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Fic: - - (Star Wars)

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Title: - -
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Anakin/Obi-Wan
Rating: R
Warnings: dub-con, gratuitous run-on sentences
Summary: Anakin is a spoiled child, Obi-Wan thinks...



Anakin is a spoiled child, Obi-Wan thinks sometimes. Not because things have been given to him, but because when Anakin wants something, he gets it. He is like a predator, becoming fixated, and cannot be swayed until his end is achieved, in spite of whatever laws, traditions, or life-threatening situations might stand in his way.

Lately, Anakin seems to have decided that what he wants is Obi-Wan.

The young master is not prepared for this, not prepared for the advances of a child with more innate power than many members of the council. He is not prepared to deny and turn away his dearest, sometimes only, friend, his little brother.

He says no, of course, and brushes away Anakin’s hand for what he hopes will be the last time, at least for today. But there it is again, fingers warm and firm against the back of his neck. Obi-Wan freezes. He does not want this, but he knows that what little control he might once have had over his apprentice is waning, disintegrating to vapour trails before his very eyes.

Gathering all the strength of will he can manage, Obi-Wan raises his eyes, determined that this distraction should end.

“Anakin, I don’t-.” But Anakin’s hand is over his mouth, pushing him back, forcing him out of his chair. The leather glove is cold and tastes faintly of engine oil; Obi-Wan imagines he can feel the sharp edges of metal joints pressing through the tough seams into his face. The thought is scarcely comforting.

Later, in hours of silent regret settled between barren dunes, Obi-Wan will think that this, this destruction, is his doing. He will tell himself that he should have made Anakin stop, should have made him see....

But now he is pushed to the floor and the heat of Anakin’s body is covering him, crushing him, resurrecting and decimating the will and choice so long ago abandoned on the steps of the Jedi Temple. For now, he will let Anakin have what is left of his self, knowing, as he does so, that it means nothing, being so stolen beneath a grip unyielding.

Anakin is impatient, and, in his haste, he tears Obi-Wan’s tunic. the rip is small, barely noticeable amid the scores of battle-wear, but, even as he half-struggles to push Anakin’s hands away, Obi-Wan notes that he must later see that it is repaired.

The garment has been pulled away, now entangling his hands, and Anakin pins them roughly over Obi-Wan’s head.

“Anakin, please.” Obi-Wan’s voice is not his own, dead sounding and hollow. “Please, Ani, don’t do this.”

Anakin says nothing as he tears away the canvas belt wound about Obi-Wan’s hips; he only smiles and leans forward, pressing his open mouth against Obi-Wan’s throat, teeth scraping and digging into tender skin. His hand shoves downward, and he begins to push and pull without rhythm or gentleness. A cry catches on Obi-Wan’s tongue and tumbles out as a strangled sound of pain. He feels the faint vibration as Anakin laughs against his neck, and his quiet heart breaks.

Without warning, Anakin pulls back and flips him to his stomach. Anakin is powerful, but clumsy, and Obi-Wan bites into his own forearm to stifle the swells of anguish shuddering through him. He knows this must be hurting Anakin, too, and cannot help but be concerned even as the skin breaks beneath his teeth and the bitter taste of blood seeps into his mouth.

Anakin finishes in relatively short order, and the muscles in Obi-Wan’s back clench in agony as he withdraws.

It takes a moment for Obi-Wan to remember how to move and drag himself to his knees. Anakin, who appears hardly even dishevelled, steps forward as though to assist, but Obi-Wan raises a hand to wave him off.

“Master, please, let me help.” There is no irony in his tone, only supplication, which is itself, Obi-Wan thinks, ironic.

Arm still raised in defence, Obi-Wan says simply “You’ve done enough. Now leave me be.”

Anakin frowns, the look of a child puzzling over an injured animal. “Don’t scold, Ben, please. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Try as he might, Obi-Wan cannot sustain the bitterness with which to remonstrate his apprentice. All he feels is a deep weariness and a trace of annoyance at being called ‘Ben’. “Go, Anakin.”

The boy hesitates, then exits with as much speed as he descended. Utterly drained, Obi-Wan collapses back to the hard floor and lies still. He is too tired, now, and too heartbroken to blame himself or anyone else, but he knows that he will. He knows also that none of this will be mentioned again. One hot streak of saline creeps its way around the curve of his cheek, dissipating in the stubble he has been neglecting, and he knows that, for all good and ill an practical purposes, nothing has changed.


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[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2008 01:33 am (UTC), leviticus_lied commented:
And this. That'll do me, for now, but I'll be back with an eye for things I've not read before. Er. Yeah?
[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2008 04:49 am (UTC), shadowenangel replied:
Absolutely! I'm glad you found so much that you liked. Feel free to snatch up anything that grabs your fancy. I can't wait to see (er... hear) what you make of them.

Also, I read an awesome Greed/Ed fic a while back, and I just spent twenty minutes searching for it to give you a link but I CAN'T find it. *sigh* There really should be more of that pairing. I'm sure you'll have fun with 'Acquisition'.
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