Work Text:
Obi-Wan recognizes the signs of heat as soon as they start. Though they’d happened only once before in his life, they were hard to forget. That was the day his world took a turn and the latent gene that had once helped ensure humanity’s continued existence switched on and he found himself longing to curl up in his master’s lap. He had thought puberty had been bad. By the time Obi-Wan came to Qui-Gon, he was too far gone into his heat for the suppressant medications to work and had to suffer through the fever of his skin, the arousal that flooded through his veins, the bone deep ache for something he couldn’t place.
He’d vowed that he wouldn’t be caught unawares again, and began keeping two sets of medications on his belt so he could hide one in whatever quarters they were given or, if the mission called for mobility, in whatever transport they were assigned.
Of course, when you’ve been abducted and lost your utility belt and had your transport blow up, that puts you in a rather tight spot, even after the rescue comes.
Which is why Obi-Wan is currently Force locked inside sparse quarters on the Resolute, trying and failing to meditate. The problem isn’t him. Or it isn’t only him. It’s the presence of his former padawan standing outside the door, as he has been for the last hour. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s frustration, his agitation and beneath it, a simmering arousal.
A handful of years prior to his Knighting, Anakin had come to Obi-Wan complaining that he didn’t feel well, but it was nothing more than a slight fever and general malaise, so Obi-Wan sent him off to classes. It wasn’t until Obi-Wan arrived at the healers to collect Anakin after he’d gotten into a brawl with another padawan that the problem was revealed. Anakin had presented as an alpha. A more common occurrence than Obi-Wan’s own presentation, though still relatively rare.
Obi-Wan became extra vigilant about his suppressants.
He managed to keep his secret from Anakin for five years.
Anakin had just walked into the war room when Obi-Wan felt the faint tingling deep in his belly, the tightening of his skin. He finished his report with Admiral Yularen and attempted to slip from the room without alerting Anakin.
As he neared the door, Obi-Wan watched Anakin’s spine stiffen, pulling the man to his full height. His head turned so quickly Obi-Wan was sure it was going to wrench off his neck.
A wealth of emotions flooded Anakin’s eyes: disbelief, joy, anger, need, betrayal, want. The want Obi-Wan had been aware of for years. Once upon a time, he’d thought Senator Amidala would become the focus of Anakin’s attention, but his former padawan had made his attractions quite clear.
Obi-Wan tried to ignore them.
As Anakin turned toward him, Obi-Wan threw dignity aside and fled. But he knew Anakin would follow. He felt the hot pulse of possessiveness along the remains of their training bond, just as he rushed into his temporary quarters and engaged the locks on the door, shoring them up with a little help from the Force.
And now here he stands, or sits, rather. On the edge of the bed, arms looped around his waist, listening to Anakin prowl outside his door like a Hrosma tiger. Obi-Wan rests his face in his hands.
“Master.” Anakin stops pacing and takes a breath.
“No.” Obi-Wan’s voice is slightly muffled.
“Let me in.” Anakin holds his palms against the door. He can override it. If he needs to. But he’d rather Obi-Wan let him in. Still… He pulls the cover off the lock panel.
“I will not.” Clearer now. Obi-Wan’s moving closer to the door.
“Obi-Wan.”
“Anakin…this is not the kind of thing I want to share.”
“But it’s exactly the thing you need to share.” Anakin presses his face against the door. Oh. Anakin can smell him: familiar soap, black tea and spiced honey, and a warm musk that makes Anakin’s throat tighten. “Obi-Wan…I can help.”
Obi-Wan makes a half-sputtered choking noise that resembles a laugh. “The last thing I need is…help.”
“I’m sure you’ve done this alone, Obi-Wan. You know you can. But you don’t have to. Look…how perfect is it that the two of us were brought together? How completely unlikely it is for an alpha and an omega to meet, let alone know each other as well as we do?”
“Anakin, you didn’t even know I had a designation until now.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re rare, Obi-Wan. And you, you’re even rarer. I can’t help but think—No. I know the Force brought us together.”
“The Force or Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan mutters.
“Force.” Anakin lets his head fall against the door with a soft thud. “Do I need to tell you how good you smell to me? How much I want to touch you, taste you? Feel you over me, under me, all around me. Obi-Wan?”
There’s a muffled sound behind the door, half sigh.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. Then, “Please. Please let me in. I won’t… You know how I feel. I know you know. I’m not exactly subtle. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I think… I think you want me too. And I wish—” He sighs. “I wish you’d just let yourself have something you want. And put us both out of our karking misery.” Anakin laughs shakily. “If you’re in heat and I’m in a rut, who’s going to be lead the charge against Ventress?”
The silence is heavy, expectant. Then Anakin hears the lock disengage.
Obi-Wan stands in front of the door, barely realizing he’s moved. He can feel Anakin on the other side. Can smell him. Warm spice and the faintest hint of mech oil. Obi-Wan could bury his face in that scent. Press his mouth against Anakin’s throat, run his tongue along his clavicle, bare his own throat for Anakin—
Obi-Wan shivers.
“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s voice is a low rumble and Obi-Wan’s belly clenches, warmth spreading down between his thighs, making his cock twitch. He feels himself grow slick, the sensation still strange but not nearly as unpleasant now that Obi-Wan may actually have a use for it.
“Please…” Anakin says.
And moments later, Anakin’s words – they couldn’t both afford to be compromised and Obi-Wan did want – had him disengaging the lock and opening the door.
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin says, voice rough with surprise, with arousal.
“You’re right,” Obi-Wan says, voice steady over his shuddering breath. He can’t quite meet Anakin’s eyes, looks somewhere in the vicinity of his left ear. “I—“ He cuts himself off, frowns.
Then Anakin’s there, slipping into his personal space as easily as he always has, closing the door behind him. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain. Just…tell me this is okay.” Anakin’s hands cup the back of Obi-Wan’s head, fingers tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair and tilting his head back. Anakin’s eyes are on his mouth.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, watching the way Anakin’s eyes light up and then grow dark as he leans forward and kisses Obi-Wan soundly.
The kiss is the opening of a floodgate and Obi-Wan loses track of time and action. The next moment, he’s on his borrowed bed, with Anakin lying before him, shirtless, still in his boots with his trousers pushed partway down his hips to reveal a thick erection.
“I need to fuck you,” Anakin rasps.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. It’s the only word he can seem to say right now.
Anakin pulls Obi-Wan astride him, tugging off his tunic, pulling his trousers down and arranging him as if he were little more than a living doll. He draws long fingers over his hip and along his ass, one finger sliding into the crevice and over his slick opening, then slowly inside.
“Oh Force,” the words are barely a whisper, “you’re so ready for me,” Anakin says.
Those words send a pulse of heat through Obi-Wan even as Anakin gathers him close, grips his hips and steadily pushes into him until Obi-Wan’s firmly seated on his lap staring down at Anakin in surprise. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected to be rolled onto his belly as Anakin buried his teeth in the back of his neck.
“Later,” Anakin groans, shifting and setting a pace that oh so quickly drives them toward climax.
Obi-Wan’s eyes widen as Anakin presses deeper into him, swelling until all Obi-Wan can focus on is the fullness of his body, the rhythmic pulses of Anakin coming deep inside him and the rush of orgasm both the thought and feeling triggers. Obi-Wan’s muscles clamp down around Anakin, a mating drive from long ago, pushing his body to do what it…actually isn’t designed for anymore.
He doesn’t even need to touch himself. The orgasm tears through him, leaving him breathless, grasping at Anakin’s slick shoulders. And the mess he leaves across Anakin’s belly and chest is enough to make Anakin groan and grip his hips as he releases inside Obi-Wan once again.
“I never…” Anakin coughs. “I never imagined what this could feel like.” He eyes Obi-Wan. “Come here.”
Obi-Wan allows himself be pulled close, head bent to rest against Anakin’s clavicle. He relaxes under the soothing strokes to his back, his hair, his temple.
Anakin will stay locked inside him for some time. Upwards of half an hour, even. Or, that’s what the articles say. It’s the strangest feeling for Obi-Wan to lie there, on top of his former padawan, and to feel the sudden pulse and blossom of warmth between his legs, the wetness seeping out around where he and Anakin are joined when he’s too full to handle anymore.
By the time Anakin is able to slip out of him, Obi-Wan is aroused again. Not the desperate drive to mate of earlier, but his normal, very human arousal.
Anakin looks Obi-Wan in the eye and grins before pushing him onto his back and settling between his thighs, draping Obi-Wan’s legs over his shoulders and taking his cock into his mouth before Obi-Wan can register the idea.
Anakin’s mouth is hot and lush and just the right amount of tight around the sensitive tip and it feels like mere moments before he’s coming again, tangling his fingers in Anakin’s hair as his back bows and the world around him vanishes.
Moments later, he feels a gentle kiss against his hip and then Anakin is sliding up next to him, pulling him into his arms. For a moment everything is safe and warm and right. And that’s all he needs for his tired body to give in to the exhaustion that’s been pulling at him since well before he was rescued.
When Obi-Wan wakes again, minutes or hours later, the heat is burning through his belly. This time, Anakin, waking mere moments after Obi-Wan opens his eyes, puts him on his belly, pushes his legs together and fucks him slow and deep until Obi-Wan comes, pressed tight to the mattress and shuddering as his own semen soaks the sheets around him.
That feeling feeds through to Anakin who groans, bites Obi-Wan’s neck and comes, pushing so deep into Obi-Wan that he can’t help the screaming sob that comes out of his throat as Anakin swells inside him.
“If you could become pregnant,” Anakin says in Obi-Wan’s ear “I think this is the one that would’ve done it.” And it’s such an Anakin thing to say that Obi-Wan lets his head fall the mattress in a useless attempt to hide his laughter
“O-Obi-Wan,” Anakin says and thrusts hard enough to make Obi-Wan gasp and quiet as he feels Anakin twitch hard and himself grow wetter. “I don’t think now’s the time to laugh at me. You’re going to be enough of a mess as it is. You were still so slick and open from earlier,” he finishes, warm breath teasing across Obi-Wan’s ear.
“Force,” Obi-Wan mutters, or tires to mutter. It comes out as more of a croak.
“How long do you think the heat will last?” Anakin lays his temple against the back of Obi-Wan’s head.
“Ah. Literature gives a range, but a standard day or so seems…probable.”
“Meaning you don’t know?”
“…No.”
Anakin snickers against his hair, warm breath making Obi-Wan’s scalp tingle. “That’s fine. I want you to myself for at least two more days.”
Obi-Wan hums and tries to shift his legs to a more comfortable angle, the weight of Anakin and Anakin’s trousers, amazingly, still down around his knees making it physically impossible. “At least that will give us time to get you out of the rest of your clothes.”
