Ani/Obi Advent Calendar - Dec 01 - Jan 01 - HURRAH! Fandom: Star Wars Title: Ani & Obi Advent Calendar Dec 01 - Jan 01 (32 icons, 6182 words, and 1 wallpaper ) Author:jarkai_fic on LJ / jarkai everywhere else Beta:legolad Rating: Rated R for porn! 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."
DEC 15 - DINNER Obi-Wan stood in the kitchen he shared with Anakin. The Order hadn't bothered to give them separate apartments yet. Secretly, Obi-Wan was glad.
"Anakin! Set the table!" He shouted, then smiled to himself. The shouting, of course, was rather natural, but not the grin. Still, he could not help it. His partner--not his Padawan anymore--was sure to like the meal he'd whipped up. It was a true feast perfect for Winter Fete, all of Anakin's favorite dishes prepared for this time of year.
"Can't! I'm in the middle of something!"
"What do you mean can't?" The shout became a grumble, which was highly typical, too. "What in the world could you need to do? I've just made..."
Obi-Wan rounded the corner, more than ready to squawk about what Anakin had gotten up to.
Naked as the day he was born, Anakin lay upon their table, his legs akimbo. "Look," he smirked, gesturing to the strategically placed bow. "I made dinner, too!"
DEC 16 - YULE LOG The log in the fireplace snapped, sending sparks swirling high. All around them couples wrapped their arms around one another, huddled together for warmth.
Idly the older Jedi caressed the fur carpet upon which they lay. Soft and long, the pelt was the exact same color as the snow falling in heavy pats outside.
Anakin shifted in his sleep, a soft moan on his lips. He must be having a good dream, Obi-Wan mused. It seemed to be true. In his sleep, the young man smiled, and curled deeper into the blanket warmed between the two of them.
Obi-Wan brushed a curl from Anakin's forehead, and snuggled closer to his partner. He was right, Obi-Wan thought. We needed this.
Anakin's smiled widened. Even in slumber, he reached for his love.
DEC 17 - COOKIES "Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "Come frost these treats! You're the one that wanted the bloody things."
Variously shaped cookies littered the counter of the apartment they shared, each a small star or evergreen common to Winter Fete. A large bowl of fluffy white icing sat in the middle. Anakin glanced at it, then at Obi-Wan, trying to suppress his laughter. The older man's eyes narrowed.
Anakin put up his hands in a sign of peace. "You have frosting," he said, pointing, "just there."
Anakin leaned in close, softly kissing Obi-Wan's neck, and licked the offending cream from his Master's beard.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan nearly groaned. The frown evaporated. Unseen, his finger dipped into the bowl.
"Yes, Master?" He didn't stop nibbling Obi-Wan's bearded cheek.
"You've got some here." Obi-Wan smeared a glob on Anakin's adam's apple, then lower, spreading it down his lover's bare chest. A smirk played across Obi-Wan's lips.
Anakin's eyebrows rose.
"And some here." Obi-Wan dotted each nipple with white. "And let's not forget there, as well."
Heavy, a daub of white hung from the tawny curls that poked from the top of Anakin's low-slung sleep pants. Anakin stared down at it, breathing fast.
Obi-Wan sucked his fingers clean. "Mmmm. It seems I'm in the mood for cookies after all."
DEC 18 - EVERGREEN Skywalker and Kenobi watched from the edge of the rather large courtyard. In the center stood a giant evergreen tree, its needles decorated with twinkling lights and silvery baubles. Female dancers circled the tree, clad only in the sheerest of veils. Their skin glistened, sparkling from the dust they had brushed off the tree.
All around the tree, couples swayed to the music, their movements mimicking the dancers on display. Every sort of couple imaginable was present. None were ashamed, and indeed they all danced and writhed, happy on this joyous occasion.
"I didn't think it would be quite so..." Obi-Wan's brow furrowed.
"Sexual?" Anakin finished for him.
Obi-Wan could only nod. To his right, a pair of men ground against each other, bliss written on their faces. A blush rose to his cheeks, thankfully hidden by his beard.
Someone touched Anakin's shoulder. "Care to dance?" an unfamiliar voice asked, and both Jedi turned to see an older gentleman smile at Anakin.
Before he could even answer, Obi-Wan replied, "Actually, we were just about to ourselves."
Anakin smiled but said nothing. The other gentleman bowed in their direction, thanking the Jedi silently.
"Well, are we going to dance or not?" Anakin laughed a moment later, smirking.
Obi-Wan tipped his head toward the nearby men, his voice dropping an octave. "If you can move your hips that way."
Anakin pulled the other man close, pressing their bodies against each other. He whispered into his Master's ear, "Why don't you come and find out?"
DEC 19 - GLOVES Anakin always tried to turn away from him when he removed his glove. Even after they became lovers, he could never meet Obi-Wan's gaze when he did so, as if his robotic hand was a secret and shameful thing. Yet Obi-Wan would not permit it. Obi-Wan would never ask for this to change. Demanding was not in him. Even so, over and over he angled his body so he could see, whether Anakin liked it or not, heat creeping over his flesh at the merest sight of those metallic fingers.
They had never been distasteful. They had never been a thing he must accept if he wanted the young man who bore them. For Obi-Wan, from the first instant they had been the stuff of fantasies, forged of no lesser materials than Anakin's skin and bone. As with all things Skywalker, they were slightly taboo, thrilling, and impossible to ignore.
Watching those digits, Obi-Wan could not help but smile. Everything about Anakin was gold.
DEC 20 - PRESENT "Obi-Wan, you didn't have to!" Though he was trying to hide it, Anakin nearly squealed with delight. He took the brightly wrapped package and gave it a shake. Nothing rattled, nothing moved.
"Just open it, Padawan." The older man laughed at the younger one's glee.
"Not your Padawan anymore," Anakin mumbled, more from reflex than true ire. He couldn't wait one more moment. He tore the ribbon off and tossed the top of the box aside. Then, as he shoved the tissue paper out of the way, his face fell, going first white then red.
"Well, take it out," Obi-Wan urged.
An instant later, a pair of gold lamé thong underwear flew at Master Kenobi's head.
DEC 21 - STOCKING Anakin wasn't sure he understood this culture's Winter Fete custom.
On Tatooine, little children put out their shoes on Fete Eve, and in the morning those shoes would be filled with whatever treats and toys their parents could afford. By the time he was nine, he had thought that tradition was just a little dumb. Who would want to eat treats that came out of dusty old shoes? At least this planet used stockings to hold the gifts instead.
Still, he wasn't sure this was what was meant by stockings. Either way, he supposed it didn't really matter.
Peering at himself in the full length mirror, Anakin ran his hand over the rough texture covering his thighs. Obi-Wan was right. He really did look good in fishnets.
DEC 23 - SNOW Snow floated down in silence, the flakes fat and heavy. Nothing in the forest moved, the birds having flown off long ago.
A ball of the cold stuff whizzed by Obi-Wan's face. Too close for comfort. One snowball flew by his left shoulder, and another. He ducked behind a tree. "Ha! You missed me!"
"Chicken! Cluck, cluck! This was your idea!" Anakin called out, and bent to grab another handful.
From around the tree, Obi-Wan launched one at Anakin, hitting him square on his left butt-cheek. It knocked him face first into a drift, and Anakin came up sputtering.
"You cheated!" he gasped, slush dripping into his tunic.
Obi-Wan couldn't respond. His body twitched with suppressed laughter.
Anakin's eyes narrowed. At a flick of his wrist, the snow above Obi-Wan's head dropped from the tree branches with a whoosh. Instantly, white clung to Obi-Wan's beard, making him look like the jolly man from the night before.
DEC 24 - WARM Obi-Wan's hand flew to his mouth, barely stifling a yelp. Briefly, his eyes grew wide, then returned to their normal shape and size, his expression settling back into the look of expectant helpfulness he had worn only a moment before.
Slowly lowering his fingers, he dipped his head in apology. "Forgive me, Chancellor. I have been up two days straight, and even for a Jedi a yawn is unavoidable. It is no critique of your discourse. Hmmm? What is that? Yes, yes, of course, sir. I shall certainly try to get more rest. Very well, then. A good day to you, too."
He kept the smile fixed in place a heartbeat longer. The instant the hologram of Palpatine faded, he dropped it at once, spinning toward the man that had come up behind him.
"Anakin! You bastard! Do you any have idea how cold your hand was?"
An entirely different sort of smile spread across Anakin's face, one far more predatory than Obi-Wan's had been, and far more genuine. "Yes, yes, of course, sir. Why do you think I put it somewhere so warm?"
DEC 25 - NIGHT Beneath them, the city lights pooled and stretched like a jeweled necklace, bright against the velvet dress of the night sky. All of it--it should have reminded Anakin of Padmé, and yet she was only a flicker in his mind's eye, the image of her there one instant and gone the next. Guilt over how quickly she had disappeared from his thoughts lasted somewhat longer, ending the exact moment he slid into Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan moaned and flung back his head, his lips swollen from being kissed. His one hand clenched and unclenched against the ground, knotting around the arm of a tunic so carelessly shed. Glitter sparkled there, between his fingers, fresh from the branches of city square's evergreen tree. Sparkles dotted his beard as well, formed a path from chin to groin. Panting, Anakin lifted one of his Master's legs higher, the better to see the path's destination, the place where flesh thrust into flesh, the wetness there gleaming in a way no star could.
"Gods..." His one hand still anchored in their clothing as if he feared floating away, Obi-Wan took hold of himself with the other, his fist pumping in time with the rocking of Anakin's hips. "Gods, how you..."
Anakin sucked in air between his teeth, moving faster.
Wild and free, Obi-Wan's laughter resounded through the night, rising up from the hill upon which they lay. "Gods, how you dance!"
At the words, Obi-Wan's body tightened, tugging on Anakin like a hungry mouth, and Anakin knew his Master was not speaking of their time beneath the evergreen. With a shudder and a groan, a dozen pearls mingled with the glitter that covered his lover's body.
Anakin closed his eyes. He could not keep them open any more, as much as he wanted to see.
No, the night was not for Padmé. He would never see it that way again.
From this moment onward, every star belonged to Obi-Wan.
"What's good for the Padawan isn't good enough for the Master?"
"I feel ridiculous!"
"You don't look ridiculous." Grinning, Anakin's mouth began its slow ascent from knee to thigh. He paused every so often, taking the time to draw circles in ginger leg hair with his tongue. In the candlelight, his spittle shimmered on his Master's skin, just as bright as the fabric Obi-Wan wore.
Obi-Wan swallowed. "I take it back. They're very tight now."
Anakin purred. Without a word, he dragged himself higher, pressing parted lips to the growing spot of wetness that marked the gold lame. Obi-Wan twitched in response, straining against the throng. When Anakin eased the underwear down a moment later, his Master's hips were already arching upward too, eagerness clear on Obi-Wan face, in the sudden handhold in his former student's hair.
But no. This was Anakin's gift. Smile never wavering, he reached with the Force for the lubricant waiting on the bedside table. In a moment, Obi-Wan's cock shone like the fabric that trapped his knees.
"What are you--" Obi-Wan broke off, unable to finish. He could only groan as Anakin spread and slid down around him. Briefly Anakin gripped Obi-Wan's shoulders, holding himself still, waiting for the pain to pass. He should not have taken him in so fast, but tomorrow's lingering soreness would be worth the look currently on his Master's face. It was already worth the heat between his legs, the stretch.
"Is it too tight now?" Anakin breathed, and began to move at last.
Unable to speak, his eyes screwed shut, Obi-Wan reached blindly for Anakin and thrust.
DEC 27 - ELF It wasn't supposed to have happened this way. Anakin was supposed to be the imp, the seducer, the one proving that he had indeed been a very bad boy all year and had no plans to change his ways. Yet here he was, the one seated in the great chair, a red cap askew on his head and Obi-Wan astride his lap, bouncing up and down.
"Do me, Santa--do me, Santa--do me, Santa--"
Well. At least Obi-Wan was enjoying his trip to the North Pole.
DEC 28 - GARLAND They made it nearly half-way through dinner before Anakin decided he could not take it an instant longer. He flicked his fingers, and the Force tore Obi-Wan's apron away, baring the flesh beneath. And, ah, there was nothing but flesh: broad shoulders, a lightly-furred chest, thighs instantly on the move.
Laughing, Obi-Wan sprang from his chair. He ran, or tried to, but with another wave of Anakin's hands the garland was a green snake towering in his path. It was a rope a heartbeat later, wrapping itself around Obi-Wan's wrist and tugging him back toward the table. He landed with a thud, scattering silverware. He flailed briefly, still laughing, and a centerpiece of holly hit the floor.
Then, all at once, Obi-Wan was still. He eyes grew narrow, cat-like, infinitely pleased.
Anakin smiled in return. He pushed back his own chair, rose, and rounded the table to stand at Obi-Wan's side. There was no need for the Force now. In times like these, a hands-on approach was essential.
Purposely, grinning, Obi-Wan spread his legs and writhed.
They did. With a bang, cheap red and green foil gave. Silver and gold confetti flew. Neither Jedi had eyes for all that, as pretty as it was. Nor, when they bent, did their hands linger overly much on the two paper crowns the now broken cracker had contained. Still, Anakin did pop one his head before he began to look over the tiny toys now scattered across the floor.
"Condoms," he mused, "flavored and otherwise. Packs of lubricant. A..."
Anakin trailed off, holding a ring of studded leather up to the light. It was far too small to be a collar. Too tiny to be good for anything, really, in Obi-Wan's opinion.
"What is that?" the older man asked, frowning.
"It, ah, helps you last."
Anakin raised an eyebrow, silent.
"Oh. Oh!" Obi-Wan's face flushed with heat. "And exactly who left this mystery gift?"
"Well, there is a note..." Anakin scooped up the pale strip of paper among the debris.
"What does it say?"
"Er, it isn't a note. It's a fortune."
"Oh, this should be rich. Go ahead."
Suppressing laughter, Anakin cleared his throat. "This year, I predict at least one of you is going to get lucky. Signed, Q."
Obi-Wan's frown twitched. Somehow, he suspected Qui-Gon hadn't come back from the dead to play matchmaker.
DEC 30 - BUBBLY "Oh," Obi-Wan managed, trying to rise and landing right back on the sofa instead, his limbs loose and sprawled at odd angles. "I believe it's gone right to my head."
"Heh. Mine, too."
"Must you always be so crude?"
"You like it. You wish you could be as direct as I am." Anakin plucked the narrow-stemmed crystal from Obi-Wan's slack fingers. Then, setting the champagne glass aside, he took a step back and began to unfasten his leggings.
Obi-Wan's eyes became half-lidded, and not from the alcohol. "Well. That's certainly direct."
Anakin smirked. His tunic followed the path of his leggings, flung to the other side of the room. "I'm going to take advantage of you now."
"You can't take advantage of the willing."
"Ho, ho, ho! You are full of liquid courage, aren't you?"
"Liquid something, anyway." Obi-Wan crooked a finger. "Why not come here and have a drink?"
Anakin dropped to his knees, laughing. "Must you always be so crude?"
"Ah," Obi-Wan sighed as he felt that wide, warm mouth close around one of his fingers. "I have had a wonderful teacher."
Anakin pressed a hand to his Master's forehead. "You don't have a fever. You don't have the sniffles or a red nose. You do, however, look a little green."
"The flu, then," Obi-Wan muttered and jerked away. He huddled beneath the blanket tucked about his shoulders, every bone aching. Yet those myriad tiny pains were nothing compared to the throbbing of his head.
"Do you want a bucket?"
"What I want," Obi-Wan growled, "is to be left alone."
Anakin pouted. "That's not what you said last night."
"I was drunk."
The pout became a blazing grin of triumph. "A ha! My point exactly!"
"Ngn, Force, not so loud--"
"You need to stop drinking, love," Anakin said, his voice a touch softer, but only a touch.
Obi-Wan's smile was weak, wobbly. "How else would I ever manage to be crude?"
Slowly that grin faded. Anakin knelt, bringing his head level with Obi-Wan's. "I don't need crude. I mean, it's fun once in a while, but... What I need is holly on the table and silken ribbons. I need you flustered. I need you trying to dance, then finally discovering the music was in you all along. What I need is you."
"I..." Obi-Wan swallowed. Perhaps it was a cold after all, for suddenly his throat hurt, too, tight and sore.
"Happy New Year," Anakin whispered and settled his head on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It will be a good one."
Obi-Wan let the blanket fall, wrapping his arms around Anakin. Somehow, he was sure Anakin's prediction would come true.