pronker

Part Forty-Eight

"Reps! Reps! Reps Reps Reps!"

The impromptu party turned out to be heartwarming and jolly.

Qikal's face creased in a few smiles and even Strenghis shook a leg in a vigorous, energizing everyone-hopping-in-a-circle dance that evolved into pairings of many kinds when the tunes turned slow. A quartet of males hummed and grunted songs in lieu of any instruments except drums. One enterprising sort filled a row of tumblers with varying levels of water and tapped out harmonies. At various points during the evening, Anakin and Obi-Wan danced with each other, with a whooping, revitalized Kuki, and finally with Qikal in a triple partnership, the Leader swaying to the beat while Obi-Wan and Anakin jigged around him. After one hour of the crowd's indulgence in fizzy juices, the downstairs 'fresher was in constant use. "Be back soon," Obi-Wan mouthed to Anakin from across their table during a break in the dancing. He waggled their room key and motioned with his eyes upstairs.

Anakin nodded as Obi-Wan left, the Master sticking his fingers in the communal nutrient paste bowl, the only food available. Obi-Wan licked off the purple blob as he went upstairs. "Mr. President, may Master and I borrow your shuttle to return home? It will save us some time and I would like to visit my sick friend."

Strenghis peered over Kuki's shoulder so that he could see Anakin better. She had wound up in his lap somehow. "I don't see a problem. Your teaching teams can return it."

"We'll leave when Master says, probably tomorrow morning. Eh, here he comes now." Obi-Wan's Force-presence frizzled with a something that Anakin recognized straight away. He continued, "Master, when are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. We'll comm Coruscant from onboard ship so things will be in motion as soon as possible. Meanwhile, if the Separatists return or threaten in any way, Anakin will disconnect and reconfigure the shuttle's homing beacon to act as your emergency signal. Can do?" Obi-Wan turned to Anakin and winked when Anakin indicated affirmation. "Then we'll leave the beacon with you, sir. And now" --- Obi-Wan rose to his feet --- "we'll leave your party to stroll for a bit before retiring. We'll see you before we depart. Come, Padawan. Good night, sir. Kuki." Obi-Wan offered a warm, lingering smile at Kuki. He nodded once. Her delighted answering smile gleamed whitely. Obi-Wan took Anakin's hand and left the inn.

"Alliance Day, Master. Their first. And you did it."

"We did it together, Anakin."

Would Obi-Wan ask him to say the Respect-for-Master's-Authority ever again? Anakin didn't think so. Perhaps he would volunteer it. The something grew stronger as they walked along slowly. A cool-but-not-unpleasant mist rolled in from Gitchy, not enough to chill them, even without their layers of tunics. Anakin gave in to impulse and ran his hand against the grain of Obi-Wan's hair.

Reasons to have sex with Master, now and in the future: just because he was there, because he needed comfort, because Anakin needed comfort, because Padmé was out of town, because Padmé was in town but unavailable, because Master looks incredible tonight without his long hair, his bare corded neck begging to be bitten, his strong hands waiting to tremble in release ... just because. Anakin ruminated upon his new sandals as a cooling off technique. They fit perfectly, as the borrowed Jedi boots had not. He was trying to make something of this when their stroll approached the deserted docks with the naynabo-tree gaming area. Their footsteps made no sound on the cobblestones. They paused by Grunbi's old seat, looking out through the hanging leaves on their whiplike branches at mutable Gitchy. The small yellow blossoms shone silver in the pale moonslight. Obi-Wan bent Anakin to him in a searching kiss.

Obi-Wan gave up being strong, strong, strong. His control would be imperfect if he couldn't surrender it to his own demand. And he demanded it tonight, by Gitchy's misty shores. The mist didn't cool like him like he thought it should; he felt heat building in his groin and in his mind. His fingers especially seemed hot and he let them wander from Anakin's neck to his hands, turning Anakin to face away from him as he seated himself on the sturdiest-appearing backless seat attached to the sturdiest-appearing naynabo root. The condensation-covered gaming table in front of Anakin girdled the main trunk of the stately tree.

I guess that I don't need to worry anymore about how to get up to something with Master Obi-Wan, Anakin thought as Obi-Wan drew him onto his lap in a wide straddle. "No more mold?"

"No. No more sunburn?"

"No. No more intestinal upse--"

"NO. No more second thoughts?"

"No." Quietly. "That means I can't think of a single reason why we shouldn't do this." Obi-Wan drew both hands up Anakin's thighs, starting on kneecaps and drawing inwards to trace sartorial muscles, landing with a feather's weight on Anakin's crotch. After a moment, he pressed harder there, but felt no response. He abjured using the Force this time as he folded back the top layer of the lavalava just enough to slide both hands inside, forming a nest of interlaced fingers to cradle Anakin's length. He bounced it, he tickled it, he compressed it until slowly it reacted the way that he wanted it to. Anakin sighed.

"Like that?"

"Like that." Anakin couldn't reach backwards to initiate a kiss this way, but decided to allow Obi-Wan to lead. They could trade off in the future, after all. He closed his eyes, immersing himself in the Force. Gitchy hissed as usual, and was the last thing he consciously heard. In the Force, the river was a velvet black cloak with little sparkles of starlight glimmering on it as decoration. There was no hint of aquatic life below, none above in the form of skittering flitterbugs dipping into it for a cautious drink or pursuing even smaller insects, themselves pursued by arching fish. Anakin had not felt this released from sensing life when planetbound, ever. Gitchy would swallow him if he fell into it when it was like this. There would be no yellow-eyed fish to guide him to the surface. It would take a while to get used to this absence of life; the Force was supposed to soothe him. It always had before in these circumstances, when he had accessed it to ensure privacy before rendezvousing with Padmé in the charming garden maze outside 500 Republica. The one time he had decided to let Artoo stay on guard outside their secluded nook, Artoo's swiveling dome had unnerved him; it seemed too much like a motion-tracking surveillance holorecorder. He had deactivated Artoo with a snap of his fingers without moving from his sprawl on their blanket, cast about the garden himself for observers, then continued their tryst. The recollection of outdoor dallying piqued his libido as he emerged from the Force quickly this time, feeling slightly unsettled. It took the memory of his wife's preferences to redirect his thoughts to his present activity.

Remembering Padmé's squealed pleasure inspired Anakin to consider taking Obi-Wan inside him in the way that Padmé did his own self. It would be but a small variation on a theme, after all; he got harder at the very thought. He moved rhythmically now, rubbing his back side to side against Obi-Wan's chest, feeling his Master's stubble of hair and beard rasp against his back. For his plans to continue, he would need an emollient ... the pot of sunburn cream would do, but it lay on the counter by the 'fresher sink. They could find a pharmacy ... not open at this hour. They could sneak into the inn's kitchen and steal some shortening ... maybe. He could change his plans ... certainly not. Something was poking his back now, not the aroused firmness he expected to feel, but a manufactured, unnatural round shape, something other than his lightsaber. "Obi-Wan, did you bring something?" He was getting to know this mutated Obi-Wan more than he thought possible. Obi-Wan didn't say anything, but Anakin felt him nod 'yes' against his spine as he stepped up the pace of rubbing. Anakin smiled a slow smile. Master, you're a fast learner.

Obi-Wan loosened Anakin's and his own lavalava enough for ease of access. He didn't want to disrobe completely. Some late night intrusion could occur --- well, it's possible! --- and he doubted whether Anakin or himself could rewrap the thing quickly. He'd had enough embarrassment on this mission to last a lifetime. He kept his lavalava skirting his thighs, but pulled far apart in a vee with the apex at his abated excitement. He rucked up Anakin's from the back to bare his ass completely, rolling the folds of material to hang down inside his thighs, framing his erection. Obi-Wan couldn't see it, but he could feel it. It was enough.

Anakin glanced downwards at Obi-Wan's hands, warm and strong, calloused to a titillating roughness. He walked his fingers down Obi-Wan's forearms to end on the backs of the moving fingers that kept his heart thumping and sighs coming. For me. He's put aside years of training in denial for me. Even if I didn't love him back, I would do this for him, if he wanted it. Obi-Wan gripped Anakin's cock firmly at its base, lightening the contact as he climbed its considerable height. "Oh, yeah. Ohhhhhh, yeahhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh, ye---eep."

Too enthusiastic, Obi-Wan. We want another method this time. Obi-Wan disengaged and pulled the pot of sunburn cream out of the carrying fold in the front of his waistband. With increased arousal came increased sensitivity --- he swore he could feel every etching, every ridge on his lightsaber snugged against his back. He placed it on the gaming table in front of him, finding an attitude so that it wouldn't roll. He felt Anakin's lightsaber pressed against the soft skin of his midriff.

"All right to take it out?" It was protocol to ask whenever possible before touching another's lightsaber. Obi-Wan loved protocol.

"Yuhhhh ... " It was all Anakin could manage of the Respect-for-Master's-Authority, short version.

Obi-Wan took that for a 'yes.' He withdrew Anakin's lightsaber, running its tip up Anakin's backbone teasingly before placing it crosswise atop his own. There, that would ensure it staying put.

The river proceeded.

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Part Forty-Nine

Obi-Wan slicked up Anakin fore and aft, neither knowing nor caring to know how this evening would play out. He did the same thing to himself. The silver blossoms brushed his face as he leaned forward to set the pot of cream on the table with his left hand and with the reverse movement wrapped the arm around Anakin's waist. He flattened his right forearm against the small of Anakin's back, bending him forward gently to position him. When Obi-Wan made contact with Anakin's opening, Anakin moaned. Little jogging movements eased Obi-Wan inside.

Anakin gripped the gaming table's edges to brace his weight as he guided himself downward to control the slow entry. It burned. He knew of no healing techniques to make it not. He puffed with his eyes closed, grunting when Obi-Wan was fully seated. It still burned. So this is it.

So this is it. Obi-Wan flinched along with Anakin. He opened his side of their bond fully --- still shielding, darling, even now? --- and slid a Master's trick of muscle control used to loosen spasming diaphragms during coughing or sneezing fits when silent surveillance was necessary. Now was not the time to fret about the shields. He already knew certainly the worst of Anakin's secrets and had given the hurt of his Padawan's closed-mouthed attitude to the Force. The relaxing trick helped, he knew, because Anakin began to bounce.

This is as good as sex with Padmé and I don't have to worry about hurting her delicate bones. I can go flat out now. After ten minutes of up-and-down vigor, Anakin squirmed in a circle, mouth open, panting. Every time that certain spot inside received a rub, he groaned deeply. He had always had sensual undertones to his nature. How anyone could have maintained platonic feelings for Obi-Wan after the Festival, after they had seen him backlit by dual moons on Kuki's front porch was beyond his grasp. He'd not need soul Healers for self-discovery about something as true as this. Before the blood drained from his forebrain completely, a mirage shimmered: the street around the Coruscant corner sporting kiosks with hawkers selling multitudes of wares, all crying for his dataries. He saw himself reaching into his utility belt and hauling out two coins. He took a coin in each hand and flipped it with his thumbs. The coins arced high into the air, coming to rest at a delighted cobbler's stand. The cobbler resembled Dormin's mother as she drew back withered lips in a smile over stumps of teeth and crowed, "Here! For you, dearie!" as she dangled two pairs of footwear at him, one pair white Jedi standard-issue boots, the other glossy red pumps with stiletto heels. Anakin thanked the vendor and tucked both pairs under his arms.

Shoes? I need to purchase new shoes for someone? Who? Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it. If this was part of their period of adjustment, he didn't know if he could take being adjusted. He loved Anakin as much as before, and for all the same reasons. What they were doing now was beyond reason. Their actions extended into the dream-purpose of Anakin's dream, he supposed, as he licked across Anakin's back to end in a probe at his armpit. Obi-Wan tasted the sweat there and flattened his tongue to gather what he could. When they were finished, they would return to the Force's realm of study renewed. But they weren't finished yet, and Obi-Wan was in no hurry to be. He reached around to Anakin's groin and firmed a grip on what he couldn't see. He partially rose from the seat, losing his rhythm a moment as half Anakin's weight was upon him despite Anakin's bracing arms. It was a dear weight, though; he had saved his Padawan's life in Gitchy. Of course, Anakin had saved his, as well.

"C-c-can't breathe," Anakin gasped as Obi-Wan mashed his torso just below his ribs. Obi-Wan registered that Anakin had spoken, that was all. The now-familiar something was building now, a tidal wave of feeling that made him cry out as he moved his right hand away from its prize --- don't squeeze now you'll hurt him or stop everything for him when you come soon soon almost ready --- and raised the activity a notch by snaking the freed hand underneath Anakin's thigh from the side, lifting the limb for deeper penetration. Obi-Wan shuddered helplessly and shoved as if he could push Anakin all the way back to Upper-Cremba-on-Gitchy, where this new phase in their Master/Padawan relationship had begun. He climaxed as sparkles caromed behind his eyelids and his whimpers became a moan.

Anakin heaved a breath as his Master's warm arm relaxed from his waist and he felt Obi-Wan start to slip away, sliding across Anakin's prostate as he did so, enough to push Anakin over the edge. He hefted his slightly-raised leg higher to put a knee up on the table, clenching and coming with no overt friction as Obi-Wan collapsed on Anakin's back with an endearing cry. Anakin's mechno-hand shattered the table edge as he came and he lost his balance, all his weight and Obi-Wan's, too, shifting to the right as they both fell on their sides to the cool cobblestones. They did nothing consciously for many minutes.

Anakin rubbed his come thoughtfully around his abdomen after a time. The anti-moisture barriers in the glove's synthleather formula resisted any stains. That means the glove does stain, but it doesn't want to, Anakin thought, recalling the several sets of replacement gloves he had on backorder at the Quartermaster's. Not that he cared at the moment. The mist, combined with the stones and his declining adrenaline level, made Anakin shiver. He glanced over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, who looked serene and quite comfortable. "Let's go, Master."

Obi-Wan ran a hand over the dried semen. He scratched the flakes off Anakin's navel until Anakin pulled away. Obi-Wan said, "Well, this was ... okayyy, I guess ... sort of, ah, restful ... but I've heard real sex has mud wrestling and biting, lots of biting, did I mention biting?" Anakin slapped Obi-Wan's wrist lightly.

The river collapsed.

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