Ani & Obi Advent Calendar - Dec 01 to Dec 15 Fandom: Star Wars Title: Ani & Obi Advent Calendar Dec 01 - 14 (16 icons and 2,838 words thus far ) Author:jarkai_fic on LJ / jarkai everywhere else Beta:legolad Rating: Rated M for sexual suggestiveness. Disclaimer/claimer: Pure PWP naughtiness for the holidays. Critiques: Yes
DEC 01 - BOW To hell with subtlety. So far, hints had gotten him nowhere. The special vids left in their player, the magazines left poking out from beneath the mattress they shared--how could he think all that was just an accident?
With a deep breath, he tugged open the drawer beside his bed, making sure that the needed implements were all in plain sight, and then stretched out, skin naked against the sheets. He wriggled awkwardly, finding the perfect position. This way. No, this way, arms spread, legs spread even wider than that, hands and feet as close to brushing the bedposts as he could make them. Only then did he call the red silk scarves from the bedside table, turning himself into the only present in the world that did not long to be unwrapped.
He shuddered at the thought. That did not mean he wanted to be left intact.
Only inches away, the nipple clips and the paddle waited.
DEC 02 - CANDY CANE Head bowed over his datapad, Obi-Wan sucked absently at the mint and sugar confection, his tongue playing languidly over the cane's reddened tip each time he came to a particularly difficult bit of translation. The Dhansak's greetings alone were incredibly complex, enough that he often had to pause to read aloud, regardless of his sticky mouth.
Across the table from him, Anakin groaned.
Obi-Wan glanced up, eyebrow raised.
Obi-Wan blinked, confused. "Pardon?"
On Anakin's face, frustration gave way to a slow smile. He reached into the bowl set between them, carefully unwrapped another of the candies, and slid its shaft between his own lips.
DEC 03 - FUR Obi-Wan held the coat up dubiously, his nose wrinkled. "What kind of animal do you think..."
"Who cares? It's warm and we're not." Even as Anakin spoke, he tugged at the ties of his leggings. "Why aren't you getting undressed?"
"There's only one fur!"
"One fur made for a giant, you mean."
Frowning, Obi-Wan slid his arm into one of the enormous sleeves. Instantly Anakin was at his side, pulling it back off. "What in the world are you doing? You just told me to--"
"I told you to get undressed," Anakin said crisply, looking down at him. "Your clothes are wetter than mine are. Do you want us both to freeze?"
Obi-Wan stared, his brows low. Plumes of breath bloomed between their faces, visible in the ice cave's chill. Slowly, Obi-Wan removed his uniform piece by piece. The leggings were a struggle given that he refused to take off his boots, but he managed it with Anakin's help. He refused to meet his partner's eye, even when the young man pressed against him, chest to chest, and drew the coat closed around their naked bodies.
As one, they slid to the cave floor, Anakin's head coming to rest in the hollow of Obi-Wan's shoulder. Reluctantly, instinctively, Obi-Wan's hands rose to chafe the broad back beneath the fur.
"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, lips brushing goose-pimpled skin.
"Warming you up," Obi-Wan replied, eyes fixed on the hang of icicles overhead.
"Basic friction, hmmm?"
Obi-Wan paused, inhaling deeply.
"If so, then I can think of two sticks we can rub together to start a fire..."
DEC 04 - GHOST Heedless of the sweat and glitter that streaked his body, Anakin hurled himself onto his bed. The slam of the door still echoed in the room, simply one more futile gesture of defiance, so easily ignored. Privacy meant nothing anymore.
Anakin rolled on his back, an arm flung over his eyes. The bead on his Padawan braid pressed uncomfortably into the back of his neck, but he did not flick it aside. "Was he always like this?"
Soft laughter was Anakin's only response.
"I'm serious! Was he always so blind? I'm throwing myself at him and--" Anakin broke off, gasping. Cool fingers stroked damp curls back from his forehead, their touch so light that it might have been imaginary. He squeezed his eyes shut, all he could do not to reach up and take hold of the man leaning over him.
If you could still call him a man.
"Qui-Gon," Anakin managed, and began to sob.
A chill hand brushed over his mouth, quieting him. "Listen," Qui-Gon said, the word more in Anakin's mind than in his ears.
In the room next door, Obi-Wan groaned a name over and over.
"Not mine," Qui-Gon whispered, "not any longer."
Anakin sat up, blinking through the mascara smeared around his eyes. "What did you do? Did you go to him? Did you--"
The room was empty. Of course it was. Qui-Gon couldn't really have been there. If he was, Obi-Wan would have sensed him. After all, Obi-Wan saw... everything?
Anakin flushed, lowering his head. Obi-Wan had known exactly what he was doing.
Next door, mattress springs squeaked.
Obi-Wan had known, and had not been immune.
Anakin rose again, and when he slipped from his room and into Obi-Wan's, he made sure not to slam the door this time.
DEC 06 - TOY Obi-Wan's eyes widened as he peered down into the box, a box he shut immediately, careful to keep his reddening face turned away from all the other Jedi at the gift exchange. For an order that insisted their members set aside all possessions, he could not understand why they upheld this ridiculous tradition every year. Training in how to deal with abject humiliation, perhaps?
Quinlan appeared at his side, the smell of brandy clinging to his grin. "So. What did you get?"
Obi-Wan seethed, voice pitched low. "You bloody well know what I got."
"How would I know that? It's a secret gift--"
"Because no one else would get me that."
His grin twitched. "Is that so? You think those things come off the shelf that way? I'll have you know that's a custom unit, and it took three modeling sessions to get it absolutely right."
"Modeling..." Obi-Wan coughed. Had he been blushing before? Now his face burnt beneath his beard. "M-modeling sessions?"
Quinlan leaned close, his dreads brushing the shell of Obi-Wan's ear. "Naked modeling sessions. How else could it be anatomically correct?"
Very slowly, Obi-Wan opened the box again. His eyes widened a second time, this time not in shock, but in sheer realization. It had to be seven inches at least, never mind the girth...
Swallowing, he glanced up, his eyes meeting Anakin's across the bustling room. Anakin did not smile. Anakin did not look away. Obi-Wan swallowed again.
Quinlan clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "You better get practicing with that blow up doll, my friend, or the real thing is going to hurt like a bitch!"
DEC 09 - ICICLES Obi-Wan stumbled into the kitchen. "Caff, must have--" He broke off. The frigid air told him that Anakin had left the freezer door open again. He grumbled under his breath and tried to slam the door. It bounced back, striking him square in the chest.
"Ow! Son of a..." Obi-Wan rubbed at the sore spot. The offending icicle wobbled and fell to the floor with a thud, cracking into several small pieces.
A snore from their shared bedroom drifted into the kitchen. Obi-Wan sucked in air as a wicked grin spread across his face. Bending, he grabbed two of the larger chunks.
"Anakin, darling." He leaned against the doorframe of their room, rolling ice between his fingers. "It is time for your lessons."
DEC 10 - HOLLY Obi-Wan muttered under his breath. Anakin was always late. More than likely he'd be late for his own damn funeral pyre, too.
Grumping, running over and over through his head where Anakin could be, Obi-Wan fumbled with the small holly bush that made up the table's centerpiece. More to the left, then more to the right. Forks and lit candles received the same adjustment, time after time.
Just as Obi-Wan sat the last dish on the table, Anakin stumbled into their shared quarters, the grin on his face reaching from ear to ear. His eyes widened at the table's setting.
They grew even bigger when he realized all Obi-Wan wore was an apron.
DEC 11 - JOLLY "This race sure has some strange customs," Anakin whispered, leaning closer to Obi-Wan.
Both men watched as another nubile female climbed upon the lap of a very rotund, older gentleman. Her fingers played over his white hair and long beard, and his skin flushed beneath the rouge already on his cheeks. Tugging his cap aside, she whispered something in his ear. The old man's laughter boomed in response, and he nipped at her neck.
"What are they doing?" Anakin asked, his eyebrows knitting.
Obi-Wan merely repeated what the brochure had explained. "They're asking for blessings in the coming year."
A smile grew on Anakin's face as he turned to look at his Master. "You know, with a little make up you could play him."
"What!" Obi-Wan scoffed. "I am much better looking than that fellow up there."
"How about a private showing then?" The smirk was audible in Anakin's voice.
Red rose in the older Jedi's cheeks.
Anakin waggled his eyebrows. "I could sit on your lap and you could ask if I had been a naughty Padawan."
Obi-Wan's silence was all the answer Anakin needed.
DEC 12 - ORNAMENT From the very moment they had touched down, everything on this mission had been a surprise. First, Anakin had no idea he could speak Dhansak better than Obi-Wan, but he doubted it was the bungled greeting that had caused the aliens to brush his Master aside. Something about the way their eye-stalks swayed back and forth, slit-eyed gazes moving from man to man, assessing...
Anakin tensed when their leader reached for Obi-Wan. He could not help it. Still, the touch was just a touch, a squeeze of bicep and nothing more. An instant later, a three-fingered hand was testing his own muscle. Without thinking, he flexed. A riot of clicking followed, and before he could say anything further he and Obi-Wan had been separated.
The second surprise came when Anakin realized he was carrying out the negotiations on his own. He'd studied the dossier, and he understood their trade dispute well enough, but really--this was more Obi-Wan's sort of thing. Obi-Wan could waltz, and never let on that he was dancing. Anakin could only plunge, as quickly and decisively as possible, and hope that they understood his approach. Why waste time? No one wanted to be in the midst of troubles longer than they had to be. In and out, hit the target and be gone.
Why, then, after the target had been well and truly reached, were they not letting him go? Anakin shifted in his seat. Males drifted past, patting his shoulder and grinning. At least he hoped it was grinning. It was rather hard to tell with the pincers, but he rather thought they were congratulating him on a job well done. After all, they seemed to be preparing a feast.
Force, he thought, and winced. Maybe that's it. Maybe they think Obi-Wan would taste better.
All at once, the music stopped, every male in the room returning to his place. They waited in silence, eye-stalks twitching as females walked slowly into the room. No, not walked. Swayed. As different as they looked, Anakin could not deny their grace. Beneath the shimmering gauze that wrapped their bodies, their hips rolled in time with the movement of their arms. They danced through the quiet between heavily-laden tables, each of them coming to kneel before one of the men. There was something subservient in the posture, head down. And yet when they brushed those pincers over their masters thighs, the resulting shudder left Anakin wondering just who was in control.
Frowning, he looked away from the Dhansak on his right. There he was: Obi-Wan, at the foot of the red carpet that spilled out of the great hall. His outfit was different, black gauze instead of red, but exposing no less flesh. Glitter sparkled in his hair, about his eyes... Anakin blinked. The beard. The beard was gone, revealing a glossed mouth, as red as the Dhansak's pincers.
Anakin stiffened. Gods, yes. Obi-Wan could still dance. Even off the negotiation floor, that skill had not left him. With a grace born of years on the battlefield, he closed the distance between them, his forehead slowly lowering to Anakin's own knee.
Breath hitched in Anakin's chest. He had no doubt who was in control now.
And when Obi-Wan looked up, eyes full of laughter beneath all the glitter, it was clear he knew it, too. Perhaps he had known it would end this way. Ah, from the smirk that played on his mouth as he pulled open Anakin's leggings, it was rather clear he had.
"I know what I've said. But look at them. No meat on their bones and, yesterday, no hope in their eyes. They are starving."
A sigh. "This won't feed them very long."
"But it is something."
Anakin nodded, gazing at Obi-Wan's soot-streaked face as he dropped the last of the small candies clutched in his fist into the stockings hung to dry by a hearth that had burnt out long ago. "Still, Master--it's going to be a real bitch getting your ass back up that chimney."