Whispers [Star Wars, Ani/Obi, 542 Words] Fandom: Star Wars Title: Whispers (542 Words) Author:jarkai_fic on LJ / jarkai everywhere else Beta:legolad Theme(s): (For 30_somethings on Insanejournal, Nights: #21, Shadowy) Pairing/Characters: Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi Rating: Rated R. Disclaimer/claimer: Pure PWP set in the AOTC era, and unashamed of it. Critiques: Yes Summary: The door was ajar.
Tangled in the sheets, Obi-Wan woke gasping, unsure of where he was. The room resolved itself into familiar shapes soon enough, the details of the mission following, but--there it was again, that sound. He sat quickly, straining to hear. Another whimper, soft and desperate. He tensed, uncertain what to do. Stationed on a Force-forsaken rock or not, Anakin was a child no longer. Surely he could handle a simple nightmare on his own.
The next cry decided it. Obi-Wan jerked on his sleep-pants and strode down the corridor that separated their guest chambers. Ever so slightly, the door had been left open. He laid a hand upon it, but stopped at the last moment before entering. Another small cry rooted him in place, urging him to peer through the crack before he went inside. At the sight, his mouth went dry. Naked, Anakin writhed upon the bed, body glistening with sweat, cock peeking from between his fingers with each thrust.
Heat rushing to his face, Obi-Wan stepped back. A floorboard groaned, the creak seeming blaster-loud in the resulting silence from the room. Obi-Wan could not move. He dared not.
Slowly the sounds resumed: sighs, skin sliding over slippery flesh. Obi-Wan pressed back against the wall, trying to ignore the images playing through his mind. Were they even his own? Through the Padawan bond, Anakin's thoughts echoed in Obi-Wan's skull, pictures of entwined bodies unfolding behind his eyes, both legs and lips locked together in bliss. A familiar face drifted past and Obi-Wan gasped, clamping a hand over his own mouth to muffle the noise. He no longer pressed against the wall, but leaned heavily against it, its support all that kept him on his feet.
Beyond the door, Anakin's hand sped up, and Obi-Wan found he could not look away, not from the wet fingers or from the desires whirling through his head, Anakin's or his own--he could not tell which was which. With a quiet moan, his body responded, the hardness so sudden between his legs that it nearly hurt.
No, certainly not a boy anymore. Anakin had become a man, and Obi-Wan could deny it no longer.
Through the gap, a glassy gaze met his. For an instant, fear flared in Anakin's eyes, only to be obliterated by recognition. His hand paused, and then started again, the strokes harder and more insistent. He made no pretense of hiding his noises now, his every cry an invitation.
"Obi-Wan, Master--" All at once Anakin fell silent, arching. His toes curled in the sheets as he came, gripping at the fabric for purchase.
It was only then that Obi-Wan realized where his own hand had fallen, what he was doing, no longer caring who knew or who saw. He came with a shout, Anakin's name torn from his lips so loudly that--
Obi-Wan woke gasping, the sheets in a strangle hold around his waist, the ceiling above him seeming to heave with every breath.
A knock. "Master? Are you all right?"
Face red, Obi-Wan scrambled to cover himself. Stickiness on the sheets, on his thighs, everywhere. "Fine, fine, just--I'm fine, Anakin."
"I'll say," Anakin whispered, almost too quiet to be real.
And then, very gently, Obi-Wan's door clicked shut.