Wan would have my hide if I let anything happen to you.”
“And if you don’t let me take some risks, that might wind up not being a factor at all…Master Vos,” Anakin said angrily, tacking Quin’s title on at the end of it.
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that we’re quite to that point yet. And call me Quin.” Quin pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, gesturing towards the north and an outcropping of rocks. “We’ll set up over there. It’s a bit farther away, but we’re less likely to be noticed. Make sure the droids don’t spot us while we’re getting out of their sight.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Anakin, then started crawling through the sludge.
***
Obi-Wan was chained to a stone wall, an uncomfortable-looking collar of an unfamiliar metal alloy around his neck and two lizard-like creatures clinging to perches on either side of him. He was shirtless, with three deep slashes just starting to become infected running across his chest. His eyes were closed, but he was writhing against the wall - whether in pain or in fear, Anakin couldn’t tell. Count Dooku stood a few meters away, surveying Obi-Wan with satisfaction. “Anakin,” the dream-Obi-Wan whispered deliriously, his chapped lips bleeding. “Anakin…”
Anakin awoke suddenly, panting heavily, his bedroll soaked with sweat. His eyes were wide, and blind, unthinking rage battled with gut-wrenching fear for the position of dominant emotion. Someone was crouching next to him, gently stroking his arm, and he instinctively reached for his lightsaber before realizing that it must be Quin.
“What did you dream about?” he asked quietly.
Anakin shook his head stubbornly. “Nothing.”
“All right.” Quin closed his eyes for a moment, clearly concentrating on something, and suddenly pulled away as if he’d been burned. “Force!” he hissed. “Do you have dreams like that often?”
Anakin narrowed his eyes. “How did you know?”
“It’s a Force-talent my people have. We can read imprints off of items - like clothing, for example - and see events that others have experienced through their eyes.”
“That sounds like it has the potential to be dangerous.”
Quin frowned. “It can be.”
Anakin tried to slow his breathing down, thinking of the exercises that Obi-Wan had taught him to make meditation easier, but just being reminded of Obi-Wan sent him back into the frenzy he had been in when he woke up. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, resting his head on his knees, and tried to keep himself from crying.
He felt a pair of arms embrace him gently, if a bit awkwardly, and instinctively relaxed back into them. Quin wasn’t anything like Padme; he was all hard muscles where she was soft, creamy skin, but it still felt strangely comforting. Quin started stroking his hair, and he finally gave in and cried against his chest, sobbing in a way he hadn’t done since his mother died. In a way, losing Obi-Wan would be like losing his mother all over again - it was the one thing he feared most in the world, because Obi-Wan kept him sane and rational, and without Obi-Wan, he was lost. He didn’t know what to do, and if Obi-Wan died, he would never know what to do again.
After some time had passed, Quin wiped away Anakin’s tears with a surprising gentleness, tilting his chin up with a pair of fingers so that he could look into his eyes. “You have prophetic dreams, then.”
Anakin nodded, sniffling a bit. “The last time they came was…right before my mother died. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I got there too late…” He shook his head. “I’m not going to be too late this time, Quin.” His eyes filled with tears again. “I’m not!”
Quin stroked Anakin’s cheek with a fingertip, tracing the path his tears had taken. “I believe you, Anakin. And I’m here to help you. We’ll rescue Obi-Wan, I promise.” The fingertip outlined Anakin’s lips, and he drew back in surprise.
“What-?”
“Shhhh.” Quin looked amused as he placed a finger vertically over Anakin’s lips. “I’m just trying to help you calm down, that’s all.” He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against the tip of his nose. “And I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. You just need to be less tense, and I know one of the best ways for a teenage boy to accomplish that.”
“I’ve- I’ve never done anything with another man before, though.” Heat rose in his groin as he thought about Quin touching him like only Padme had. It was an attractive thought - he’d had the occasional fantasy about Obi-Wan, but discarded them as impossible to pursue. Obi-Wan was so aloof, so…virginal.
He flashed that startling grin again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He removed the finger and captured Anakin’s lips in a light kiss, one that he couldn’t help but respond to. He was only human, after all, and he hadn’t been back on Coruscant for months, and really, his left hand lost its appeal after awhile.
Anakin returned Quin’s embrace as he deepened the kiss hungrily, sliding a hand up his back to tangle it in his long dreadlocks. It was utterly unlike anything he’d experienced before - and unlike he’d thought it would be, though he’d admittedly only fantasized about kissing Obi-Wan - but he found that he liked it.
Quin shifted his hands around to Anakin’s torso, then down to his waist, tugging at the hem of the undertunic he had worn to sleep in. Anakin shivered as Quin caressed his chest with long, calloused fingers, rubbing his nipples with his thumbs. Sex with Padme was always fairly straightforward - he’d figured that he didn’t need to try any of the complicated things that he’d seen on holoporn, but this - Force, this felt incredible, and they hadn’t really gone any farther than kissing yet.
“You’ll have to forgive me, Anakin; I’m normally quite fond of using my mouth on my partner, but, well, you’re a bit…muddy.” Quin smiled warmly, pulling back a few inches as Anakin panted heavily, contemplating what it would feel like to have someone actually use their mouth there. It was a mind-blowing concept; Padme was a bit disturbed by it, and he didn’t want to push her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Besides, he had gathered that it was something that men tended to do to each other, so he had figured that it was probably something he would never get to experience. Even the thought of it was insanely arousing, though.
He bit his lower lip. “But…I mean…you aren’t just going to…stop, are you?” Anakin felt a bit embarrassed, pleading for sex like this, but he didn’t think that Quin was likely to initiate something and leave him to finish it himself.
“No, of course not.” Quin’s other hand found its way down to Anakin’s crotch and rubbed his erection through his pants. “That would be quite impolite of me, and it wouldn’t help you relax at all.” Anakin shuddered at the sensation of the coarse cloth of his underwear rubbing against his painfully aroused cock. “No, I always finish what I start.” He felt a slight shift in the currents of the Force and looked down to see the laces of his trousers undoing themselves. “The Force is a useful thing to have when you discover that you don’t have enough hands,” Quin remarked casually, lifting the waistband up and slipping his hand inside Anakin’s pants.
Having another hand - one so obviously male - touch his penis was profoundly strange, yet insanely arousing. Anakin bucked his hips, thrusting impatiently into Quin’s hand. The calloused skin created a delightful friction, one that nearly drove him mad. He leaned forward and kissed Quin again, insistently this time, trying to get him to speed his hand up. It moved at a maddeningly slow pace, one far slower than Anakin would have taken on his own. Quin swiped his thumb over the head of Anakin’s cock, and he cried out softly against Quin’s lips, surprised by the sudden flare of arousal the action created. He rolled his hips faster; if Quin wouldn’t oblige him, he would just have to take things into his own hands.
Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Anakin felt his muscles tense up, and he came hard, lights bursting behind his eyelids from the intensity of his orgasm. He captured Quin’s lips in a soft kiss, wondering if he was obligated to return the favor - he didn’t really know how sex worked between friends, or between casual acquaintances. “Thank you,” he whispered quietly.
Quin smiled. “It was my pleasure. Now, go back to sleep, Anakin.”
Anakin was so dazed from his orgasm that he didn’t realize that Quin had used more than a hint of Force-suggestion until his head hit the pillow - and by then, he was already half asleep, and in no shape to even sit up, let alone bring someone else to orgasm.
***
While Anakin slept, Quin had discovered that, unfortunately for them, their only hope of getting inside was charging one of the entrances. He had chosen the rear entrance, in hopes that it would be less guarded - in the days when the castle had been inhabited by humans, it had been the kitchen door, and it would have only had one guard then. Now, though, there were at least ten droids, three of them droidekas. There were more at the front of the castle, true, but he had no idea where Obi-Wan was, and how many droids would be patrolling the hallways.
“Remember,” he whispered to Anakin as they watched the droids, “your lightsaber’s going to be useless against the main bodies of the droids. You might have a chance if you go for the limbs, or if you reflect blaster bolts into them, but don’t try to just chop through them like ordinary battle droids.”
Anakin glanced at him. “They have a weak spot, you know. The center of the breastplates - there’s one spot where a lightsaber can penetrate. It’s incredibly hard to find, though. Force, they must’ve paid a fortune for those droids. I didn’t think there were any left.”
“You’ve faced them before? I’ve only ever heard about them.”
“Yeah, they had a factory on Metalorn that produced them.” He grinned cockily. “I blew it up.”
Quin snorted. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, just go for the weak points if you think you can hit them. Otherwise, do what I told you. Hopefully they’ll just have regular droids inside - though we shouldn’t count on luck.”
“Trust in the Force, Quinlan,” Anakin intoned, doing his best imitation of Obi-Wan.
“I’ll trust in the Force when the Force starts trusting me.” He signaled for them to move, and he and Anakin rushed towards the castle in a burst of Force-aided speed. The droids were still faster, though, and created a wedge formation - the shorter droidekas in front, then the cortosis droids. Quin ignited his lightsaber, ignoring Anakin’s gasp at the blood-red blade as he deflected laser blasts. “Focus, Skywalker!” he snarled through gritted teeth, directing the deflected bolts towards the shields of the droidekas. It would take several hits, but the shields would go down eventually, and they would be destroyed easily enough with a lightsaber after that.
Anakin’s lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss, and the blue blade blurred in the air as he joined in the deflection. He would have rather jumped in and scattered the droids with his blade, but he knew that, for once, his tactics wouldn’t work. He concentrated for a moment, keeping his lightsaber blade moving through sheer instinct, and opened himself to the Force, manipulating it just so - and the cortosis droids’ laser cannons jammed in unison. “You might want to duck,” he offered, flinging himself down into the mud just before the cannons exploded, hurling shrapnel everywhere.
Quin cursed in what Anakin assumed was Kiffar. “You could’ve warned me a moment earlier.” He plucked a couple bits of metal from open wounds in his face and tears in his robes, frowning at the blood. Thankfully, the explosions from the high-powered cannons had blown both the cortosis droids and the droidekas into bits, just as Anakin had planned.
Anakin smirked. “Sorry. It worked, though.” He glanced at Quin, just to make sure that none of the wounds were serious, but they all looked like they could be patched up with a bit of bacta. “So, are we going to go inside now?” He extended his senses with the Force, trying to see if there were more droids nearby, but like Quin had said, there was something fogging his senses. A quick survey revealed that there were no more droids near them outside, but Anakin figured that it wouldn’t do them much good if there happened to be a dozen or so waiting to ambush them in the kitchen. He skulked closer, pressing up against the wall next to the door, Quin on the other side. Thankfully, he could at least perceive things that were a few feet away, and the Force on the other side of the wall felt blessedly empty. A quick twist of the knob revealed that it was locked, but lightsabers solved that problem easily enough.
Quin hissed, spotting a security holo set up in the kitchen area. “Skorr!”
Anakin looked at the chamber that held his Master, one that was decidedly different from the one he’d seen in his dream. A man who could only be a Dark Jedi paced restlessly back and forth in front of Obi-Wan, his lightsaber hilt in his hand, but not ignited. “You know him?”
“Tol Skorr. He used to be a Jedi, but now his allegiance lies with Dooku. He and I have…met once or twice.” Anakin could tell that Quin wasn’t revealing all he knew of the man, but he wasn’t about to push him for more information.
“I wish we could tell where they’re holding Obi-Wan.” He frowned. “Otherwise we’ll have to fight our way through the entire place.”
“Not likely. They’re probably in the dungeons - that’s the most obvious place to keep a prisoner, and I doubt that anybody expected us to get past the cortosis droids.”
“Then we’d better hurry,” Anakin observed, “before they found out that we accomplished the unexpected.”
***
As Quin had predicted, the hallways were guarded by simple battle droids, the kind the Jedi had been dealing with since the Battle of Naboo. It was quick enough work to slice them in half; lightsabers cut through the expendable droids like butter. Through luck - or due to the sheer incompetence of their enemies - they managed to find the dungeons without encountering more cortosis droids, or any large groups of droids at all. The doors were large and made of wood, a peculiarity that spoke of just how old the castle was. Quin paused in front of them, saluting Anakin with the hilt of his lightsaber. “This, I’m afraid, is where I leave you, young Skywalker. I’ve more to accomplish, and I have faith in your ability to do the rest of this on your own.” He grinned. “May the Force be with you.” And, just like that, he darted back around the corner, retracing their steps. Anakin was frozen with shock; he hadn’t expected Quin to desert him like this. After a moment, though, he realized that Quin must have had an entirely valid reason for leaving; that didn’t make it hurt any less, though.
Anakin took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Skorr was still pacing in front of Obi-Wan, who was unconscious and chained to the wall. Anakin felt a flash of pain when he looked at his Master, and he silently vowed to personally take revenge for every one of Obi-Wan’s injuries on Skorr.
“So, this is Anakin Skywalker, the famed Chosen One and Hero Without Fear.” Skorr turned to face him, grinning like a rabid dog. “I am honored by your presence.” He bowed mockingly to Anakin. “Somehow, I knew you’d be foolish enough to come rescue your Master - probably because Dooku and Ventress said you would.” He snorted derisively. “You Jedi certainly are an emotional lot, for all you claim to eschew attachments. Alas, your sentiments for Master Kenobi are going to be the downfall of you both.” He ignited his lightsaber, flourishing the blade in a Makashi salute.
Anakin instinctively brought his blade up in a guard - not the Djem So he usually favored, but Obi-Wan’s more cautious Soresu. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to use that particular form, but it seemed suitable. He channeled his energy into blocking Skorr’s attacks; he wasn’t an especially good duelist, not like Dooku, but he was still a fully trained Jedi, and Makashi was one of the forms developed to fight other lightsaber users. Anakin figured he merely had to wear him down enough, then strike once he dropped his guard. After a bit, though, Skorr’s carefully calculated Makashi moves grew more unpredictable and wilder - not slipping into a different form, but a sure sign of his descent into madness, for Anakin saw the mad glint of the Dark Side in his eyes, and a dark aura colored the Force around him. He lashed out at Anakin’s leg, actually grazing it before Anakin managed to block him. He gritted his teeth, continuing the methodical, almost plodding steps of Soresu, though he longed to lash out with Djem So and end this pointless fight. Obi-Wan would have disapproved, though, and it was only that which kept Anakin from taking the easy way out.
He cast his eyes about the room, looking for anything to disable Skorr easily - while he was doing that, Skorr hit his good arm with another glancing blow. Anakin’s anger flared, and he gestured with his free hand, Force-pulling a large stone block to him. As he had planned, his opponent’s head was in between the block and his hand, and the stone met his skull with a sickening crunch. Skorr fell bonelessly to the floor, his lifeless hand dropping his lightsaber. By the time he hit the floor, Anakin was already next to Obi-Wan.
“Master,” he whispered, gently caressing Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Master Obi-Wan, can you hear me?” Though a quick check with the Force revealed Obi-Wan’s vitals were strong, he was still unconscious. Anakin sliced the chains with a quick sweep of his lightsaber, then wrapped Skorr’s cloak around Obi-Wan’s body. His tunic was torn, revealing the cuts that Anakin had seen in his dream, though they weren’t infected yet. Still, though, the remnants of the bloody tunic were a mess, and Anakin hoped that the rags weren’t hiding more injuries. With the aid of the Force, he lifted Obi-Wan gently, carrying him out of the dungeon - and picking up his confiscated lightsaber on the way out - and to the speederbike he’d abandoned the previous day. No droids appeared to challenge them; a quick sweep of the Force revealed that they had, in fact, all been destroyed, presumably by Quin.
Anakin cradled Obi-Wan’s lifeless form as he drove back to camp, checking him over with the Force for further injuries. Thankfully, there were none. The scratches were deep, but they would heal - the same could be said for Anakin’s ‘saber burns. Obi-Wan opened his eyes as they arrived back at the base, looking up at Anakin with bemusement.
“Anakin?” he croaked, sounding surprised.
“Master!” Anakin hugged him surreptitiously, first checking to make sure there were no clonetroopers around.
Obi-Wan winced. “I do wish you wouldn’t do that, Anakin.” He coughed. “What happened?”
Anakin helped his Master off the speederbike; he was tempted to carry him back to their tent, but he doubted Obi-Wan would appreciate that. He certainly leaned heavily on Anakin as they walked, though. “Well, you went out on a reconnaissance mission and got captured - “
“I know that,” Obi-Wan snapped, sounding irritable. “Why did you come after me?” Anakin helped him onto his cot, fetching him a canteen of water, which he accepted gratefully.
“Because I had to,” Anakin said simply, his heart sinking slightly as he rummaged around for a medical kit. This wasn’t how he’d imagined it - he’d thought Obi-Wan would be grateful for being rescued, not…grumpy.
“Because you had to?” Obi-Wan echoed.
Anakin sat down next to him, deciding against explaining his cryptic statement. “Here, take your tunic off. I need to take care of those scratches.”
Obi-Wan obediently pulled the tunic off, wincing as some of the frayed threads that were caught in the wounds were pulled free. “You shouldn’t have risked it, Anakin.”
The cool bactagel made Anakin’s fingertips tingle as he spread it on Obi-Wan’s skin, watching the wounds heal practically before his eyes. Obi-Wan shivered slightly as he applied it, and Anakin couldn’t help but think of doing much more sensual things to Obi-Wan’s chest. He bit his lip, hoping that he was shielding strongly enough to keep Obi-Wan from sensing anything unusual.
Anakin swathed the cuts in bandages, trying to ignore the raging erection he had somehow acquired. “All done,” he said, trying to sound casual as he lightly ran his fingers along Obi-Wan’s sternum.
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly. “What are you doing, Padawan?”
Anakin shook his head. “Not Padawan. Anakin.” He thought of Obi-Wan calling his name out in a moment of ecstasy and flushed lightly - he knew that he hadn’t been shielding sufficiently when Obi-Wan also colored a moment later.
“…oh,” he said, too surprised to say anything else.
He decided to risk it all in one desperate gamble and pulled Obi-Wan against him tightly, catching his lips in a kiss. Amazingly, Obi-Wan responded positively, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s waist.
“I was so worried I’d lose you,” Anakin murmured against his lips. “I can’t lose you.” He sucked Obi-Wan’s lower lip into his mouth, kissing him fervently, afraid of having the older man slip out of his grasp. Before he knew it, he had pushed Obi-Wan down onto the cot, and he was stretched out next to him - instinct said that he should be on top of him, but he didn’t want to aggravate Obi-Wan’s wounds. His hands roamed lightly over Obi-Wan’s chest; he was eager to go farther, but wanted permission first. Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily, trembling under Anakin’s ministrations. His skin was somewhere in between Quin’s and Padme’s - his skin was soft, but Anakin could feel the muscles underneath.
Anakin suddenly longed to taste that skin; though he wasn’t entirely certain what to do to a man, he figured that he could probably follow Quin’s earlier example and be all right. He leaned down, gently swiping his tongue across a nipple, and was rewarded with an aroused-sounding gasp. Obi-Wan tasted a bit salty, presumably from sweat, and there was a hint of the coppery taste of blood - Anakin frowned slightly at that, realizing that he should have let Obi-Wan get clean first. It was too late now, though, and he was just beginning to discover that Obi-Wan made the most interesting sounds when he licked him.
Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s erection pressing against him, and that, in turn, made him more urgent. He pressed kisses against the smooth skin not covered in bandages, gradually working his way down. Surely Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if he did this? After all, he certainly hadn’t protested so far. He tugged the pants down, freeing Obi-Wan’s cock, and nibbled just below his navel before turning his attention elsewhere. There was a small bead of precome on the head; he licked it off, grimacing at the bitter taste. Obi-Wan jerked, grasping at the bedsheets. “Anakin,” he moaned.
He had only ever seen this done in porn before, and he hoped desperately that he would be able to do it right; he was afraid of doing it wrong and never getting a second chance to prove himself to Obi-Wan. He took the head into his mouth, running his tongue around the unfamiliar shape. Another moan told him that he was doing well so far. He sucked gently, then a bit harder, wrapping his hand around the base of the penis and stroking it. Obi-Wan writhed beneath him; Anakin had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t gotten laid in quite some time, either. He bobbed his head slowly, wondering if they were going to have actual sex, or if he was just going to get Obi-Wan off; he realized that he would be perfectly content with either situation, though his own arousal was starting to become almost painful. A quick image that had to have been sent over the training bond they rarely used anymore provided a solution, though; Anakin laid on his side next to Obi-Wan and pulled his own pants down, positioning himself so that his cock was next to Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Like this?” he asked, feeling arousal surge through his veins in anticipation of what was to come next. His answer came in the form of a mouth engulfing his cock - and oh, Force, it was so warm and wet, and it moved, not exactly like a vagina, but with a surprisingly dexterous tongue that somehow knew exactly where to lick. He tried to duplicate it himself, but he was so distracted by what Obi-Wan was doing that it was all he could do to keep his cock in his mouth as he rolled his hips desperately.
Obi-Wan did something with his throat that Anakin doubted he would ever be able to duplicate, and he came quite suddenly, crying out harshly as he thrust into Obi-Wan’s willing mouth. He panted around the other man’s cock for a moment, then resumed his work, bobbing his head eagerly; all of his instincts told him to collapse in a puddle of post-orgasmic bliss, but he wanted to make Obi-Wan come. He wanted Obi-Wan to be his. The slight tensing of muscles was all the warning Anakin had; Obi-Wan moaned loudly, orgasming in Anakin’s mouth. Anakin missed a bit of semen and licked it up, then regretted doing so. As bad as it tasted fresh, it tasted worse if given the chance to cool slightly. He wrinkled his nose, but he swallowed it anyway.
Obi-Wan chuckled breathlessly, watching Anakin. “You’ll get used to the taste over time.” He reached down, stroking Anakin’s hair. “Thank you…for everything.”
Anakin turned himself around again and laid down next to Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms around him. He grinned foolishly. “I’d been wanting to do that for awhile. Er, not rescue you from a castle surrounded by droids created specifically to kill Jedi. The other stuff.” He hugged him possessively. “And I’m glad I got the chance to.” He thought guiltily of Padme for a moment, then banished it from his mind. “I was so scared earlier…Quin was talking about Dooku, and I was worried that he’d get you.”
Obi-Wan rolled over to face Anakin, looking bewildered. “Quin was there?”
“Yeah, he left just before I went into the dungeon to rescue you - I think he took out the rest of the droids.”
“Hm,” Obi-Wan said, but didn’t venture any further opinions.
Anakin snuggled back up to him contentedly. “Not going to lose you,” he murmured again, slowly surrendering to sleep. “Not to anyone.”