Chapter 4
The apartment atop the Nebula Tower was home. He imagined that neither he nor Anakin had dreamed of ever having a real place to call home like the one generously assigned to them by the Jedi Council. Towering over the magnificent skyscrapers of Coruscant the view afforded an unparalleled view of the expansive cityscape below. Obi Wan sat uneasily in his chair near the main window and gazed out on the endless array of lights that spanned well into the horizon.
Leaning back in his chair he listened closely for the sounds of Anakin preparing for bed. Upon their arrival he had immediately dispatched the boy to his chamber. Anakin had angrily stumbled his way back the long hallway using the walls for support. Obi Wan was grateful that their apartment featured sliding doors as opposed to the type that could be slammed. Had the young man had an opportunity to fully express his anger in a tangible way Obi Wan feared that their neighbors would have thought the sun had gone nova. After the boy had made a few trips to the privy Obi Wan had briefly checked to insure that he had changed into his sleep pants and settled in for the night. Finally the older man allowed himself to relax. Removing his boots he tossed them to one side and sank back into the chair trying to steal a few hours sleep before confronting this incident again tomorrow with Anakin. Waving his hand over the envir-unit he lowered the lights as his heavy lids slowly shut.
Obi Wan had slept little after closing his eyes, when he did finally doze off his sleep was troubled, the restless sleep of a man with a lot on his mind. Easing himself from the chair he removed his tabard tossing to one side as he rubbed the stiffness from his neck. He stood relishing the silence and the stillness of the darkened apartment as he watched the chaotic flurry of traffic just outside the window. He was unsure how long he had slept or how much time had passed. Touching the envir-unit again the window shades slowly shut leaving only the dim lights of nighttime mode to light his way back to the bedchambers. He paused outside the door to Anakin’s room debating whether he should check on him or go on to bed himself. Remembering how sick he had been earlier he waved his hand over the small panel next to the door, and it slid slowly open. From the threshold he watched him sleep, the only movement the slight rise and fall of his chest. The toxic effects of the liquor had relented for now, although Obi Wan was confident that he would have a dreadful hangover come morning.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed he studied the boys face in the soft chamber light. His hair was tousled by his restless sleep, even his braid had becoming disheveled by his tossing and turning. Obi Wan gently rolled in it his fingers remembering the day he had first fashioned it for the boy. The boy had been so proud of his new braid he had literally stopped every Jedi in the Temple vestibule to flaunt it. Even Master Yoda had stopped to admire it. He smiled remembering the expression on Ani’s young face as he had peeked through the crowd to him pointing to Yoda and doing a little fist pump in salute. Now the once chubby little cheeks of Ani had contoured into the lean handsome face of Anakin. With his deep brooding blue eyes and perpetual pout, it was no secret that he had drawn and held the gaze of more than one appreciative young and not so young admirer in Coruscant.
Casually Obi Wan let the back of his fingers stroke the boy’s cheek. He felt Anakin turn pressing his cheek against the caress as his sleepy eyes slowly fluttered open. Obi Wan could feel his expression soften as he gazed down on the boy.
“Anakin,” he could still sense the effects of the liquor in his Apprentice, “We’ll talk about all of this tomorrow.” With a deep sigh he added, “I’m sorry, Padawan, I was out of line earlier. I was angry and hurt. I had no right to take it out on you as I did.As a Jedi … as your Master, I should have found a better way.”
“No, Master, “The young man paused collecting his thoughts, “I’m the one who should be sorry.” He could sense genuine regret in the young man’s voice. “Sometimes being a Jedi feels like too much when I see others my own age going out and having fun. It feels unfair.”
Obi Wan felt the weight of his Padawan’s words all too well, “It is a life of sacrifice, Ani, a Jedi must free himself of the world in order to serve it.”
Dropping his gaze there was sadness in Anakin’s voice, “When is it too much, Master? When you’ve sacrificed everything? Your freedom, your childhood , the chance for a family, … love? When is enough?”
He considered his words carefully before answering. He knew that his young Apprentice, even a little tipsy, would immediately sense it if he tried to placate him. “In time … worldly things become a distant memory. I can hardly remember a life other then this … I was taken to the Temple as a baby and have spent my entire life as a Jedi.” He paused as his hand absently smoothed the blanket between them, “You’ll find that worldly things are replaced by other more spiritual things like honor, service, and, of course, communion with the Force. Besides, I’d hardly say I’ve sacrificed love.” His fingers wrapped around his protégé’s. Almost immediately he regretted his words suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of the boy. Clearing his throat he tried to change the subject, “Are you still feeling drunk?” His voice now one of concern, not rebuke.
“Maybe a little.” His eyes flashed from beneath heavy dark lashes as he covered his Master’s wrist within his own hand and eased his fingers to his own full lips. “Are you still a virgin?”
Obi Wan, eyes widened in disbelief at the touch of the boy’s lips. Blood rushed to his temples as a slight tremor passed through his whole body. Turning it palm up Anakin kissed it lightly, the tip of his tongue barely detectable as it lightly licked the sensitive flesh. Scarcely able to move Kenobi’s expression grew almost pained feeling heat of the boy’s breath on his skin. Only a small gasp escaped from his parted lips as he opened his mouth to speak. Anakin’s eyes met his seductively catching Obi Wan off guard. Guiding his Master’s hand within his own he laid it back to his cheek stroking it as before.
In that instant 32 dialects of 183 languages failed him miserably.
He could not tell if the trembling he felt was even his own as his breath caught in his throat. “Ani, please … I can’t,” he stammered breathlessly, “I …” his voice trailed off leaving his thought unfinished.
Pulling himself up Anakin reached out and touched his face studying him, “Why Master? Because it’s forbidden or because it’s what you really want?” His voice was soft but commanding, “Or maybe it’s just that you’ve never let anyone get this close to you before.”
All of his Jedi instincts told him to pull away from this boy whose words and touch were intoxicating him, but he could not. In spite of the fear that welled up inside him he wanted this … aching for what he had never known. Gently cupping the back of his neck Anakin pulled him closer. Obi Wan’s words faltered once again as his protests were barely audible, “But you’re …”
“… no longer a boy” Ani leaned in gently pressing his lips over his Master’s
Obi Wan tried to relax, to accept the warm urgency of the young man’s mouth. All he could do was react as the tip of Anakin’s tongue coaxed his lips apart. He had never felt such raw intimacy as his thoughts became lost within a sensual haze. He groaned, his body answering that of his lover as Anakin pressed his mouth over his, laying claim to him. His lips molded and moved, his tongue teased and stroked until finally delving deeply into the warm recesses of his mouth. Obi Wan returned his kiss with a fervor he didn't fully understand. All that he knew was that he needed to touch Anakin; to taste him … needed to feel his hands on his flesh. For now, in spite of all the will power he could summon, every dark unsated thought he had ever had seemed to be forcing its way to the surface.