Work Text:
Anakin pulls over in front of his ex’s house with a plan and his cigarette halfway through the paper. It’s only a slow mile away from the apartment, but storming off in his slides seemed less flashy than searing donuts into Obi-Wan’s front lawn with the Subaru. Never mind that his ex got him this car on Christmas, or that he still footed the insurance, or that his no limit credit card is still sitting in the change compartment.
“Call it social reconstruction, redistributing the wealth."
It was as if Obi-Wan hadn't known he wasn't a big-shot millionaire and not some slimy 2nd gen trust-fund baby.
And when when Anakin had told him such, he had argued that the idea had its merits, yada yada, working himself dry wouldn’t dent the financial sinkhole of an art major anyways.
Prick.
Sure, walking into the old Home Depot shifts with quaking thighs and an inability to sit flat made his forklift technique a bit wobbly. And yes, he may have dropped the winning combination of cleaning solution to mix chlorine gas the day before the holiday sale leading to a complete store evacuation. But that’s just how the cookie happened to crumble. His two week submission had then been mysteriously shortened down to one day so Obi-Wan had stuffed his card into Anakin’s pocket on the drive home and well, that was that.
Standing at the door right now, Anakin considers that maybe this plan could kick him back in his little twink balls. Perhaps he could settle for leaving a gift basket of knotting dildos tomorrow, but then Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to see what great shape Anakin’s in.
Never mind that his ex got back into town two days ago, or that he just so happens to be near his scheduled rut.
So yeah, Anakin might be an asshole.
They dated for three years okay, three years of shiny card bliss before it all went to shit. Anakin had known something was up when Obi-Wan refused to bite him back the same night Anakin marked him first (it was an accident but again, three whole fucking years.)
Things weren't pieced together until the next morning when Hondo dropped off some homemade breadsticks, clucking scandalously over the latest Coruscant gossip. Something about a catnapper amongst the town council, Windu trying to stay paws-itive. Anakin had always found Hondo’s sunny tone rather enjoyable to listen to— up until the moment he’d asked for when Obi-Wan planned to leave for Hoth.
That day didn't end well for any of them, Hondo included.
Everyone and their dog in Coruscant knows he hates his ex. No one grows a beard out like that before their twenties or graduates with a vague science degree for any other reason than to be pretentious. As far as he’s concerned, this plan is just for kicks. He’d get Obi-Wan to flip out on him, maybe snap a photo if his face reached the same sleazy shade as his hair. No lasting harm done, scout’s honor.
And long due. So without a second thought, Anakin presses the butt of his cigarette into the doorbell.
“One moment,” a voice calls out.
Obi-Wan appears and then freezes between the door and the frame, white shirt rumpled and hair mussy like he just woke up. A year ago, Anakin would’ve nuzzled him in fond greeting. Instead his nose scrunches, disgusted at a wine stain on his sleeve. At least Anakin wore one of his particularly cleaner outfits today—the black zip up long sleeve from their first anniversary, which Obi-Wan also bought (the perk of dating a Charlie's Angels fan.)
Anakin watches his ex run a hand down his face. Obi-Wan pauses, peeks through his fingers, and removes them all slo-mo like he's just realizing that Anakin isn't some hallucination.
Anakin takes a long drag to blow smoke into Obi-Wan’s face, just in case he’s not there yet.
"Hey," Anakin grunts. Huh, sounds passable for someone who had his tonsils hosed down with come the other night. His cigarette’s been reduced down to the filter so he snuffs it out nonchalantly, breaking eye contact to pull another out when suddenly, he’s pulled into a hug.
And Obi-Wan is warm. Really, really warm, which is even nice but also easily distracting. It takes a lot to resist the urge to bury his face and lose himself in the familiarity. He opts to stare at the bite marks on Obi-Wan's neck instead, which is a bad idea because now he kinda wants to cry.
"You’re visiting me,” Obi-Wan murmurs, arms tightening around Anakin.
Right. It's a little too intimate for his purposes, so Anakin wriggles in the alpha's grasp until he lets go. He knows Obi-Wan can smell the disdain he's blasting into the air because he takes a careful step back as well, clearing his throat.
“It's good to see you, Anakin. It really is. I'm, well, quite indisposed at the moment."
It's hilarious to witness Obi-Wan's expression struggling to match his apologetic tone. Please, they both know that even if Anakin didn't have his rut schedule down, he'd have picked up on the stink by now.
His ex flattens his mouth when Anakin sweetly side steps and invites himself into the house. You need to talk to him after he's well adjusted. And for christ’s sake, in a public space, Padme hisses in his head. Sorry Padme. His ex left him the keys anyways, so the fact that Anakin knocked at all issued fair enough warning.
Inside the entrance, Anakin spots the gundam model he had begged Obi-Wan to buy him two Valentines ago. It's still sitting on the shelf between his row of oatmeal candles. He’d gotten one for himself, claiming that Anakin's robot would be lonely without a boyfriend, but he ended up using it as a paperweight.
Everything about the house, even the faint scent of bergamot, is as he remembers it. He'd be able to convince himself of stepping into a time machine if it weren’t for the new curtains. Oh, right. Anakin clawed the old ones down after Hondo left.
The fight wasn't even the worst of it. The break up had thrown him into a mental liminality—it felt like the Coruscant Airport lobbies when the gates were closed, or those pinterest boards of abandoned garages he's been obsessed with as of late.
Anakin had avoided Obi-Wan’s calls long after his flight to Hoth because he was still angry, and—well, extremely busy. He’d all but announced open season on himself after months of moping and spent every weekend on tinder in between bar hopping with strangers. Padme had to drag him out of a nightclub one morning after discovering he was forgoing his heat suppressants. His outings were toned down to healthy amount afterwards (or rather, he just never wanted to hear Hondo's bees and the bees talk ever again.)
The brilliant idea to drop by his ex’s house twisted together two days ago when news of Obi-Wan's arrival had reached his flatmate, Rex. They were sharing a bowl during their Love Island marathon when Rex had looked up from his phone, breaking the news with a roguish smile followed by, “You’re a masochist.”
“You don’t even know what I’m planning to do.”
“It hasn't even been a minute, and you're planning something already.”
When only met with silence, Rex had sighed dramatically and tucked his lighter away to cup Anakin’s hands in his.
“Alright—no don't interrupt me, listen. You haven’t been over him for a year. He’s coming back earlier than he was supposed to. You don’t know how he feels, and he doesn’t know how you feel. Just promise me you’ll mull over these three things.”
It was the most non-advice advice Rex had ever given him. Anakin chalked it up to smoking too much with Yoda.
He also thinks he could do with a bowl right now as he tears his glare down the curtains in disgust. Houndstooth? Really?
“These curtains are hideous,” he announces, flicking at the fabric.
“What." Obi-Wan's eyes narrow. "No, they're— nevermind. What are you doing here.”
His worn out tone makes Anakin pause, feeling like he’s running out of time as the guest of honor. Summoning the earlier bravery he had at the front door, he spins around, posturing his hands at his hips.
Alright, no more beating around the bush.
“Stopped by today when I heard you were back, thought it'd be necessary to have a sit-down with you. You know, bullet point list all the reasons you’re a scumbag.”
Obi-Wan's expression is schooled into neutrality but Anakin sees the hand flinch before the man moves it behind him. "Anakin, come back in a week. This really is the worst time."
"Because you're all about right timing," Anakin retorts childishly, making his way further into the house.
Obi-Wan paces behind him incredulously while maintaining his distance. "I know this conversation needs to happen as well as you do, but you can't possibly force it out of me when I'm about to enter a—a vulnerable state."
It's so tragic Anakin has to shake his head in mock pity. As if this inconvenience could amount to any portion of the pain he experienced this past year. He makes to check his nails in utter nonchalance.
"I don't need to play fair, that's not what you deserve.”
Obi-Wan’s brows furrow as he lowers his gaze quietly. “It’s what you deserve. You deserve an explanation, and I want to give one to you.”
Which, well, sounds reasonable enough, but Anakin doesn't want to be reasoned with, doesn't want to fall back into sitting through another lecture because frankly, the familiarity would kill him.
"Explain what? That you didn't even think twice?" Anakin grits out. "Or that you didn’t tell me first?"
Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, almost like he's bracing himself.
"Didn't give me a choice...and you didn’t stay."
There's a small noise pulled out of Obi-Wan as he meets Anakin's gaze. It's so full of sorrow that Anakin has to look away. A few beats pass and then—a sudden intake of breath, a telling sign that Obi-Wan has made up his mind.
But suddenly, Anakin is terrified. He has a plan he can't waver in. And he doesn't want to lose the rage that got him out of bed most mornings, made him feel like a living person when he really wasn't. He deserves this.
Before Obi-Wan gets the chance, Anakin snaps, “No.”
"No," he repeats, stronger, taking a step towards his ex. Anakin shoves into his pocket, finally, thumbing his promise ring. The metal is cold to the touch, when it never used to be. Rings are, well, meant to be worn.
"You don't get to make me a fool, come back here, and say another word about how I'm in the wrong."
Anakin’s scent spikes in vexation, the room feeling both like it’s closing in and thinning out at the same time. It must be why his throat feels suppressed as he says, "God dammit Obi-Wan. You don't get to—to make me feel like this. Not anymore."
He places the ring onto the table. It's strange how he's able to experience a new hurt over something he knew was coming. His whole chest twinges with the toll of it. Across from him, Obi-Wan is shocked still, face running through different strokes of ire, repentance, misery.
It does more to Anakin than he wants to admit. Fuck. So much for getting that kick.
He knows his ex wouldn't judge him for crying but he turns around anyway, if anything, to keep the promise ring out of sight.
Anakin has thought a lot about what sort of person he’s changed into while dating Obi-Wan. Things were simple enough before they met, but he never would have imagined himself with a mate after being kicked from foster home to foster home until he was of age to leave the system.
The realization that he had wanted to nest with this man hadn’t been rooted in logic, hormones, or even emotion. When experience told him otherwise, he chose Obi-Wan because he was ready to give himself to someone wholly out of trust.
Now, Anakin can't even look at his ex. He can't slip the promise ring back onto his finger. The man standing across from him is not his mate.
This is all I have left...conviction, Anakin thinks. Against every quickened heartbeat he’s shared with Obi-Wan, every butterfly he’s felt waking up in his arms, his voice doesn’t waver when he says, "This is it, Obi-Wan. We're done."
Anakin makes it his mission to reach the car before the tears start to fall, but before he can take another step, there’s an iron grip over his wrist.
"We are not done."
The last thing Anakin sees before he’s unceremoniously yanked backwards is the dark glint in the alpha's eyes. Anakin yelps, indignant, as his frame hits the other's chest.
Obi-Wan kisses Anakin like he's catching prey— the muscles in his jaw locked, his grip too tight and raw with possession. His mouth sears through him like a brand pressed deep enough to boil skin. Anakin beats his fists against Obi-Wan’s chest but it’s futile effort. His nails just dig deeper into Anakin’s bicep.
Obi-Wan is slightly smaller than him, but not weaker by any means— his fieldwork with arctic animals ensures that will never be a possibility, not when he wrestles with young polar bears and catches penguins catapulting through the air to escape being tagged by his research team.
Anakin knows this, and still beats at his chest in frustration and tears. He pushes again and again until the strength in his body pathetically loses out. His will away with it.
Anakin tugs Obi-Wan closer, wrapping his elbows around the other’s neck. He can’t tell whose canines break flesh first because blood seeps into both of their mouths. Obi-Wan licks at his gums greedily with a muffled groan, sucking in when Anakin tries to push his tongue in. No room for words, no break for air, he kisses with so much force it renders Anakin lightheaded.
He briefly registers in the back of his mind that they're kissing with more vigor than two ex's should be capable of but it all gets lost in...the heat of Obi-Wan's body. He's burning hot.
"You're-" Anakin starts, getting muffled by Obi-Wan darting forward again. This time, Anakin tastes his own ash in Obi-Wan’s mouth. It's smoky, encasing, and all together too momentary. He hasn't had enough time to trap its flavor before Obi-Wan pulls away, leaning his forehead against Anakin's own.
They stand there for a couple moments, panting feverishly to catch their breaths. It’s the lack of oxygen that makes him forget he was about to turn heel and leave, yup. He's frantically trying to think of any excuse to stay until Obi-Wan grabs his hand and looks at him evenly. His grip is firm but loose enough to pull away from, and warm like everything else Anakin remembers about Obi-Wan.
His ex gives him a way out, and Anakin will not take it. He lets himself be led up the stairs to Obi-Wan's room.
—
His ex's scent no doubt permeated strongest here. He inhales and immediately feels better.
It's stupidly ironic, he thinks, that his inner omega recognizes Obi-Wan as his alpha still.
There’s little movement between them until Anakin moves first, grabbing the other's hands to lift them towards his jaw again. It relaxes some tension when Obi-Wan’s fingers gather him up and knead around the curve of his jaw, then the base of his skull.
"What do you want Anakin?" His voice is rid of the irritation from before, blanketed by something more weighted and warm.
It’s all the push needed for Anakin to drop to his knees before he can reconsider, and he pleads to Obi-Wan underneath his lashes.
"Be cruel.”
—
The swell in front of him is barely apparent, but it's only deceived him once before they dated. Anakin remembers their first Valentines together when they played footsie under the table like a pair of high schoolers. He'd slipped his foot in between Obi-Wan’s thighs, gasping when his foot made contact with his crotch, toe to heel just barely covering the whole thing. Shit, he literally scrambled under the table, had to take it out to see, and then to test out how much of the shaft he could gargle in one attempt.
He makes quick work of the belt buckle, dragging his fly down in practiced movement. What's left of his restraint holds him back from whining when he pulls his ex's cock out, and then he does whine as it twitches in his grasp. Anakin wastes no time diving down to mouth at his balls messily. He sucks at the skin with his eyes closed, thumbing into the slit as the alpha pants above him.
Obi-Wan's cock is still soft but that's okay, Anakin had always preferred the feeling of it growing in his mouth. Made him feel like he was being rewarded. Keeping his mouth busy, Anakin reaches behind him to gather the slick that's leaked out. Uses it to really wet the shaft of Obi-Wan's cock, pumping him rhythmically as he moves up to tongue under the head.
“Thaaaaat’s it Anakin, dirty fucking girl."
Obi-Wan thrusts forward slightly, causing Anakin to choke on his own slick. "Get it nice and wet.” Anakin's face grows hot as he sputters, trying to regain his breath.
"You showed up at my door a fucking mess because you’re starved for cock,” Obi-Wan continues, “thought your pathetic little excuse would get past me?"
When Obi-Wan grabs his jaw and says suck, Anakin deftly gets on with it. To be fair, with his grip so commanding and a gaze like that, Obi-Wan could've asked for anything and Anakin would have given it up. It was honestly concerning how Obi-Wan looked like he came straight out of a dirty wet dream.
Anakin gets back on task wrapping his lips around the head in tight suction. He starts with a steady rhythm, bobbing down more of the length with each bead of precome forming. Feverishly drinking in as much as he can, reveling in how he can taste the salt at the back of his throat as much as he feels its drying coolness on his chin. Obi-Wan's cock chubs up so much, he has to slow down for a bit and let his throat reaccustom to its girth. It gets him so horny that he can't take this much on his own even now, that Obi-Wan can still gag him from just the tip.
It stings when Obi-Wan scratches into his scalp, anchoring in a fistful of his bangs. His mouth is pulled off mid-suction with a loud plop.
“With all the practice you've gotten, who knew you'd be so useless at this."
Anakin keens. He knows what their shared group of friends have told Obi-Wan, knows that Obi-Wan’s aware of what they haven’t told him. That he hangs around the dorms or the Cantina to meet others his age—dancing vapidly to thumping music at college parties, drunkenly touching the frat boys until he’s behind a bathroom door, shoved down to his knees on tiled floors.
His bangs falling over his vision makes it hard to see Obi-Wan. Anakin regrets not tying his hair back like Lucy Liu this morning, left it a mess as it was last night—courtesy of Clovis.
Clovis was a top-tier douchebag but he had an iron grip and a propensity for abnormal sex positions. Which, truth be told, made things fun but also made Anakin feel like he was being knocked up by a frog.
Even before they started hooking up, Clovis was awful company in his gen ed classes, loved to start shit to piss him off. The banter took a special amount of patience Anakin didn’t have later on, so he’d either end it with his fists or on his knees like yesterday, lapping at Clovis’ calloused fingers like he was born to take dick. Sure it was a cheap move, but it never failed to shut him up for good. Though things might have been too rushed last night because he ripped up Anakin’s good lace panties before virtuously stuffing his cock right in. Clovis always liked to lean back and watch Anakin’s torso knock into the kitchen table with each thrust, grunting How can your cunt be so fucking tight for a whore, fuck as the sweat from his forehead dripped onto Anakin’s back.
Anakin’s limbs are still roughened up from yesterday, but he manages to keep himself upright as he rasps out, "You chose your useless ex."
At ex, Obi-Wan’s eyes flash with something akin to torment. It would be a lie if Anakin said this didn't make him feel even a little giddy, like he was stealing precious something from the man. Anakin isn't able to gloat for long before the alpha tightens his grip to harshly angle Anakin's face back down, quickly feeding his cock back down his throat.
"Yes, well,” Obi-Wan grits out. His voice sounds grating next to how patiently he pets Anakin's side part behind his ears where it gathers heaviest. “I wonder too why I bother with you when I always have to do your fucking work."
Anakin cries out, burying himself deeper into Obi-Wan's pelvis and rolling his eyes up pleadingly. His ex pulls out roughly, pistons in and in, holding Anakin’s head like a toy. It's a humiliating position to be in, but it turns him on so fucking much.
"Always trying to be good for me but never getting there. That's why you turned to everyone else, isn't it baby."
Obi-Wan slams into Anakin’s face and it puts him into a daze. His eyelashes flutter against the wet patch of pubic hair, filthy and threaded with the precome escaping Anakin's mouth.
He whines when Obi-Wan accidentally slips out. The alpha doesn't waste a second, taking a hold of himself and gripping Anakin's jaw to feed it back in.
"Spreading your pussy for the whole town, all for someone to make you feel like you're worth shit— shit."
He thrusts in a few more times, yanking at the knots in his hair before pulling Anakin off of him again. Obi-Wan drags him backwards by the collar until his spine is pressed against the door. Before Anakin manages a feeble protest, Obi-Wan's knee is at eye level and his foot finds purchase on Anakin's chest.
"All you're good for is this," he promises, heel grinding down hard into the cloth around Anakin's nipple.
"Getting ready for my fat cock to split you open."
Anakin cries out around the sensation, the door keeping him upright, unable to squirm away until the foot lifts away and he collapses to the ground. He's already so turned on, feels himself steadily releasing slick.
Obi-Wan kneels down to unzip Anakin's jacket halfway and examine his work, smirking at the rosy rings over his chest. It makes Anakin shiver in anticipation.
Obi-Wan had always loved his tits. Back when Anakin had routinely swept the living room, he’d often find himself spinning off balance to be pinned against the couch arm, Obi-Wan mouthing at glands while palming over his tank top. He'd fondle him any chance he'd get, rutting his cock into the soft curve of Anakin’s waist, grunting mindlessly about new houserules and banning clothes while chores were in progress.
During the busier months, Anakin would select a push-up bra one size below while waiting for Obi-Wan to come home frustrated from a meeting, be rewarded with a rushed titfuck when the beardburn got too scratchy for his tenderized flesh. His panties had always soaked through, high pitched keens coaxed out of him until Obi-Wan busted his load down Anakin’s throat. Dirty sluts never shut up until they’re all bloated with my come.
And then he’d ruin Anakin’s puffy little cunt, whispering low into his ear about showing him off to the executives next meeting, letting Anakin bounce in his lap until Obi-Wan got bored of shooting off in him. And then he'd entertain buying a new toy to plug him up so Anakin wouldn't soil their pristine floors.
God, just thinking about it makes him so horny, he's so fucking wet. His dick aches painfully against his jeans, but he doesn't care, he can't have a blinding orgasm until his hole is stuffed in with Obi-Wan's fat cock, his knot if he's lucky. Anakin barely remembers what his motive might have been coming here, doesn’t think it matters either way.
Here and now, Obi-Wan beckons Anakin over towards the head of the bed, splaying his legs out and waiting patiently for Anakin to follow. The dark promise in his gaze makes Anakin’s face feel like a kiln as he settles into Obi-Wan’s lap. The blunt tip of his ex’s cock is digging into his lower body with too many layers in between. It’s not nearly enough. Anakin squirms needily over Obi-Wan’s thigh until the grip over his ass tightens in warning.
“Alpha,” he gasps, breath stolen at how Obi-Wan's pupils tinge with a slight red. His gaze is fixed over the two wet patches atop Anakin’s jacket.
He's grown since his ex last saw them, Anakin realizes with a vindictive smirk. All soft curves and swollen with milk. Anakin lifts the hem of his jacket and bites it down, loving how it squishes his tits closer together like some pornstar shot. He jiggles them a little, reveling in the way Obi-Wan's cock twitches in response.
Obi-Wan gathers Anakin by the ribs to inch him closer to his face, close enough that Anakin can feel his ex’s breath wetly gathering in his cleavage. His face is twisted into the filthiest look.
"You've been so busy getting bred, you're practically leaking."
"They aren't as heavy as usual, I had Clovis wring me dry yesterday," Anakin lies cruelly. In one fluid motion, Obi-Wan unzips his jacket and uses his canines to nip at one of the aching buds.
"You still crawled back here first thing in the morning."
His fangs glint as he stares up at Anakin through his lashes. God, Anakin thinks, he's so beautiful. The alpha pulls at the other breast in rough circular motions. Anakin cranes his head back with a soft whimper, his hair catching at the edge of the headboard.
Obi-Wan's hand travels down Anakin's hips, squeezing at soft flesh with a vice grip. His fingers cage him in until Anakin's legs fold around his hips. Obi-Wan grunts in mere approval before moving to the other nipple to suck softly. The radiating ache in his tits starts to release as the sensation of milk flowing takes over. It dribbles out in small spurts, and Anakin squeezes his thighs around his ex, unable to help the little ah ah ahs from escaping.
"I should just kick you out right now back into the street. Let the neighbors see how tender your chest is dripping full of milk for me."
Anakin thrashes around Obi-Wan's mouth, body contorting with sudden, pure desperation. Surely Obi-Wan can't, he wouldn't do something so cruel. He doesn't realize he's stopped breathing until Obi-Wan's nosing at his cheek, then nuzzling into him warmly.
It brings him back into reality, hating himself for immediately relaxing and being so pliant. Being in Obi-Wan's arms always made his blood sing with belonging, made him feel safe enough to let go. It fools him into thinking he didn't intrude into the house a mere hour ago, and that they weren't just strangers to each other now.
There's a nagging, unnamed feeling in his chest rapidly curling into bitterness. It has him pushing Obi-Wan's face away.
"Shut up and just fuck me."
Obi-Wan reaches out to entwine their hands but stills when Anakin continues with a loaded bite, "Not like it'll mean anything."
There's an odd moment of pause where Obi-Wan levels him with an unreadable stare before he changes grip. It feels vindictive when Obi-Wan's nails dig welts into Anakin's love handles, and then Anakin is flipped roughly onto all fours.
A choked off swear escapes him before Obi-Wan's pushing a palm down his spine with punishing force. “Of course not," he replies curtly, "if this overused glory hole is anything to go by.”
“Shut up,” Anakin mutters, embarrassed at how much slick he gushes out from this position. "You-mffngfff!"
Obi-Wan reaches for Anakin’s skull and grinds it into the mat, muffling the rest of what he has to say. Anakin has a colorful littany of curses he's ready to throw when he's released, but all that comes out is "ahhhh-ah right there, ohhh fuck-"
Obi-Wan is taking turns sucking and running his tongue over his tiny puckered hole while holding it apart with both thumbs. Anakin gasps at how lewd it feels when his beard scratches against him. He groans and bites down on a mouthful of bed sheets, grinding his teeth at the dual stimulation. There's an unwelcoming voice in the back of his head taking on Hondo's accent and reprimanding Anakin for getting his ass eaten by a mouth that shared both nicotine and blood with him. The voice's disdain of this biohazard quickly vanishes in the face of Anakin's mind numbing pleasure.
Obi-Wan's tongue prods the entrance, giving it broad flat swipes in between each poke as Anakin's toes flex and curl helplessly against the sensation. He cries out and tightens, gushing out more slick when Obi-Wan starts jabbing his tongue in, repetitively penetrating through the band of tight pink muscle.
"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Anakin rasps out. He sounds like he's dying—he hasn't even been here for a full hour and his life is at stake.
Obi-Wan eats him out like he's been starved for weeks, like stopping would eviscerate him more than never breathing again. Anakin muffles a cry by grabbing a pillow to press it into his face. Immediately, Obi-Wan pushes away to nip Anakin's waist with a warning growl, bad.
So Anakin behaves for his alpha. Or not his alpha. He doesn't have time to think on the implications of that thought before Obi-Wan is back to mouthing his hole.
"Hold yourself open," Obi-Wan commands, "and arch."
Anakin chances a glance back and immediately moans. Obi-Wan's beard gleams with the room lighting from how drenched it is with slick— it renders Anakin out of breath even though he's just been the one sitting back and taking it. He's back to sobbing when Obi-Wan peppers his entrance with a few bites before pumping his tongue back in enthusiastically. His faces prickles with embarrassment as he tries to be good for Obi-Wan, spreading himself open, helplessly near his orgasm.
He tightens again and cries out when the pleasure almost reaches its brink but the pressure recedes immediately. Anakin would beg, he's really not above it at this point but his mind is so far gone he can't string the words together.
"Already?" Obi-Wan asks, pulling back from his crease. Anakin turns his head around, his breathing picking up. The alpha's face is grotesquely purple, and he's heaving hard but it's hottest fucking thing Anakin's ever seen in his life.
He tries to seal the image in his mind because he no longer has the strength to keep looking. Anakin collapses, hips boneless and twitching from the phantom sensations. Obi-Wan waits until Anakin settles back down, raising an eyebrow.
He makes even that look authoritative, Anakin thinks, his pulse quickening.
Obi-Wan wipes the slick off his beard with his left forearm. Anakin gathers the last of his energy to shove a pillow beneath his hips before Obi-Wan perches behind him once more. With his other hand, Obi-Wan shoves two digits into the tight ring of muscle, and Anakin lets out a surprised yelp.
“What, you think I’d start with one finger for your loose whore pussy?”
The intrusion to his cunt is frictionless, but the stretch of Obi-Wan's fingers burns through him and into his veins. Obi-Wan laughs at the sight of Anakin squirming, adding a third finger and crooking them just enough to graze his prostate.
“This was your plan? Drop off the ring reeking of another alpha and thought you could hurt me?”
Anakin reaches back to spread himself open, face burning as he tries to keep his hips still.
“Know why none of them have ever stuck around?”
Because they know I'm yours, Anakin doesn’t say. He swallows it down with unease, biting down on his bottom lip. It reopens the wound from earlier but Anakin doesn't care, as long as nothing escapes.
“Baby," Obi-Wan murmurs, "you've been hopping beds for an entire year." He withdraws his fingers to reach over and tap at Anakin's mating glands in reminder. Anakin swallows around a lump in his throat.
"Always dolling up for those boys, but it always ends with the same story, doesn't it? They all take one look at you and can't even begin to consider a future with that washed up pussy."
With a thumb resting on top, Obi-Wan presses the head of his cock against Anakin's ass, waiting. Anakin scowls and thrusts backwards wantonly, bumping into cotton fabric as Obi-Wan's dick slips to the side of his asscheek. He still has his shirt on despite how hot he gets during ruts. Anakin knows he's doing it to deprive him of his scent, which can’t be allowed. He reaches back to tug at it, but grumbles when his wrist is deftly slapped away.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself omega, this is just a one-time thing,” Obi-Wan warns.
The statement makes Anakin’s blood taste metallic in his mouth, tinged bitter with resentment. He's the one who told Obi-Wan to be mean, but that doesn't erase the ache beneath all of this. It also doesn't stop him from snapping back like a cornered animal. He cranes his neck sideways to spit on the bedcovers.
"With all the time you spent in Hoth and fuck nothing to do, you must've had your fun with the crew," Anakin hisses. "Tell me, was Satine a good lay?"
Obi-Wan bottoms out into him punishingly, causing Anakin to cry out. Surely it’s not an exaggeration that it's been an entire year since he was stretched this full. For a moment, he's terrified he can't do this, but a calming scent emanates into the air.
Oh. His adrenaline spikes back down. That’s for me, he thinks.
Obi-Wan rubs his palm down the expanse of Anakin’s spine soothingly. Using only slow movement, he grinds circles into him until Anakin pushes back with his hips, signaling he can continue. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath before pulling back, and then he harshly shoves back in. The room starts to echo with the sound of skin slapping on skin, but Anakin only hears his ex’s every vile word, each punctuated by a snap of his hips.
"Do you really fucking think," Obi-Wan hisses, changing his grip to wrap one hand around both of Anakin’s wrists, "Satine could ever put out for me like you do."
Anakin's mouth hangs open, lucid around the sensation of Obi-Wan driving into him relentlessly.
"You think I'd go for any substitute pussy in Hoth or Coruscant when I've got you so wet and easy for me, right where I want you, princess?"
Anakin moans loud and desperate as his hands scrabble over the sheets before settling in his hair like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He realizes just then how starved he's been for the affection, the nickname alone was so disarming it nearly pushed him over the brink.
"Please," Anakin hiccups, soft and desperate.
Something in his tone makes Obi-Wan pause and pull himself out. Anakin clenches reflexively at the feeling of his slick leaking out around the emptiness. When Obi-Wan gathers Anakin up and turns him around to face him, it's without haste. He’s supporting most of the weight until Anakin’s placed down into soft pillows, facing the other with heavy lids. Obi-Wan looks so beautiful like this—sweat clinging to his hair, backlighting framing his fond expression.
"Baby, my baby girl."
Obi-Wan is holding him so gently, looking at him in a way that makes Anakin's heart go jagged with want. The contrast between the emptiness of the past year to now rouses even older memories he had locked away—the compelling depth of Obi-Wan’s adoration, the crinkling in Obi-Wan’s eyes when he smiles at Anakin. He can't look away.
My alpha, Anakin thinks. My alpha is smiling like this at me again.
"What do you need," Obi-Wan asks, elbows finding purchase on either side of him.
"You," Anakin sniffs, "N-need you so bad."
Obi-Wan shushes Anakin by licking into his mouth. He carefully parts the soft flesh of his thighs and breaches him again, this time rocking himself inside slowly. Anakin's not sure how much of this gentility he can take before coming away from it all unscathed. For now, the bitter feelings have subsided to give way to something else unnamed—but familiar. It's the quiet of this moment that blooms something warm inside, spreading to his limbs, then his fingertips when Obi-Wan laces his own into them.
The alpha starts a steady pace, pushing and grinding in tandem with Anakin’s gasps. Because he's lying on his back this time, Anakin notices the pinch in Obi-Wan's expression and how his breathing starts to shallow. Anakin's mouth falls open in realization. He's overcome with awe that Obi-Wan's been holding back, of course, Anakin should know better than anyone else how much restraint it takes for him to hold back in rut.
"Faster, Obi-Wan. Just let go."
The alpha's brows furrow harder in concentration, "No, I'm- I'm not sure you should be here for the brunt of it. I may not be able to handle myself."
Anakin rolls his eyes, smiling, and then lolls his tongue out to lick around his lips in an obscenely slow motion.
"But don't you want to breed me, alpha?" He asks, taking Obi-Wan's finger into his wet mouth. Obi-Wan’s eyes follow the movement with frenzied eyes. Anakin's breath catches at the sight. His pupils are intense with a red glow, color bloodier than he's ever seen them. It's a small victory when Obi-Wan growls darkly, his hips stuttering as Anakin wraps the coarse flesh of his tongue around the fingertip.
"Look how wet and easy I am, you could get me wetter just by shooting off in my tight pussy until you're happy."
Obi-Wan keens harshly, bending down to his nape, letting drool escape from his clenched teeth. Anakin's shudders at the cooling spit, but he's nothing if not relentless.
"Don't you want to plug me up, lock me here with your fat knot so I don't get knocked up by some other alpha?"
At the last statement, Obi-Wan rears back, and for a moment Anakin's terrified his taunts are about to get him kicked out of the house. Instead, he almost knees himself in the face because Obi-Wan has bent him in half in that split second. Literally. A slight turn of the head and Anakin would be kissing his own calves.
"Mine," he snarls, hips finally fucking in to the hilt. The blunt force of his dick makes Anakin shut up immediately, his eyes crossing at such an angle he swears he sees two blurry Obi-Wans for a moment.
"No one—no one fucks you like I do, no one knots you but me," he growls. "My omega, my- mine."
Obi-Wan really had a way with phrasing things like he was stating facts rather than demands when he went feral. It'd be annoying in any other circumstance, but Anakin's currently riding out the moment like some blissful dream. It hits on an instinctive level too, his inner omega singing at all the caveman alpha-talk.
He would swoon if he could, really. Anakin's toes are pivoting in all sorts of ways, and he can't even aid by pushing back with the way his body is contorted, much less summon a reply. Not that he needs to anyways, thank god because all he can focus on with his deepfried brain is just taking this harsh deep fuck.
It's a miracle he's made it this far, but Anakin really thinks he might die this time. His hole is at the end of what's essentially a battering ram, and if the bed crashing through the floor doesn't kill him first, the heat stroke from the rut will.
Anakin knows he's not imagining the temperature of the room spiking because he smells it. The rank stench of Obi-Wan's sweat wafts through the air, as in, there's literally the fucking steam of it rising from Obi-Wan's back. Anakin belatedly wonders what a sight it'll be for the citizens of Coruscant when he gets carried out in a stretcher bare naked, his hole gaping open if it hasn't turned to prosciutto by the time Obi-Wan's done with him. That's the end of that thought though because the swollen base of Obi-Wan's cock suddenly rams a wheeze out of him.
Obi-Wan shifts forward even higher to hug Anakin closer, gaining a better angle to jackrabbit against Anakin's hips. The force of each thrust is accompanied by the sticky slap of Obi-Wan's balls against his flesh.
"Guh-good omega," Obi-Wan slurs, "Wanna knot, gonna-"
"I need it, I need it, I need it," Anakin whines, pulling Obi-Wan closer. "N- need it so, ah- ah- bad."
The added weight only fucks his dick deeper into him, and it makes Anakin keen hysterically. He feels his orgasm rippling through his limbs and building in his groin, barreling at highway speed through his body.
"G-gonna fuck you until it takes, and takes, and then again until you’re dripping with my come," Obi-Wan groans out, deep and guttural.
It pushes Anakin over the brink. The world flashes white hot as his untouched cock twitches and jets his spend all over their chests. His thighs are quaking the entire time, jolts of pleasure radiating out of him in deep, intense waves. Through it all Obi-Wan's softly kissing his cheek, murmuring into his ear about how damn perfect and tight Anakin is, how needy is hole feels still clenching around him.
Maybe it's the way Obi-Wan gets all sweet when chasing his own end. It was the telltale sign when he went from all you're good for is getting ready for my fat cock to split you open to you're so perfect and tight around me baby, you know that? Love you, love you so much that he was close. It was him at his most honest, too tired to be mean or play at roles.
It was this stage Anakin both dreaded and ached for too often. How could anyone get over a man who had sex like he was discovering new things to love about you every time?
It's why Anakin was helplessly smitten and then lonely and crying for a year because he had nothing mean left to say about his ex. Obi-Wan imprinted Anakin with his kisses like he would forget how much Obi-Wan loved him, and then promptly went ahead and forgot him.
He knows too well when Obi-Wan lifts his head to gaze at him with adoration, it isn't anything but genuine.
I'm so fucked, Anakin thinks, blinking back tears. He braves another glance and is greeted with Obi-Wan's eyes still rimmed in red, but alight with such a brightness it makes Anakin want to weep, and he does. He cries, low with want, curling his arms around his ex’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.
Obi-Wan gives it to him of course, and it’s with a tenderness he easily surrenders into. His back arches upwards, helped by Obi-Wan's cradling arms, parting his lips further to give him more access. Anakin had forgotten how enjoyable kissing could be.
When he pulls away, Anakin sniffles. Obi-Wan smiles, dipping down to kiss the button of his nose before straightening up to gain more leverage in his thrusts.
Anakin's eyes gloss over, hazy and mewing weakly as Obi-Wan speeds up again, plunging into his hole with loud squelches. Anakin's tits have gotten tender from all the jiggling, so he gathers them up in his hands, laughing when drool spills out of Obi-Wan’s mouth onto his forehead.
The bed creaks as his knot reaches the verge of popping in, the slide from Anakin's fluids enhancing each fast, blunt thrust. Each attempt at shoving through his tight ring of muscle makes Anakin shudder, his walls still erratically clenching through his post orgasm.
"I can carry, I’m not on birth control." Anakin murmurs between bated breaths. Obi-Wan’s cock jumps inside of him with intent, and it makes Anakin gasp at the overstimulation.
“You can do better than that baby,” he goads. “Didn't you promise to shoot off in me until my insides get all wet and sloppy with your pups?”
Obi-Wan makes an inhumane sound as he finally, finally pops his knot in. Anakin whines at piercing decibels through it all as Obi-Wan mouths at his nape, running his teeth across the tender flesh. Every inch of his skin feels like it's bursting when Obi-Wan tenses up, blood rushing through him, and then he's spurting impossibly deep into his heat, pulsing into him with thick, hot seed. Anakin's mouth forms an 'o' as his lids shut halfway, thighs twitching around the dim pleasure. Obi-Wan is listlessly licking his neck, petting his sides while panting so fucking sweet for me, omega, my baby, all-all mine.
Anakin's drained and boneless but the endless praise makes his gut—or whatever's left of it— flutter endlessly.
Boundaries all but forgotten, he thinks as his nape twinges with a dull ache. Obi-Wan had managed to keep himself from biting him back during his rut.
That awareness makes Anakin’s post-orgamic haze tinge with bitter relief, which then transitions to wonder when he inhales his ex’s scent—wafting notes of adoration and comfort. Anakin releases his own notes of contentment and savors it when Obi-Wan’s hips kick forward shallowly, sending another long spurt into Anakin's sore hole. His eyelids flutter weakly at the sensation of come pushing past the knot and squeezing itself out of his hole. God, Obi-Wan comes so much. Anakin loves how the warmth radiates into his tummy and how the moment his knot releases, he’ll be dripping with it just like Obi-Wan promised.
There's only a few ways things will come to an end after this and Anakin has no idea what he'll do. Being locked into place and held by his ex now dredges up more complicated emotions, but he's too tired to do anything about it. The warmth enveloping them both is so cocoon-like that it's enough to lull them into a light snooze.
—
When the knot releases, Obi-Wan flops down next to him, all sated and soft.
"Missed you," he murmurs, curled up on his side.
"Liar," Anakin huffs, without any bite to it.
He's still splayed out on his back, watching the ceiling come in and out of focus.
Obi-Wan gently maneuvers Anakin so that they're facing one another. Their bodies are huddled close enough to share heat but Anakin inches forward to get even closer yet until he can feel Obi-Wan's puffs of breath on his face, see the mole on his cheek and the slope of his jaw beneath that beard. There’s some white hairs around the periphery that make Obi-Wan look older than he really is. Anakin wonders what kind of expression he's donning and if it mirrors the way Obi-Wan looks at him like he’s the first and only person in the world.
They spend some hazy moments studying each other, blinking lazily as felines do. Anakin realizes Obi-Wan's about to fall back asleep when his eyes stay shut. He leans forward, grinning as he nuzzles his nose against Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan raises his eyebrow, eyes still closed until Anakin licks his cheek and then the button of his nose, not stopping when the other wrinkles his face at the sensation. It doesn't take long until Obi-Wan's lips stretch into a dopey smile, face scrunching up in fake annoyance. Anakin wishes he could take a picture of Obi-Wan right now, save it to remember that today gave him this at least.
After a beat Anakin says, "You kept our Gundams."
Obi-Wan laughs softly. "They protect the house from robbery." His eyes are downcast as he reaches out to play with the ends of Anakin’s hair.
He then twitches, the barest of movements, before pulling away awkwardly.
“Anakin,” he starts. "I'm sorry...well, for a lot."
Anakin's smile falls. He wants to bask in the afterglow a bit longer before driving back home with the past hour committed to memory. With the way Obi-Wan is lucid and staring at him now though, Anakin knows he has to listen.
"I hurt you, Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice softens, and then he adds quickly, "You don't have to reply right away."
Anakin nods. He wants to talk, maybe, but he wants a lot of things. He wants to lay atop Obi-Wan and make out again, he wants to run out the door so he can call Rex and start salvaging what's left of his soul. There’s something else, something delicate about lying here with him though, so Anakin lets himself do just that first. He reaches out to caress the tired wrinkles out of Obi-Wan’s forehead.
"I was going to text you after my rut," Obi-Wan admits sheepishly, breaking the silence.
The confession makes his chest tighten betrayingly. "I don't know if I would have responded," he replies. He thinks that's true, at least. "When are you leaving?"
Obi-Wan's lips curve wryly. "I'm not."
Once the words settle in, Anakin jolts.
"What?"
If he wasn't awake before, this was definitely the ice poured over his head.
"What do you-how many times are you going to kick the knife in?” Anakin’s teeth clench, causing a small muscle in his jaw to lock up. He curls in on himself. No, no.
“Anakin I-”
“How many times, Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s voice cracks. “Why would you do this to me?”
Obi-Wan’s stricken expression only makes Anakin feel like he’s going insane. He fucked up his farewell maybe an hour ago, and now he's being stripped of the remaining dignity? Anakin sits up, angrily scrubbing at his eyes. He has to leave, he shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have come here—
Obi-Wan scrambles to get up as well. "I got offered a teaching position at the college," he rushes out, quickly grabbing something off the bedroom drawer. Anakin blinks up to see a phone shoved into his face, the locked screen lighting up with Hoth's penguins.
He's presented with the email which he barely reads because he knows it too well—Obi-Wan wouldn't lie about this, not like this. But it doesn't make sense.
Obi-Wan's passion is field research. He'd never wait long before planning his next venture a car ride or plane ticket away. Anakin sits back down warily, avoiding eye contact.
"This isn’t what you want.” Did you forget why you left?
"I'm not who I am without you Anakin," Obi-Wan says, gaze clouding into something distant. "Four years ago, I never would have stayed in research if it hadn't been for you. Didn't have the grants. Didn't have the energy, the support."
"And then,” he huffs dryly. “Last year, you cursed at me and threw all sorts of obscenities, but never once did you ask me to stay. I thought, at first, I'd be fine. No, wait—let me finish. Then as the months dragged on, I realized nothing was right about this. Not when I couldn’t share my joy with the one it belonged to. Even stranded on arctic ice thousands of miles from here, you were all I could focus on. I-Anakin, I lost myself by leaving."
"What," Anakin gestures between the two of them, "does this mean for us?" He swallows. His hands are trembling because it's just, he can’t— it's too soon.
Obi-Wan falters for a moment. "You’re free to choose."
It's too soon, it's too late. He can’t imagine being with Obi-Wan again. But when he leaves this house, can he go back to being without Obi-Wan? Can he bear being around Obi-Wan, without him?
He must be thinking for too long, because Obi-Wan's expression suddenly morphs into panic, his eyes wide as his mouth flops, really flops about uselessly.
“I don’t expect anything of you, for you to come back to me, not like that, ah, well- what I mean-” The inarticulate fumbling for words momentarily distracts Anakin, and he looks up to Obi-Wan twisting his mouth in frustration. An odd picture that would be disorienting if Anakin wasn’t already losing his mind right now.
“I’m not leaving regardless. If you’re still- er, still undecided, we can settle this another time or you can tell me to fuck off if that's what you want but- but if you’re willing to give me another chance-”
There's a soft earnestness in Obi-Wan's voice that makes Anakin lose the ability to fight, perhaps too easily.
"I want you to have me Anakin," Obi-Wan says.
Anakin knows what he wants. It’s the way his chest clears when Obi-Wan waking him at tomorrow’s sunrise comes to mind, and then the realization that there’s no longer a premeditated end to that in sight. Perhaps he’s always known.
"You're offering yourself to me?" Anakin asks in a hushed voice.
“Yes.”
"That's it?" Anakin says. No conditions, no plane stowaway-ing, no more fear of his own heart.
Obi-Wan smiles softly. "That, is as they say, it."
Anakin ruminates for a second and somehow finds his voice back. “Obi-Wan. All I’ve ever fucking wanted was to love you, be loved by you, and get my tight little pussy knotted into oblivion by the end of it.”
Caught off guard, Obi-Wan’s face rushes with color, ears alight in bright pink. It makes Anakin snort in disbelief. For all the filthy talk spewed around earlier, he has some nerve to be embarrassed now.
"Was it too much? Did I bruise you?" Obi-Wan asks, worrying his lip. He examines Anakin's face by tilting his head left and right.
“We could’ve been doing that every day.”
Obi-Wan huffs, but continues to run his fingers down his jaw. “Don’t have nearly enough sheets for that.”
"It's a flaw."
Anakin dodges a playful swipe, then cocks his head when Obi-Wan turns towards the cabinet to reach for something else.
Next thing he knows, his fingers are resting in Obi-Wan's palm. Obi-Wan's other hand is hovering gently above Anakin's knuckles.
"Will you make another promise with me, Anakin?"
Anakin makes a strangled noise. What the fuck? They just made up. Well, maybe in the wrong order, but that's something to process better later. Anakin bates his breath as he extends his ring finger slightly above the rest.
"When did you realize?" he feels compelled to ask.
"Well...watching penguins reunite with their lifelong mates this year might have pulled a tear or two out of me," Obi-Wan confesses.
"You changed your mind because of the penguins," Anakin deadpans. He doesn't know whether he should thank them or start working a way to torch the ice caps himself.
His pulse quickens as he feels his hand being turned over, and then Obi-Wan drops a rough, cold object into his palm.
Anakin's heartbeat does a record scratch.
Huh. That's not a ring.
"I had to tussle with a penguin for this stone," Obi-Wan huffs. "I got it first," he mutters lowly in addition.
Anakin covers his mouth with his palm. Obi-Wan fought a penguin.
"They build their nests with these, Anakin. I thought— I thought I'd bring my own back with me to show you that I'm ready to start a new life with you."
He doesn’t want to laugh, okay, he really doesn't, but this is flat out the dinkiest mating gift he’s ever witnessed. Obi-Wan is looking at him so solemnly, probably praying that this pebble carried the same deeply romantic appeal to Anakin as it had for some dingy bird. A point of contention for later.
He turns the stone over in his hand, coughing to hide the rude sound threatening to burst out at his alpha. Oh. His alpha.
When Anakin finally looks up, his eyes are bright.
"You expect us to nest with just one?"