Title: Lessons Put to Use
Series: Sequel to "Lessons Learned" by Angel Force
Author SomeJediGirl@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Archive/Distribution: Go ahead! Just promise to tell me if you like it.
Category: Slash, O/A
Spoilers: Spoilers for Lessons Learned
Summary: Anakin decides to show his master what he can do.
Warnings: Hmmm, slash? No one here cares, right?
Disclaimer: Meesa no owns these characters. Theysa belong to the Mighty Lucas. I make no moneys from this. Also, the song I quoted is owned by XTC.
Author’s Notes: This is a sequel to the awesome "Lessons Learned," by Angel Force, posted earlier to this list (and available on ff.net and at: http://www.freewebs.com/obiani/lesson1.htm ) You should probably read that first before this, just to find out how we got to this place of sexual tension. But, this can stand alone as well, all you need to know is that in the first fic, it was a threesome with Obi/Ani/Padme. This fic however is totally Obi/Ani!! It is also the first uh "real" slash I've ever written, so please be kind. Thanks to AngelForce for her wonderful story and the inspiration it provided.

~Well, would you want me in your afternoons
If I seduced you
In your mills and boon~

~Well, I’ll be the master
If you’ll be the maid
Now don’t you get those headaches
In another life.
From “In Another Life” by XTC~

“I am hopeful that the negotiations will not take long, darling. I should be back on Coruscant within a few days,” Padme told her husband as she walked over to the mirror to straighten her clothing and check her hair one final time. “What will you do while I am gone? Do you anticipate a mission of your own?” she asked.

Anakin, watching her from his seat on the bed, shook his head. “No, things in the Temple are quiet. I’ll probably just do a little training, maybe some reading up for the trials.”

Padme grinned at her reflection. “You promise? No other women?” she teased.

“No, my love,” Anakin said, then stood and looked thoughtful. “Of course, I’ll be spending a lot of time in the archives. You never know what might happen with Jocasta Nu.”

“I always thought I should keep my eye on her,” Padme chuckled. She turned to her husband, and suddenly her expression grew immeasurably sad. She ran to throw her arms around him, not seeming to care whether the action mussed her carefully arranged coif. “I hate to say goodbye, my dearest,” she said, eyes filling with tears.

“I will be in agony every moment you are gone,” Anakin whispered in her hair. “Are you sure you don’t need me along? For protection?”

Padme wiped tears from her eyes, and almost seemed to consider it for a moment. “I would love to say yes, but no. I have Dorme and Eirtae. And Artoo, of course,” she joked.

“Then I know you will be safe,” Anakin said with a sad grin. “Hurry back, my love.”

One final, lingering goodbye kiss later, Padme walked out the door, sniffling.


No sooner had the door shut behind her than Padme’s tears dried like magic. She and her two handmaidens shared a look and a giggle, then ran down the hall to put their plan into action.


No sooner had the door shut, than Anakin rubbed his hands in glee. Finally, she was gone. He dressed, and went to find Obi-Wan.


Anakin went straight to the quarters he used to share with his master. He sensed his mentor inside, and opened the door without knocking. He was stopped breathless on the threshold by the sight that met his eyes.

Obi-Wan had clearly just finished showering. He stood in the center of the room, wearing only a pair of damp pants, toweling off his shoulder-length, honey-colored hair. His shirtless, muscled chest gleamed with moisture. Anakin nearly melted.

Obi-Wan looked up, startled, at the noise and the sense of another presence. He seemed struck speechless for a moment at the look of naked lust in his padawan’s eyes. “Hello, Anakin. What are you doing here?” he managed to choke out.

“Oh, Master,” Anakin breathed. “I came to see you. I needed to see you. Alone. Finally.” Anakin moved forward swiftly and grabbed his master’s shoulders. He buried his face in Obi-Wan’s neck, inhaling the clean scent of his hair, his water-slicked skin. He felt his master tense at the sensation.

Obi-Wan’s hands instinctively moved to Anakin’s waist to return the caress, then suddenly dropped away. “Anakin! What are you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing, Master?” Anakin mumbled as he licked a rivulet of water that trickled its way down Obi-Wan’s warm neck. He felt a shudder tear through his master at the contact. “I’m resuming our lessons.”

“There is a time and a place for such lessons, my young padawan,” Obi-Wan stammered with a gasp. “Tell me, where is Padme?”

Anakin pulled back for a moment, nose to nose with his master. Green eyes met blue in an unblinking gaze. “She’s gone. On a diplomatic errand,” he whispered. “Now I have you all to myself, my teacher.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened for a moment, then he looked away. “She’s not aware of your being here, is she?” he asked quietly.

“Does it matter?” Anakin asked the corner of Obi-Wan’s tempting mouth. The nearness of his master, his hot breath blowing against Anakin’s face in gasps, and the knowledge that they were alone, finally alone, nearly served to drive him mad. “She’ll be back in a few days.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said and jerked away, breathing somewhat unsteadily. He could not meet Anakin’s eyes. “This is not right. You know how I care for you, Anakin, but you are in love with her. You are married to her. These lessons should not be undertaken without her consent.”

Anakin sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. A twinge ran through him at the thought of his wife. Obi-Wan was right. The passion they’d all three experienced together was priceless, and it would not be the same without his beloved Padme there to share it. Anakin tore his gaze from his master’s appetizing physique, and looked down at his own boots. “I understand, Master. I just want… I just need…” Desire warred with guilt, and he couldn’t continue.

“There are other ways of working off this tension, my young apprentice,” said Obi-Wan, now breathing a little more normally without his padawan’s full lips distracting him. “How about a lesson in channeling this energy into a lightsaber duel? I could use the practice.”

“Very well, master, I suppose you could,” said Anakin, stealing one last regretful look at the way Obi-Wan’s damp hair curled upon his muscled shoulders. He palmed his lightsaber and walked through the doorway that separated Obi-Wan’s sleeping quarters with their own private training room.

Obi-Wan sighed with what might have been relief or disappointment, and followed.


“I knew it!” Padme yelled at the flat, silent vidscreen before her. She’d paid a lot of money to have hidden cameras installed in Obi-Wan’s quarters, and even more for this little setup in a secret basement room of the Senate chambers. “I knew it! That little…. Ooh, I just knew that the second I left, he would think he could have Obi-Wan all to himself!”

Beside her, Eirtae and Dorme shook their heads in commiseration. “I’m sorry, my lady,” Dorme sighed. “I was so sure your husband loved you above all others.”

“Well, of course he does,” Padme said and looked at her friend in surprise. “I have no doubt of that. And I’m not really angry. Mostly amused. I guess I just needed it proved to me.”

“But, my lady!” Eirtae said. “What do you intend to do?”

Padme grinned evilly. “Blackmail, of course. They will both of them owe me big after this one. I can hardly wait.” She closed her eyes and hugged herself in glee. “Just imagine what they’ll do to make up for it, once I show them this recording of--”

“Of fighting, my lady?” Dorme interrupted. “They’re only having lightsaber practice after all!”

"Fighting? That’s it?” Padme exclaimed and turned to watch the other silent vidscreen in disbelief. She almost seemed disappointed. “But it looked like…they…oh, darn!”

“Well, milady, at least we have something pleasant to watch,” said Dorme with a grin and a wave at Obi-Wan’s naked chest. Beside her, Eirtae simply sighed and smiled a dreamy smile.


“Ungh!” The exclamation tore itself from Obi-Wan’s throat at Anakin’s determined onslaught.

“What’s wrong, Master? Getting too old to deal with a young body like mine?” Anakin taunted between grunts as he brutally swiped his green lightsaber up along the length of Obi-Wan’s blade, casting sparks at the sliding contact and forcing his master back a step.

“Not….likely!” Obi-Wan grunted in return as he quickstepped to the left and brought his blue blade around to slash at Anakin’s exposed side.

The young man easily blocked the blow but had to twist awkwardly to avoid the next, nearly lightning-fast swing that Obi-Wan brought at him from below. Anakin was stronger, both physically and in the Force, but Obi-Wan’s smaller frame had agility and experience to aid it. Anakin couldn’t also help but notice that his master’s frame was delightfully flushed and gleaming with sweat from the exercise. His momentary lustful distraction was nearly his undoing, as Obi-Wan finished with a cross-downslash that burned through Anakin’s defenses and sliced down through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Anakin yelped and jumped back, out of the reach of further corporeal or sartorial damage. “Oh, no,” he moaned, breathing hard, as he powered down his saber. “Padme’s going to kill me. She’s going to kill you. She just bought this for me last week.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it to duel in, my young Padawan,” Obi-Wan pointed out reasonably.

“I only wore it because I knew it looked good,” grinned Anakin from his safe distance as he shook his arms out of what remained of his shirt. He re-ignited his emerald blade as the filmy material pooled at his feet. “Ready to try that again, Master?”

Obi-Wan merely ignited his own saber in return.


“Aaaah! I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill both of them!” swore Padme when the charred tear appeared in Anakin’s shirt. “Does he know how much that cost?”

“It’s a shame, my lady,” agreed Eirtae. “And you had it especially made on Lorient 3.”

“I know. It looked really well on him, too,” Padme sulked. But watching the soundless vid, she remembered just how good her husband’s young, sculpted, sweaty torso looked without any clothing. She brightened up considerably. “Oh, well.”

“Oh, well is right, my lady,” breathed Dorme at the sight of the two handsome, half-naked men leaping about energetically on the screen.


Back to Fiction Index On to Part 2