Title: Hunter, Hunted
Series: Hunter, Hunted (A series of um... vignettes. They can stand
alone. or at least the first one can. I haven't writen the others yet
so I don't know.)
Author: Kaylie Malinza
Rating: Um.... I'd say PG-13. But then, I was reading porn when I was
13. But then again, this fic is pretty mild. I'll post it to
Fanfiction.net as R.
Archive: Sure! I love to spread the love! And thereby feel more love.
The world needs more Obi/Ani, anyway.
Category: NOT first time. a little BDSM. Later there will be more
BDSM.
Spoilers: Uh... you know that Anakin is Obi-Wan's padawan, right?
Summary: the predator is stalking the prey....
Warnings: Like I said, a tiny bit of blood and pain. Consensual,
though.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Sorry.
Author's Notes: again, not some of my best work, but regretteably, my
Star Wars slash never is. At least it exists, alright?
Obi-Wan Kenobi slid around the doorway, on the prowl. An eyebrow lifted, twitching upwards like the subtle, uncontainable swish of a lion's tail. His belly rumbled.
Hungry.
His toes curled against the floor; the coldness seeped into his skin, sliding upwards and making him shiver, a cold anticipatory wind. His clothing constrained him. He dropped his cloak, draped it over the back of a chair and continued. His feet made no sound.
Hunting.
Ether bloomed around him. It reached with his senses, drifted on his will and made him silent, unnoticed. He was sharp, he was cunning, he was stealthy. He was a predator.
His prey was ignorant of these preparations. It leaned on the stove, lazily stirring soup.
Kenobi attacked.
He leapt, sliding smoothly behind the prey and slipping his arms around it, arching up for a quick, stinging bite. He grinned at his prey's quiver, the tensing of muscles that quickly went limp in surrender. It was, after all, fairly captured.
The spoon clattered loudly on the floor.
"What are you doing?" said Anakin.
Kenobi didn't answer. He closed his mouth on the neck of his victim again, gently worrying skin and muscles between his teeth, slowly licking. His hands slid inside rough robes, gripping anxious, ticklish ribs.
"Wait, Master..... I'm cooking. Can't you just--" Anakin was breathing just a little faster. A little louder.
"No," said Kenobi. His hands moved upward, gripping the edge of the fabric and pulling. Fresh, unmarked skin was bared for him. He nipped a shoulder.
"Master!"
"You are a Jedi, Padawan. Surely you can do more than one thing at once?" Kenobi's voice was cool, so cool. It melted over the wet, reddened skin and dripped. Anakin's hands scrabbled weakly at the counter.
"But I.... I...."
"You must learn to ignore distractions, my young one."
"Master!"
Kenobi tightened his grip. His fingers, thick and capable, wandered across captive skin. Anakin shivered.
"The soup is burning," said Kenobi. Anakin jerked, made an abortive reach for the spoon on the floor, then reconsidered and yanked another spoon from the rack. Soup sloshed over the side and sizzled. Kenobi smelled deeply of his victim's skin. He reached up, curled his fingers over the face and tilted it back. Anakin uttered something, muffled by the guiding, controlling hand. Kenobi didn't care. He feasted slowly, delicately, and luxuriously on one fleecy earlobe.
More soup sizzled. The prey twitched, jerked its head, and Kenobi finally let go. His tongue wended its way down the arched and trembling neck, and finished at the nape in a flourish of saliva. He watched it slowly drip down, falling like a sweatdrop between the shoulder blades. Kenobi watched with utmost glee as his prey squirmed.
"I have to cut some vegetables...." said the prey.
"Then do it."
"But I can't--" Kenobi snapped his hand up, wrapping it around his victim and across its chest until he found a hot sticky nub of flesh and pinched it. Anakin stopped talking abruptly. His chest heaved; He undulated gently as his Master's fingers assuaged the hurt, gently circling it.
"Do it," said Kenobi.
Anakin breathed in deeply. He took the knife deliberately, arranged the carrots with utmost care and very, very, slowly began to cut them. Obi-Wan pressed closer to his prey, digging his teeth into soft skin as his paws, hands, explored their favorite texture. One finger fluttered near the edge of his pants; it wavered back and forth, stroking lightly. His hand curled of its own accord, and abruptly plunged downward.
Anakin cursed; the knife dropped, sending bits of carrot scattering across the counter.
"Don't do that!" he said.
"Do what?" said Obi-Wan. His hand pulsed gently around the searing stiffness. Anakin moaned, thrusting slightly, but his master held him securely. "Finish cooking," said Obi-Wan.
Anakin growled. He snatched at the carrots, tossed them haphazardly into the pot and slammed the lid on. Anakin spun to grab his captor, oblivious to the clang of metal and the sudden eruption of steam behind him. He bit at Obi-Wan's lips, spearing his tongue inside and holding his master close to him, gripping him tightly as they moved, and Anakin pushed the other man out of the kitchen.
"Don't do that," he muttered, tearing his mouth away for only a moment. He flung Kenobi to the couch and leapt to hold him down. Kenobi struggled, squirming to get away, squirming to get closer and breathing a lot faster, a lot harsher. The new predator took no prisoners. He kept his prey down, stripped the fur away and tasted him, bit him and licked him and stroked him, claws raking over sensitive, reddening flesh. He plunged in; Kenobi gave a wild cry of pain, arcing upwards as sweat dripped from his forehead, gritting his teeth as pain turned to something else, as he was licked and bitten and devoured and the predator captured the prey, and ate the prey and used the prey and they both gave one last, strangled moan.
Anakin fell off the couch. He sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling and listening to his own harsh, rapid breathing. Kenobi slid off the couch, found his prey and wrapped himself around it. Anakin groaned.
"I'm too hot," he said, weakly pushing him away. Kenobi clung even tighter, and Anakin subsided again. He glanced down at the head nestled into his chest, stroking it. "I hate it when you do that," he said. He slid his hand down, slipping through the other's sweat-slick skin. He hesitated for a moment at the small of the back, then dipped lower, questing between hot, sated flesh. His fingers came up tinged with blood.
Anakin sighed.
"I really, really hate it when you do that," he said. The body on his shifted.
"It's my fault," it said.
Anakin looked away, rubbing his lover's back in broad, sweeping strokes.
"I know," he said. He slipped his fingers down again, felt them tingle with Force-healing, and felt a little better. Obi-Wan sighed contently.
"See?" he murmured. "It's fixed now."
"No, it's not," said Anakin petulantly. "I hate it when you do this."
Obi-Wan unwrapped himself from the warm, comfortable body and pushed himself up.
"It is better that you get this out of your system here instead of in 'sabre practice, where one or both of us could be injured," he reasoned. "In this sort of situation we both enjoy ourselves--"
"I didn't enjoy it."
Kenobi looked down at Anakin and raised an eyebrow. Anakin looked away, squirmed a little.
"Ok, I did," he admitted. "But Master, please... can we just have normal sex for once?"
"Anakin, you know I can't do that," said Obi-Wan, almost seriously.
"Master! This really upsets me and you're acting like its--"
"Shh, shh...." Obi-Wan stroked Anakin's hair, kissing him gently to quiet his shrill, fretful complaints. "I understand, Anakin. I do. And I promise, tonight we will have completely normal sex."
Anakin eyed him a little dubiously.
"Normal sex?" he asked.
"That's right."
"No pain, or blood, or anything like that?"
"Nope. Just sex. We'll even make out before-hand."
Anakin furrowed his brow, thinking.
"Promise?" he asked finally.
"I promise." Obi-Wan did his best to look sincere.
Anakin sighed.
"Alright," he said.
"Although--" Obi-Wan began.
Anakin narrowed his eyes.
"Well, I just.... There is something I'd like for us to try. Not now, of course. Later, in a few days."
"What," growled Anakin.
"I won't tell you," said Obi-Wan with a smile. "I'll just have to push you to it." He winked.
Anakin groaned. The hunted never got a break.