Title: My Dinner with Ani
(With apologies to "My Dinner with Andre")
Timeline: Pre ROTS (Padme who????)
Series: Jedi High Jinks
Author: BoDeeWan (email@example.com)
Archive: Free to archive, cross stitch it on a pillow, have it tattooed somewhere, I give it to you freely!
Category: It’s Humor … like the funny kind but different.
Spoilers: Well, I did the Tech Guy! Spoiler enough for ya? I ain’t going to say how it ended, let’s just say somebody got Windows XP! Other then that read on with impunity!
Summary: Just a meaningless little piece of fluff about dinner time at the Kenobi house! And you won’t believe what’s being served up for desert!
Warnings: This piece contains sexual references and humor. Any other use of this material may void the warranty.
Disclaimer: Go ahead George, sue me! Then I get to subpoena Ewan and Hayden as witnesses! Yippy Skippy! <-- Worth doing a dime at the Big House, wouldn’t you say?
Chapter 1 - The Main Course
“Oh, Anakin, what have you done?” Obi Wan felt his heavy heart sink as the tendrils of acrid smoke that surrounded him burned into his eyes. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the gut wrenching heartbreak he felt in this instant. So many years … they had been through so much together, and now without so much as a whisper it was over. His distraught mind was hardly able to accept the finality of the loss that overwhelmed him. Through sheer will he forced himself to clumsily step forward extending his trembling hand as he tried haplessly to reach into the dark swirling abyss and salvage his precious …
“Come on Master,” Anakin stepped from behind him as he stood transfixed by the disaster that was once his kitchen, “It’s just brazier … you can buy them anywhere.”
Obi Wan could not take his eyes off the charred remains of his beloved brazier … the one Qui Gon had given him all those years ago … the one he had carried with him through countless campaigns and conflicts. The flawless heat diffusion, the exquisite contours, it was the perfect companion in his career as an amateur gourmet. Now, just like that, it was gone … and he hadn’t even been there at the end. Had it been quick or had it been a long protracted ugly affair? He really didn’t want to know. All he could do now is stare at the seething hulk as the ultra-heavy bonded core surrendered its final bounty. How many exceptional meals had it rendered before dying at the well meaning hands of Anakin Skywalker.
“Don’t look so sad, Master,” The young man offered his conciliation as he returned to the scene of the crime reaching into the cupboard for a serving dish. Dutifully he attended to the other unfortunate cookware that would no doubt soon follow their elder brethren into … whatever fresh hell dead cookware goes to when it dies. Taking only an instant from his task his expression belied the pride that he clearly felt as with a wave of his gloved hand he presented the entire mess anew to his Master, “Look, I made dinner.”
Obi Wan rubbed his eyes wearily uncertain whether it was the smoke that permeated all of the breathable air in the kitchen or perhaps his own bloody sentimentality that had caused a solitary tear to drop silently onto his cheek. He had arrived only moments earlier having received a message that afternoon from Ani requesting that he return home as soon as the council had adjourned for the day. To be frank, he had rather anticipated something a little different then this catastrophe as he had cheerfully crossed the threshold from the veranda.
“Anakin,” At a total loss to know exactly what to say in answer to this unmitigated debacle, he defaulted to his well hewn diplomatic training and repeated the young man’s words back to him as a question, “You made … dinner?” Had his voice betrayed the apprehension within him? Anakin never cooked … never! In the recesses of his memory he could not actually recall a time when his former Padawan had ever taken spatula in hand and de facto cooked anything other then reheating his precious take-out Sliders, which in the annals of fine cuisine, really didn’t qualify as food, per se. Typically when they were on Coruscant it was Obi Wan who served as the chef de cuisine by preparing their nightly meal or selecting from one of the myriad of restaurants that served the diverse population of the city planet. On those occasions when he was able to prepare a proper meal Kenobi always took a great deal of pride in the culinary expertise he had acquired over the course of his lifetime. He used only the freshest ingredients procured that day from his own inner circle of shopkeepers and butchers. He would routinely return from his adventures with new exotic spices in his quest for culinary perfection. If a Jedi were allowed such vanities he would claim his kitchen as his personal kingdom … a kingdom on which his friend had laid siege, pillaging and plundering with all good intentions. Perhaps it was meant to be the end of an era he thought sadly as taking a deep breath … *cough* … two breaths, he regarded Anakin with an curious mixture of both appreciation and abject horror.
“Anakin, you didn’t.” The double edged tenor of his statement both intentional and unnoticed as Anakin set yet another pot of steaming …. food, he surmised, to the counter.
“It just didn’t seem fair Master that you always have to prepare the meal, so I thought what the hell, I can do this.” The sight of the newly knighted Jedi standing there amongst the clutter and chaos of his erstwhile kitchen struck Obi Wan as almost whimsical. No longer his young Padawan, Anakin had grown into a handsome young man right before Obi Wan’s eyes. For the evening he had abandoned his usual Jedi attire selecting a silky black shirt and tight black breeches, neither of which by good fortune or design left anything to the imagination. It was perhaps the colorful hand towel, however, neatly tucked into the waistband of his pants that would leave the most lasting impression on Obi Wan as the young man busied himself with the finishing touches to his feast.
“Sit down Master, foods almost ready.” He said waving his Master to the dining area with his gauntleted hand. Obi Wan had to admit that in spite of the chaos of the kitchen the table had been arranged to perfection. The candlelight cast a delicate glow over the beautiful dishes and stemware reminding him of the countless formal receptions both he and Anakin had attended over the years. He had even placed several small bowls of fruits and uncooked vegetables next to each place setting, duplicating a small courtesy that Obi Wan had always observed. As one was enjoying their meal they could intermittently partake in order to refresh their palate after each course had been served. He didn’t imagine that his young friend had endeavored to complete more then one course of the meal, but the sentiment was not lost on him.
Loosing his robe Obi Wan lay it neatly to one side as he sat down at the table admiring the painstaking care with which Anakin had clearly tried to make it as perfect as he could for the evening meal. Until this moment he would have been hard pressed to say that Anakin was fully aware they used plates let alone to remember such small ascetic details. For that moment he forgot the disarray only a few feet away and felt hopeful that perhaps, in his own way, Anakin would be able to pull this off. Sure, he had virtually destroyed his kitchen but on the other hand his gesture of selflessness touched him very deeply. In the grand scheme of things it was truly an unexpected gift, all the more so because it was something new for the young man with no guarantee that his efforts would even be successful. Anakin did not like to try new things opting instead to build and rebuild on his past successes. Obi Wan had strongly encouraged him to augment his learning by taking on new and more difficult challenges, but nothing could have ever prepared him for this. He watched appreciatively as Anakin served the food noting several quick glances from the young man when he thought he wasn’t being watched. Finally, with everything in place he sat down offering the wine to his Master for inspection.
“I wasn’t sure what was appropriate,” He looked very thoughtful as he laid the bottle into his Master’s hands, “so I went with something … red?” There was a charming hesitation in his voice as he spoke.
“Perfect” Obi Wan smiled broadly turning the bottle over in his hands not knowing if it were or not, “Ahhh, a Sora Gaja vintage. Very good choice!” Very expensive choice as well! He wondered just how much of his Jedi stipend his friend had spent in this little affair. Keeping any trace of concern from his voice he continued,” And we are serving it with …?”
Looking away Anakin spoke with much less confidence then before, “Oh … poultry I think.”
“You think? You don’t know?” This was not good. Obi Wan felt his brow furrow tightly as he set forward in his chair anxious to know how someone could spend an entire day preparing a meal without knowing the nature of their main ingredient.
“Well …” Ani cleared his throat and shifted in his chair nervously, “The vendor sort of processed the meat ahead of time. He called it … uhm … leniad … lenasad …. Something like that. Anyway he assured me that it was perfect for this …” With that he removed the lid from the tureen that sat at the center of the table presenting the evening’s fare.
He was intrigued … Lenista’ was typically a delicate fowl found in the marshlands of Old Coruscant, known for its sweet tender meat. So choice was the meat that it was typically served lightly grilled adorned with fresh vegetables and a simple Au jus. Obi Wan peeked over the rim of the dish at the goulash pondering exactly what manner of speeder kill had been palmed off on his poor naive friend as Lenista’. He could not immediately discern it by sight or smell. As he carefully dipped the ladle into the dish it became abundantly clear that either the vendor had been grossly mistaken or that this particular Lenista’ had suffered a lingering natural death.
“It looks absolutely … delicious,” He sighed trying secretly to force the air from his nostrils as the aroma assailed his senses. “I can’t believe … you did this.”
“It really wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” Anakin said proudly as he studied Obi Wan’s expression in anticipation. “Do you really like it?”
Clearing his throat the elder Jedi served himself a generous portion of the stew, “I am impressed Anakin.” Staring down he was, in truth, impressed by the fact that the human olfactory sense could withstand an extraordinary amount of abuse and still function, which in this case was most definitely a two-edged sword. Selecting several of the fresh vegetables from the nearby bowl he tried as best he could to garnish the stew … to at least make it appear appetizing, more for Ani’s sake then his own. Arranging them artistically on his plate several times he finally opened his hands to present it to the young chef. “It plates beautifully!” he said looking down at the stew as it slowly ebbed its noxious way across the dish destroying all actual food in it’s path … like a wildfire might destroy pristine wilderness.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Ani agreed proudly as he attempted to replicate his Master’s arrangement on his own plate. Nodding he seemed quite pleased with his creation.
While Anakin poured the wine Obi Wan smiled warmly, continuing to study the food in order to calculate just how many glasses he would have to consume before this became even marginally palatable. Doing the math he regretted that Ani had not let him kick in a few credits to get several more bottles of the wine. Looking up he could see that Anakin was waiting for him to lead their meditation. As always they paused for a moment and contemplated the Jedi Code before eating. Tonight, especially, he lingered over the words trying to procrastinate as long as he discreetly could before dining. Making a quick plea to the Force of his Jedi ancestors he finally lifted his fork bracing his palate for the ordeal that no doubt lie ahead.
In his life Obi Wan Kenobi had eaten many things. Sometimes he had eaten for sheer aesthetic pleasure. On other occasions had eaten the most basic vile things simply for the sake of survival. There had been other times when he was called upon as a diplomat to consume very peculiar fare from distant exotic cultures. ‘Culture’ was probably the word that leapt immediately to mind as the stew finally touched his lips. Not culture as in proud legacy of a people, but more along the lines of culture, a bacterial bath growing in a dish. To his credit Anakin had apparently attempted to use spices to enhance the flavor of his creation … possibly every one of them at some point he surmised as the tangle of tastes spread out in his mouth like a contagion.
“This is …” He searched diplomatically for just the right word, “…extraordinary! And you’ve never done this before?”
“No … really, this was the first.” The young man answered proudly as he took a mouthful and swallowed it down easily.
After several more attempts to feign eating Obi Wan took a long sip of the wine … then another, hoping the alcohol would neutralize any lingering taste in his mouth, but the caustic aftertaste of the stew just seemed to permeate his mouth as he reluctantly lifted another bite to his lips. This time he was alarmed to find that a piece of actual meat had slipped accidentally onto his fork. Rending it as best he could he could swear the meat was growing in size and ferocity as he tried haplessly to chew it.
‘Oh Damn … it’s not going to go down!’ he thought exchanging polite smiles with Ani as he struggled to contain the Womp Rat that had most certainly secreted itself amongst the vegetables on his plate. “Mmmmmmmmmm.” was all he could muster as the fight raged on between his beleaguered taste buds and the … ‘thing’ that continued to assail his mouth. Finally, in what was an unprecedented act of Jedi fortitude, he compelled it down his throat. Small coughs answered as it seemed unwilling to go quietly.
Anakin looked up from his meal, “Are you okay Master?”
“Water … please.” He croaked raising the napkin to his lips in the event the ‘thing’ tried to make a hasty escape. As a tactician he was well aware that once the ‘thing’ had an opportunity to garner its forces it would no doubt make a mad rush back to the front. His napkin now stood as his last line of defense from certain humiliation were the ‘thing’ to press its attack from within. Anakin quickly returned to the kitchen to get him a fresh glass of water as Obi Wan considered his grave situation.
‘I can’t eat this!’ he thought desperately, quickly searching for a strategy of virtuous escape, mindful not to hurt Ani’s feelings. He quietly considered the terrace but knew that his noble death was not a viable option … just yet. Looking back at his plate he was mortified that he could not, even for the sake of his beloved Anakin, force another bite of this bile into his mouth. Pressing his lips tightly together he accepted the glass of water from his lover.
“That is quite amazing Anakin …I don’t know what you did to it,”He sipped his water, “but I've never tasted anything quite like it.”
A small blush spread over the young man’s cheeks as he continued to eat the stew heartily. Staring in stunned amazement at his ravenous dinner mate Obi Wan lifted a piece of the fresh fruit from the dish and pressed it to his lips letting the tartness subdue the taste of the stew. Drawing the juices into his mouth he could not help but notice Anakin watching silently, his eyes flashing from under the heavy crescent of his dark lashes. Pausing only for an instant he contemplated the fruit and then the appreciative look from he was receiving from the younger man. Licking his lips this time with calculated deliberation he again pressed the cool fruit to his mouth closing his eyes seductively. Discreetly he peeked from half closed eyes to see that Ani was watching the gesture with increased interest.
A diabolical plan began to hatch in his mind as Obi Wan realized that there were two things his young friend loved more then anything else … food and sex. He surmised that to avoid one he would have to exploit the other. He could hear his conscience scream from within his own thoughts, ‘You cannot do what your thinking … it’s wrong!’ Opening his eyes slowly he once again met the fascinated gaze of his lover who continued to eat greedily. The argument continued to rage in his mind, ‘Obi Wan Kenobi! You’re a Jedi Master! A General of the Republic Army! A member of the Jedi Council! You cannot be seriously considering seduction as your way out of this meal!’ Looking down at the food as a harsh reminder of the consequences for failure he could feel his conscience start to reluctantly relent. Cupping the wine glass in his hand he leaned back in his chair letting the tip of his tongue lightly run along the rim as he sipped the wine leisurely.
“Ani, I … I cannot tell you how this makes me feel … that you did all of this all for me.” Lightly biting his lip he dropped his gaze as though embarrassed by his own swell of emotions. Anakin looked up from his plate and watched as his Master did his best to imitate a genteel cocotte through every means he could, short of fanning himself wistfully and complaining about the heat. Obi Wan had never actually done this ‘seduction’ thing before as he frantically tried to remember every vamp and harlot he had ever encountered in his travels throughout the galaxy. As a strategist he was confident that with his tactical skills he could come up with something that would distract the young man from the noxious meal. Steadying his gaze on Anakin he slid the cool edge of the glass along the contour of his cheek allowing his eyes to flutter shut as though lost in the sensation of the cool glass on his flesh. He remembered a tavern woman doing this once and at the time he had thought it had looked ever so seductive. Sneaking a discreet glance he could discern Anakin still eating and watching him closely.
‘Damn it!’ He thought as his conscience all but laughed at his pithy effort, ‘No good will come of this Obi Wan Kenobi’ it admonished sharply. His keen survival instincts answered back with a slow leg cross. ‘That’s it … that’s what is missing!’ He felt victory almost in hand as once again he caressed his cheek with the cool glass only this time leaning back and crossing his legs. Another stolen glance confirmed that he did indeed have the young man’s complete and undivided attention.
‘Okay,’ he thought, ‘Now you have his attention!’ His thoughts reeled as vision after vision of strumpet coursed through his mind. He quickly reviewed his strategy: Thus far he had employed the Lip Lick, Eye Flutter, Glass to Cheek with and without the Legs Crossed, and of course the Licking of the Glass Rim. This had been an excellent opening gambit but now he had to really press his assault further if he were gong to successfully avoid this meal.
‘Aha!’ an inspiration hit him out of the blue! Leaning his head back he allowed his fingers to run sensuously along the rough neckline of his tunic, “Is it hot in here?” He sighed as he lilted his head from side to side as though almost overcome by a sudden rise in his body temperature! Well, he conceded, at least he hadn’t fanned himself as he did it!
‘Oh Damn!’ He second guessed himself, ‘Had it been side to side or back to front?’ He couldn’t remember! He tried valiantly to visualize the woman in the tavern. ‘Side to side … yes, that was it’, he was certain of it!
“Master?” Anakin wiped his mouth with the napkin as he reached for his wineglass, “Would you like some more water?”
‘For the love of …’ Obi Wan could feel his frustration growing, ‘Can’t he see that implying that I want sex? What I’m doing wrong?’ Another quick review of his strategic moves ‘Glass to Cheek, Eye Flutter, Lip Lick, Glass Rim Lick, Head Lilt, (side to side, not back to front), Fingers in Tunic … Ambiguous Double Entendre, (hot in here and all that sort of thing). Oh, and the Leg Cross … did the Leg Cross. ‘Damn, why isn’t this working?’ Had he miscalculated in his combinations? Flawed execution? Perhaps he should have fanned himself after all!
“Oh, no thank you.” He answered as he once again picked at the food moving it around his plate absently, his mind now coalescing every possible seductive angle. Then it hit him, ‘Smile, that’s it … the endearing Kenobi smile!’ It had never once failed to thaw the heart of even his most stalwart opponent at the negotiation table, it would most certainly work here. Gazing lovingly across the table at Anakin, he absolutely beamed with warmth and sensuality as the smile spread over his lips giving his lover his best “come hither” look.
The young man was cleaning his plate and going back for more when he looked up, “What’s so funny?”
‘Bad idea! Dreadful in fact!’ What had possessed him to try the smile … what had he been thinking, nobody just smiles when they are trying to … what was it Ani called it, ‘Hook up’! ‘Something more direct … that’s it’. He looked back down on the plate and felt his resolve strengthen knowing that the “thing” was now cold and like revenge was at its utmost power now … time for something unexpected … that’s it! He recalled a courtesan once who had, at a feast, stood in the midst of the revelry and with a simple motion of her hand brought even the most stalwart celibate Jedi in attendance to attention, so to speak.
Rising boldly from his chair Obi Wan looked down at his young lover … his fingers running along the neckline of his tunic. “I want you!” He declared forcefully in a voice almost not his own.
Ani sipped his wine as he chewed casually, “Want me to what?”
‘Oh, for the love of Gra’aton!’ he thought resisting the urge to stomp his foot and chastise him properly, ‘Ani, don’t be so thick!’ He allowed for a quick strategy correction, ‘Okay … too tentative … my fault …I’ll try again, only this time I’ll leave no doubt of my intentions!’
“I want you!” he hissed as his hands tugged at the fabric his tunic now open even more revealing just the briefest glimpse of his chest as his breath became raspier by design, “I need you now!”
“Now?” Ani raised his eyebrows as he continued to sip his wine, as though trying to confirm that he had heard his Master’s abrupt request correctly. “You need me now?”
“Yes now!” He growled using his best primal voice knowing that there could be no misunderstanding this time! “I can’t stand it anymore, Anakin!” He gritted his teeth as though just the effort to speak was growing more and more labored. “I must have you now!” For emphasis he removed his belt and tossed it to the floor.
Anakin considered the discarded belt as his Master’s tunic now hung loosely. Casually setting his glass to the table he calmly pushed his chair from the table. Slowly standing he reached to extinguish the candles with his gloved hand, pausing only as he looked back again at his Master. “Now?” he confirmed once again.
“Yes, Anakin now! This moment!” He tried to keep the exasperation with the continued questioning from his voice forcing it to sound breathy and needy. A strange unfamiliar surge of conquest started to course through him as he realized that he had finally won the day. The young man was now firmly under his spell and he felt an immense satisfaction that he, Obi Wan Kenobi, had actually seduced his young lover! ‘Ahhh, yes Little One’, He thought happily, ‘Step into my web.’ The young man answered with a faint half smile as he stepped away from his chair and walked towards him in slow measured steps. Obi Wan stood with an uncharacteristic boldness watching his every move, feeling his seductive hold tighten around his lover. He shuddered at the raw power he held over the young man and he promised himself that regardless, he would be gentle with him.
Approaching the table’s edge Anakin narrowed his eyes as a wicked smile crept over his face. Obi Wan stood transfixed as in one sweeping motion the young man gripped the front of his own shirt ripping it violently open. He swallowed hard as his mouth went dry, eyes widened in astonishment as buttons and pieces of torn dark fabric peppered the tabletop. Stepping back he tried to speak but his breath lodged in his throat as Ani drew closer his tightly muscled chest now fully exposed. With a long arcing motion he swept his arm over the table that stood partially between them brushing the remains of the meal to the floor as broken glass and food strewed over the floor. Obi Wan suddenly felt like a penitent child that having opened a forbidden closet had the contents come spilling out all around him. Circling him Anakin moved catlike to face him the motion of his body propelling Obi Wan back to the edge of the now bare table. Gripping his Master’s tunic the young man easily tore it open to the waist, then pulling it over his shoulders and partially down over his arms entrapped them helplessly to his sides.
Obi Wan could only react as the young man pushed him roughly onto the table using his body to press him back until he lay flush to the polished surface. In this position it took little effort for his young lover to relieve him of his pants pushing them down around his boots. Pressing his body between his legs Anakin braced himself with his gloved hand while fumbling with his own pants until he had freed his erection from the taunt fabric that had barely contained it. Now bracing himself Anakin stared down into his stunned face as he grinded his hips lewdly against his own sending hot torrents of desire coursing through his body. Leaning into him Ani’s face hovered over his own as he growled, “As you wish Master!” Obi Wan tried to speak, to regain some control but all he could do was gasp Anakin’s name as his warm lips covered his own.
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