[identity profile] la-bond-girl.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] execute_order69
Title: Fire Loves Me
Chapter : "Caught On Fire", #1 of many more
Fandom : Star Wars
Characters/Pairing : Anakin/Obi-Wan (OTP), with Anakin/other, Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon throughout the fic
Warnings : Slash. AU. Warnings will change with each chapter, though, so give them an eye first.
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] leighm [♥]
Rating : R for this chapter, NC-17 for the entire story.
Disclaimer : All characters belong to George Lucas, no copyright infringement is intended, yadayadayada, you know the drill. George, please do not sue. We've paid enough money in merch already.
Archive: Go on, just give us a holler first.
Feedback: Feed the authors, feed the muses, hellyeahprettyprettyplease?
Authors' Notes : We screw canon for better porn. So what?

Authors : [livejournal.com profile] zephyrina and [livejournal.com profile] la_genevoise.



Chapter # 1, Caught On Fire



Soundtrack (help yourselves, rapidshare) :

Mein Hertz Brennt, Rammstein - overall mood for our fic
Hilf Mir, Rammstein - title inspiration
Feuer Frei, Rammstein - Anakin's inspiration
20th Century Boy, Placebo (Velvet Goldmine) - Obi-Wan's inspiration
Freek, George Michael - bar
Stuck In A Moment, U2 - bar

~*~

Eye Candy :

0507-rs02 0010aw58

*****



Prologue


- …Give him a chance, the Council will. –

- A… chance? –

- To prove himself true. Be careful, we must, Master Jinn. Hard times, these are, and clouded the future is. Give the boy a chance, we will. Make hasty promises, we will not. –

The tall Jedi, albeit not happy with the Council’s decisions, bowed in submission and left. It did not matter if Master Yoda had some reservations, he would think about it later, once the boy was safely on Coruscant.

One step at a time.

*****


A few minutes later, Qui-Gon entered his chambers.

He was looking downwards as he walked, as always when he had some serious thoughts on things he deemed important. Both hands clasped behind his back would signal that he did not wish to be interrupted, while a smirk meant that he would not care even if the Temple were about to fall on his head.

Today, that was not the case though. Today, he was not smirking.

- They said yes. - he said in a neutral tone, once the door closed behind him.

His former Padawan rubbed his eyes, a half-written mission report in his lap. - Master Yoda must be getting reckless with age. When are you leaving then, Master? - Even though almost equal in rank now, Obi-Wan could not quite consider himself equal enough to Qui-Gon to drop the respectful address. Besides, it was also a little trick to tickle and tease the man’s ego.

- A very appropriate question, Obi-Wan, even if there is an implicit mistake in it. –

The younger Jedi cocked an eyebrow in silent question, green eyes alight with curiosity. This was just what Qui-Gon sought to see. He was not one who was willing to give any sweet treat for free, something Obi-Wan knew all too well. Dealing with Master Jinn required patience and a great amount of it.

Silence fell in the room as Qui-Gon crossed it to sit on the table, one leg hanging loosely off it. - I am not going anywhere, - he said after a while, before pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He was getting a headache.

- You. You will go and get the boy. -

- I beg your pardon? - The forgotten holopad off his knees now, Obi-Wan's full attention was on Qui-Gon. He knew better than to expect an explanation and he was not the one to question direct orders of the Jedi Council.

He was, however, concerned about how his friend took to this turn of events. "Not too well" would, perhaps, be an understatement, at least judging from the look on the older man's face. Over the years, Obi-Wan had learned to recognize the little signs coming from Qui-Gon, such as the light tapping of fingers on the table, lips pressed in a thin, white line, eyes slightly narrowed… now that Qui-Gon was away from other people's eyes, he did not have to hide his frustration any longer.

At last, Obi-Wan spoke out. The lightness of his tone did not betray his uneasy mind, even though he was sure that that would not fool Qui-Gon. His former Master knew all the tricks in the book, after all.

- The mission is straightforward enough. Get in, get the boy, get out. Keep it quick and quiet. I do hope you are right and it is not another wild bantha chase. At any rate, I will bring him to you, Master. -

- Good. - The Jedi nodded once. - You are to leave immediately. The sooner we have him here, the better for the Order. This is not a bantha chase, my not-so-wise former Padawan. I was right back then, I am right now. Mark my words. -

It was Obi-Wan's turn to bow his head in feigned submission. He knew when his place was to act, not to debate. His gesture seemed to achieve some effect anyway, because Qui-Gon stopped the nervous tapping and got up to his feet.

- I have no recommendations to make nor advice to give. Just bring him here. Now go. -

The younger man was already on his way out when Qui-Gon called him back and they locked in a tight embrace.

- May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan. –

Obi-Wan replied with an affectionate kiss, the roughness of Qui-Gon's lips a familiar comfort.


*****



The dark-hooded figure watched the Jedi spaceship recede and vanish into the starry sky, it then turned in a whirl of black cape and became one with the darkness. Things were going according to plan.

*****



Chapter # 1


Obi-Wan Kenobi squinted at the scorching twin suns and scowled. At least this time he got to see the spaceport town. Not that Mos Espa was anything to look at. Not that he was interested in sights. He was there for a reason.

As for their last time on Tatooine, Qui-Gon Jinn had failed to adopt a pathetic life form called Anakin Skywalker. Nine years later, it was for Obi-Wan to correct his mistake.

He recalled how last time the Force had led them away from the parched planet to liberate Naboo together with Queen Amidala and to a fatal duel with a Sith Lord. Obi-Wan had emerged victorious and Qui-Gon wounded, both in body and in pride. It had taken him a while to recover, especially from the latter. His onetime Master was a great Jedi and a good man, but some traits of his temper could just not be tamed by the strict discipline imposed by the Code. Probably, that was the main reason why it was Obi-Wan and not Qui-Gon who was now walking the crowded streets of the merchants' district in the windblown sand, in search of a dingy shop of a Toydarian named Watto.

- …This way! This way! –

Suddenly, a group of children appeared from behind the next corner and started to run towards him. They were busy in a game of chase, screaming at each other with high-pitched voices and oblivious to the displeased glares some adults cast them.

An old woman stepped out of her house to yell after them, only adding to the chaos. One of the kids turned to yell back and instead of avoiding Obi-Wan, he ran right into his legs.

- Oh… Sorry, sir! –

- Easy, little one. You like to run? -

- Yes! - The child, not a day older than five, rewarded him with a broad smile and nodded.

- Want to chase until Watto's shop ? I'll give you a headstart and a coin if you get there first. -

After another enthusiastic nod the boy started running again. The Jedi jogged easily and with pleasure after him. Any wind was welcome in that heat. As it turned out, the finish line turned out to be just around the corner and the prize was solemnly awarded to a happy little winner.

However, the closed doors of the mud-and-sand hut of Watto salvage shop thwarted Obi-Wan. So much for the quick part of the mission. The next door merchant gruffly informed him that both the old Watto and the Skywalker boy had already left for the day. Well, at least his target was still around.

Obi-Wan shrugged the curious gazes off his back as he was sure no one would take him for a Jedi in his skin-tight black leather Corellian attire. He could genuinely be mistaken for a metropolitan adventure seeker on his way to some shady deal with the Hutts.

With his strawberry blond hair cut short, a three-day beard, his lightsaber masked as a blaster, he looked and felt the part.

Being away from Qui-Gon had always made him feel daring. No need to be the voice of reason. No need to decipher the moods. No need to share the room. Master Jinn's company could be tiresome, at times.

Whistling and with a spring in his step, he set to explore the dusty town on foot and now wandered into a bustling pleasure district. The twilight was falling briskly and the buzz was getting louder. Revelers and pleasure workers of all shapes and accents flowed around him in a vibrant stream of voices and bodies.

Obi-Wan was not a stranger to the lower levels of civilization, both in the line of Jedi duty and satisfying his own private curiosity for casual encounters. He kept his prowling to himself, though. The Jedi Order would not want to know and Qui-Gon Jinn would not allow it. The older man was willing to share everything and anything if being asked to, with the exception of his lightsaber and his onetime Padawan.

At a certain point, he stopped, distracted by a running neon sign. Underneath it was a cheap bar, the kind of place where a right amount of credits out of your pocket could guarantee to blow your mind with the latest dream-drug or just someone to blow you.


Speaking of which...

There was a boy leaning against the wall, near the entrance. A very young one, he could not be more than seventeen, clad in light brown clothes. He wore a pair of thin, leather bracelets at both wrists, and that, together with the cheap-looking garments, gave away his humble background. He was a slave, perhaps, or a teenage whore and a really cute one, he must admit, with such long limbs and wavy hair.

...Remarkable.


If this was the local talent, then Tatooine did itself proud. The boy's delicate features were perfectly matched with that defiant look Obi-Wan spotted in his eyes, creating a mix of contrasts that could only be defined as enticing.

Obi-Wan found himself staring, taking in every detail. He also found the boy staring back, as if he were studying the stranger, too, and that was... well, encouraging to say the least.

Some moments passed before Obi-Wan realized that the teenage hottie had moved from his place, taking a hesitant step or two in his direction. Obi-Wan's heart missed a beat in a very un-Jedi-like fashion. The mutual stare-off seemed to escalate into a play then, and the other side was making the first move. It mattered not if he was the prey or rather the hunter. The Jedi felt a thrill and flashed his most fetching grin at the approaching boy.

Abruptly, the teen tilted his head to the side, and now it became plain he was not paying attention to Obi-Wan any longer.

- 'Twas about time, guys. I was growing old against that wall! –

- Oh, shut up, Flyboy! -

A group of teenagers brushed past Obi-Wan. The males, a Rodian and two humans, simply ignored him, but a blond girl took her time goggling at the stranger, clearly taken with his sleek blond-on-black look. Soon enough though, she moved over to join her friends, already busy chit-chatting in a low tone of voice.

Obi-Wan felt an actual twinge of disappointment that he had smugly misread the other's signals. It was quite a letdown that the boy was now slipping away. He would not have minded to get a closer look… or a closer feel, as a sudden yearning shot through his body.

In that moment, the girl smacked one of the guys with her hand, feigning a pout.

– Waldo, you're dumb. Are we here to hang out in front of the door, anyway? –

- Amee has a point, let's go inside. –

It had been Obi Wan's center of attention who spoke, the one they called "Flyboy". A strange nickname, but somehow, it suited him. He took the Amee girl by her elbow and began to lead her towards the bar's entrance. The other boys followed them, laughing at something Waldo the Rodian said.

Either by chance or by purpose, Flyboy did not go inside first, but waited until all his friends had vanished behind the door. Then he turned and cast Obi-Wan a last burning look before entering as well.

- Now you're talking! - Obi-Wan laughed to himself. The young Jedi kicked the dirt with the tip of his rancor boot in hesitation. Chasing after some admittedly pretty blue eyes was not part of his Tatooine agenda, but it would certainly not interfere with it and could be done within quick and quiet parameters.

Well, maybe not so quiet.

He laughed out loud this time and crossed the street to enter the bar. Obi-Wan believed in listening to his feelings and he felt driven to follow up on the last look in the boy's eyes.

The last year's music was blaring in a poorly lit and already crowded cantina as the Jedi headed straight for the bar. Observe first, act last, Padawan. This lesson had been useful to Obi-Wan in more situations that Master Yoda would have dared to imagine.

He elbowed some space for himself between a twittering Twi’lek and a human farmer. The local specialty cocktail name brought a boyish mischievous grin to his face and he ordered it. Double. The turquoise brew smoked poisonously, looking strong enough to knock out a husky wookiee but he had handled worse at some official ceremonies.

Resting his elbows, nonchalantly, on the counter, Obi-Wan turned to face the crowded room, taking in the buzz and the movement around him.

He soon spotted the tall frame and the blond curls of his tonight's target. His small group of friends was already near a large table, within the Jedi's earshot and a clear line of vision, discussing who should start some game. The game seemed to consist of making holographic balls hit each other out of the way and into corner holes, by pushing them with tips of long thin sticks.

Where there were men, there were ball games, mused Obi-Wan. He decided not to pursue this line of thought to its next crude logical step but rather to advance in his own, more subtle game of hitting on an object of his fancy.

Said object was currently leaning against his own stick, a slight, amused smile on his face while he waited for Amee to be done perorating her cause. She seemed persuaded that the boys did not value her enough, just because of her sex, therefore she wanted to start playing first to make up for it. The girl had a lively personality indeed, that much was clear.

- Are you quite done? – inquired Flyboy in the end of her impassionate plea.

- Yes! –

- Great. Then, I’ll start while you wait for your turn, which happens to be the last. –

The other boys burst into laughter at this as Amee smacked him on the shoulder, as hard as she could. Outraged, she turned her head and spotted Obi-Wan, just when the Jedi took his eyes off a long blond curl, begging to be untucked from Flyboy's left ear.

Their gazes locked but for a moment, prompting the girl to smile, albeit a bit hesitant. Obi-Wan swiftly stepped into his window of opportunity and met hers with a dazzling smile of his own, one from a 'charm-the-savages-off-their-trees' diplomatic repertoire. Perhaps, this would not have been enough with a grown-up woman, but Amee was little more than a child, still lacking experience in many fields, so she fell for it.

Her smile resembled a grin as she drew near the Jedi, her head slightly tilted to the side, unconsciously showing him her best profile. – They’re being mean. Have you seen? -

- Oh, but who laughs last, laughs best. - Master Yoda was a bottomless well of universal platitudes indeed.

- That’s true. And I will be that one, I tell you. – Amee shrugged and slipped both hands in her pockets, suddenly shy. – My name’s Amee. What’s yours? I’ve never seen you around here before. –

- I'm just passing by. Waiting for a deal to fall through. - Obi-Wan skipped the name issue and noted with satisfaction how Flyboy's eyes brushed past him to see what Amee was up to, then flew back to Obi-Wan's face in surprise. - So, is this how you amuse yourselves on Tatooine? -

- Not much to do here except play ball and race pods and chase womp rats. - Amee continued, oblivious to Flyboy’s gaze burning holes in her back. - Pilots are always telling stories about how everywhere else is more fun than Tatooine. You look like you are from a Central Planet, maybe even Coruscant? Do you have stories to tell? Interesting stories? I'm always so bored, I would love to hear some. -

Obi-Wan smiled sincerely at her sweet naiveté, pulled the girl's delicate arm out of her pocket and leaned towards Amee with a conspiratory whisper. - Lots. Stories about forests of Naboo and snow caps of Alderaan, oceans of Corellia and skyscrapers of Coruscant. Real adventures, you know. -

Over Amee's shoulder, Obi-Wan saw Flyboy's tightened jaw as the teen scrutinized their growing proximity. Apparently, none of it was to his liking.

- Just tell me what you want to hear. I can go on all night. - With these words, the Jedi brought his mouth close towards Amee's ear and enjoyed to see the girl shiver under the heat of his breath.

Obi-Wan usually admired the shapeliness of a female form and enjoyed plunging into a soft intimacy of straight lovemaking, but that was not why he came to this bar tonight. The boy was his real target. He was now openly glaring at Obi-Wan from afar. Obi-Wan reckoned it was time to stop playing hard-to-get. His quarry had warmed up plenty.

- I believe it's your turn to play now, Amee. Let's show them what we've got. -

- Yes! – Amee was almost beaming now, already won and conquered by the stranger’s charms. She grabbed Obi-Wan by his forearm, pulling him towards her friends. He let himself be dragged there with a half-reluctant look, while thinking how easy the teenage girls were, really. No Jedi mind tricks needed.

– He’s a friend of mine, - she announced as soon as they reached the table, emphasizing the word ‘mine’, - He’s playing with us, with me. –

- You surely would give me a chance, wouldn't you? - Obi-Wan addressed directly to Flyboy with a playful grin.

The teen looked at the stranger from head to toe, as if evaluating him. He then shrugged, showing the complete lack of interest he had in this man or at least he dearly hoped his interest would not show that much.

– As you like. As long as you know the rules, I don’t really care. –

Flyboy then pointed at Amee with his stick. – Will you move, darling? I don’t want to lose the whole evening here, waiting for you to be done with your whims. –

- Go and fuck yourself, babyslave, - replied Amee, glaring. She was still fuming from their previous exchange.

- That is physically impossible, you know. - With a poker face, Obi-Wan cut in. - Unless he is exceptionally hung. Otherwise, it really takes two. Are you exceptionally well hung? -

- What? I… - Flyboy’s cheeks had turned a flattering shade of cherry within a heartbeat. Now he was staring at Obi-Wan, his lips slightly open. – I… - he tried again, but to no avail. No smart answers seemed to come to mind and his friends, who had so far remained quiet, started to giggle.

Amee shot him a satisfied look, before leaning down to play. That served him well, she thought. The boy would not remain silent for long, but the present look on his face and the way he was fidgeting his fingers was priceless.

- That's none of your concern, I think! – Flyboy snapped in the end, angrily. He sounded convincing enough, but everything was ruined by the look on his face. If possible, he was blushing even more furiously than before and his eyes would never leave the Jedi.

- If you say so... - Obi-Wan made a contented little sip of the vile turquoise brew, making a show of licking his lips slowly, his eyes locking with the boy's now shocked blue stare.

Qui-Gon could never resist Obi-Wan's little performances, so the Jedi knew a little lip show went a long way with an already interested party.

First, the very tip of his tongue darted out to softly swipe along his upper lip, then it retreated slowly, leaving way for his white teeth to lightly bite the lower lip, coloring it vivid red. The teen stood transfixed for a second, then unconsciously wetted his own pouty mouth and swallowed hard. His friends' laughter soon woke him out of it, though, and he eventually tore away his gaze from the Jedi's somewhat swollen lips, which were now spreading into a knowing smile.

The boy narrowed his eyes. This stranger was playing with him, that much was clear. Perfect. He was able to play as well. The outlander had first batted his eyelashes at him, when they were outside, only to jump on Amee the moment afterwards. Probably, a female turned him on more than a boy, but still this man had no right to… well, to behave like that.

Not that Flyboy had hoped to have any steamy encounter with him, no. He was only interested in teasing him a bit more, for his ego's sake, but with Amee in the middle, all his plans had vanished into thin air.

He would show him what he was losing, then.

It was his turn to shoot. Flyboy put both hands on the table's edge and leaned down. Apparently, he was studying the balls' positions in order to place a good shoot, but the way he moved his hips, slowly rocking them back and forth, spoke volumes.

Look at me, he thought, look at me.

He got his wish alright. Obi-Wan looked at him and went spellbound.

This was when Obi-Wan Kenobi ultimately lost himself. He did not lose his cool composure or the grin. Still, he got this sinking feeling of falling and falling hard for the beckoning beauty of this young body - the legs which went on and on, the insolent profile, the raw sexual energy in every boyish movement. Lost as he was, losing the game and not getting the boy was now unthinkable. His green eyes darker, Obi-Wan began to play in earnest.

Unbeknownst of what was going on in the Jedi's mind, Flyboy eventually went still and positioned himself for the shot. He was not sure that the cocky man had noticed what he had just done, though, so he flashed a quick peek over his shoulder.

Odd. The stranger stood there less than a minute ago, at Amee's side... where did he go? The boy's perplexity was short-lived and was replaced by sheer bewilderment as two masculine hands firmly took him by his waist and tilted him slightly to the right.

– Don't you ever dare to… - the teen hissed, only to be cut off by Obi-Wan. - You need lessons, boy, - said the Jedi in his condescending clipped voice. Expensive, warm male scent rushed over him in a wave of craving, prompting Flyboy to slip and shoot blindly, missing the ball altogether.

A burst of laughter saluted his poor performance, making him blush for the second time in a row. This was so not happening. He could not believe that a stranger was publicly ridiculing him, and he did not give a damn how fine the man looked. There were plenty of other hot-looking people around, thank you very much.

- I said don't you ever… - Flyboy pushed the man’s hands away.

- Not only do you need lessons, you need to loosen up and you need a drink. - Obi-Wan stepped aside and carelessly waved his own cocktail around, remembering its singularly tacky name.

- This. Is. A Slow Screw. You know you want it. -

Obi-Wan gracefully shifted his weight, allowing a better view of his body, knowing that the boy would follow both his pivoting, lithe hips and his barely veiled innuendo. Flyboy’s pupils widened, even if just for a second.

- I don't need any screw, much less even a slow one! –

- How about a fast one? - retorted the Jedi, pointing at the twin drink a nearby buzzing Toydarian held in his tiny hand. While serving him, the bartender had informed him about the bar's other speciality, an electric violet mixture opportunely called "Fast Screw".

The teen was about to answer, but the Rodian sharply elbowed him. - He is hitting on you, stupid. -

- Hitting or missing, the choice is yours. So, do you want to play balls with me or not? – Obi-Wan enjoyed the thrill of putting the cards on the table in a negotiation, a dramatic gesture pushing the other party to make the next step. This time, however, he found his heart beating faster than usual, even though confident in his chances.

He knew he was attractive. Qui-Gon repeated it often enough. Qui's exact choice of words were "my exquisite Padawan" or, using a not so subtle euphemism, "there's nothing sweeter than sinking my cock into your hot… shuura pie", depending on the company and the heat of the moment.

Obi-Wan did not care for compliments. What counted was that his looks helped to smooth matters along outside the chaste world of the Jedi Temple. Tonight he was hoping they'd help him to smooth himself alongside this boy's body, who was staring at him as if this Corellian-looking pirate had suddenly grown another head or something.

Flyboy did not understand anything anymore. Again, he recounted the facts as he knew them. First, the stranger had shown interest in him, then had jumped head-first on Amee instead and now...

- You've got to be kidding me, - he said in the end, addressing Waldo, but before the Rodian could answer, Amee stepped in, incensed, both hands on her hips, her eyes as two sharp daggers.

- Hey! You said you wanted to play with me, and now you're batting your eyelashes at him? He's a male, you dumbass! -

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. He never liked aggravations of a feminine kind. - I didn't say this. I said we should show them what we've got. You've shown you can shoot well for a girl, I've shown I am well-versed in the rules of the game, if Flyboy over here wants to take a chance on me. -

- He doesn't! – Amee turned on her heels. Her cheeks were crimson red and she pointed at her friend. – You don't, do you? –

Flyboy swallowed hard, then he straightened his back. – Amee… - A brief hesitation, just the time to catch a quick peek at Obi-Wan, and then he continued, - go play with your dolls and leave us be, hm ? –

- You little… bastard! I hate all of you ! – Amee's hands curled up into fists, but in the end she did nothing but gave the Jedi a shove and walked away.

- Pfff, females… you just can't talk to them when they're near their period, - commented a boy named Kister, eliciting another outburst of laughter. Flyboy did not join them, he was too busy studying the stranger. Seemingly unperturbed by Amee's display, Obi-Wan stretched himself leisurely against a nearby pillar.

The tension around the table went noticeably up a notch but the other boys took their turns in the game, curiously glancing from the smirking stranger to their pensive friend, who were now clearly involved in some complicated, silent staring-off exchange of their own.

Flyboy blushed violently at times, when the stranger’s fingers ran up and down over Amee's stick, in a more than explicit gesture, their eyes meeting for longer and longer period of time.

When Obi-Wan's turn came, he bent over the table to his best advantage, his lean legs apart, his tightly clad round bottom right in Flyboy's reddened face, beckoning full attention. He froze in the position, taut with tease, long enough to make a point, then hit the ball hard and grunted almost sensuously with effort.

Oddly enough, the boy made the very same noise, in the very same moment. He could not help himself, really. It had taken him quite a while to realize that the stranger was interested in him after all, and not in Amee. Now that the lightbulb had switched on, he found himself more and more thrilled by the whole situation, despite the ever-present embarrassment.

He did not really care if Seek had just elbowed Kister, murmuring something about him drooling over the Pirate’s slender behind. He was drooling anyway.

Obi-Wan happily surveyed his highest score with a certain glee, turned round fast and jumped to sit on the table in one smooth, catlike motion, legs in leather boots, dangling carelessly. He looked straight and hard into Flyboy's eyes and laughed.

- So, you've never answered. In fact, you've practically stopped talking and you seem to have quite a mouth on you. You may come and whisper in my ear, if you are shy. -

He leaned back and looked at the lamp in the ceiling, hands supporting him, his pose suddenly relaxed and inviting.

- See? I told you so!! –

- Waldo, shut up. –

Flyboy had a hand on his hip. He seemed to have found the smartass part of himself again, at least judging from the way he pointed the tip of his stick at Obi-Wan. – I'm not shy. Ask everyone, they will tell you the same thing. You just surprised me. Yes. –

Obi-Wan exhaled loudly and gave the boy his best 'don't-bullshit-me' look. At the sound of his sigh, Flyboy took an unsteady step towards the Pirate as if he were being pulled towards him against his will. The man was different from everyone he knew, both challenging and exciting him, and it started to have quite an effect, even if he was not yet ready to admit it.

Obi-Wan took advantage of this by fluidly leaning forward and tugging Flyboy gently by his brown belt loops towards him. Caught unaware, the boy almost stumbled between the Jedi's spread knees, eyes widening in surprise.

It lasted a very short period of time, and soon his anger took over.

- What the hell do you think you're doing? – he hissed, putting both hands on the other man's chest. Infuriated, he merely wanted to push the Pirate away, because despite the excitement, he preferred to play by his own rules. However, the contact, the very first one between them, sent a shiver through his whole body.

- Uh? – Confused, Flyboy raised his head and looked at Obi-Wan. – What was that? -

The Jedi blinked in confusion, too, a familiar Qui-Gon sensation flashing over his body, then brushed it off as a very untimely pang of conscience. - A very simple truth your smart body is telling your dumb brain. -

The boy was taller than Obi-Wan, so now their eyes were on the same level. Obi-Wan tentatively and carefully leaned into the warmth of the boy's smooth face and barely brushed a smooth tanned cheek with his own blond stubble. He paused there, inhaling the boy's musky perfume. It excited him with waves of shivers visibly running through both their bodies.

- You think I vex you. I think you want me. –

- Even if it were true? – answered the boy, but somehow he did not sound convincing at all. He would certainly not admit it, but he liked the position they both were in, he liked the troubling effects that it was having on him, and he even liked the sensation of the stranger's short beard against his face.

- What if I wanted you? –

- Then kiss him! – shouted Seek, the quietest one among them, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect. Oh, this was going to be fun!

- Ten credits that he won’t do it, - said Kister, - he doesn't have the balls to do that. –

Their object of betting had meant to try and keep the Pirate on his toes for a while more, unwilling to let someone else lead the game. Things were not supposed to go that way. He was prideful and passionate, and the fact that the stranger really was after him titillated his ego. Then, those stupid friends of his started placing bets against him, giving him the last push he needed.

Flyboy was not an experienced kisser, he knew that much. The only living beings he had kissed so far were Amee and a boy he had stumbled into at Mos Eisley. Two people only, but he meant to make it up with his enthusiasm. Cupping the stranger’s face, he put all of his passion into shoving his tongue into the other man’s mouth, literally ravaging him.

Obi-Wan's world spun around, giving in to this overwhelmingly hot but inexperienced invasion. As soon as he had enough air to moan and his heart started beating again, though, the Jedi confidently took over.

He sucked on the other's full lower lip, then let his teeth tantalizingly slide off it, only to descend again upon this pouty mouth, swirling around the boy's unsure tongue with his own, swallowing each breath. He did all of this while guiding the boy's now unconsciously undulating body against his own, running his hands over the young muscles under the cheap shirt, until the boy's knees buckled and brought his hips towards Obi-Wan's already burning crotch.

In that moment, Flyboy suddenly remembered about his hands. They were still cupping the Jedi's face, but they were idle so far. What was happening within his mouth, and his pants, too, sort of distracted him from all the rest. Quickly, he moved them downwards, to get at last to the chiselled ass he had had the chance to stare at before. Once there, he grabbed it and gave it a firm squeeze, as their hips ground together.

As a moan escaped the boy’s lips, he foolishly wondered why his pants seemed to be way tighter than a few minutes before.

Obi-Wan's own already tight pants became even tighter to the point of pleasurable pain, with each forceful, rhythmic rub of Flyboy's hips and the random fondling of his behind, oblivious to the surrounding cheer of the spectators.

Soon, completely pressed against the boy and abandoned to the roaming rough hands, Obi-Wan gasped at the semi-conscious realization that it was definitely not the huge belt buckle which was urging into him. So he slipped his hand between their heated bodies, reached towards the bulge and ran its length, his eyes widening with breathless anticipation.

- Oh. Big boy. -

- Is this… answer satisfying enough? - breathed the teen against Obi Wan's lips, before licking their seam with the tip of his tongue. Even in a moment like that, while groping and being groped by a stranger in a cheap bar, sarcasm never left him.

The Jedi ignored the tone. He was getting what he wanted, and for that, he needed a room. Very soon and for quite a long time too, as he wanted many things and this young body was openly willing to provide them all.

It could wait for another minute though, as melting into another man's body was intoxicating like never before. Obi-Wan tilted his head and slowly ran his tongue from the collar of the boy's shirt to his ear, leaving a wet trace of shivers in its wake, while wrapping his legs and hands around the boy's bottom.

The boy claimed Obi-Wan's lips again, with more skill this time, teasing with his tongue all the nooks he had found to be particularly sensitive in his previous trip through the Jedi's mouth. He liked how he was making this man shudder in his arms and to shudder himself, too.

Besides, his grip on reality was quickly loosening, swept away by the feeling of those able hands on his backside and the throbbing pulse in his pants. He wanted to ease it, he wanted this hot-looking pirate to ease it, and it could not come soon enough.

- Hey, Anakin is really at it… Ani! Just try not to come in your pants! – shouted Waldo in that moment, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect.

Anakin?

Obi-Wan's lust-filled merry-go-round world came to an abrupt standstill as it collided with a boy's name.

Head-on.

His hands, frozen on the grinding willing body, his mind shuddering under the avalanche of implications.

He finally threw off the benumbing stupor with an effort and took his hand off Anakin's bottom, ignoring the frustrated moan the boy let out. Gingerly, as if dealing with a charged explosive, he disengaged from the boy’s embrace and slid from the table, head down, eyes staring unseeingly into space.

- Hey! – Apparently, Anakin did not take well to the sudden change in his admirer's mood, as he grabbed the Jedi by his forearm and gave him a sharp pull. – Where are you going? – he demanded in a hiss.

The man resisted the tug, paused for seemingly an eternity and the unexplainable gravity of his manner silenced the boy.

When Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Perfect Jedi Knight, lifted his gaze towards Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, it was chilly bluegreen. Level. Impenetrable. Impervious to Anakin's angry confusion.

With well-articulated words, - I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Anakin, - the Jedi bowed his head curtly and courteously, cutting off any possible questions. Then, he turned on his heels and strode out of the bar, never looking back and leaving behind a very confused boy.

Anakin could not figure out what had happened. One moment he was being ravished by a leather-clad pirate with the best looking ass ever, and the next moment the Pirate had run off. If it were not for the hard-on he had, he might have thought it was just a dream.

- Ani, he ditched you. Fair and square, I might add. Perhaps it means that you suck when it comes to kissing. – Seek sounded amused beyond belief.

These words woke Anakin out of his bewilderment. The nearest thing was the stranger's stick, forgotten over the table until that moment, so Anakin took it and broke it in two, before vehemently casting it aside.

Outside, Obi-Wan walked fast. The darkness could not soothe him. His heart was beating out of his chest. His hands burned him.

*****


TRIVIA :

- The working title for this chapter was "PANTS ON FIRE".
- One of the authors typed c.o.c.k. for the very first time. You guess which one. Winners will be awarded with Obi-Wan's anatomically correct dolls.
- Obi-Wan begged to perform a striptease but was offered a cold shower and 12 runs around the Temple instead.
- Everybody bounced a lot.



Date: 2006-02-12 02:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sithme.livejournal.com
Fantastic start.

I love the setting you have them in, AU can be a wonderful thing. I love what you guys have begun, and I can't wait to read more. :)

- Hey, Anakin is really at it… Ani! Just try not to come in your pants! – shouted Waldo in that moment, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect.

Anakin?


Talk about a cock-block.

Date: 2006-02-12 11:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nahemaraxe.livejournal.com
Precisely, poor Obi-Wan really had no idea whose ass he was happily fondling. I almost feel pity for him [almost XD].

Thanks :D *beams* we are already working on the second chapter :)

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