Chapter Text
Vader ran down the hall, lightsaber in hand and snarl on his lips. It was bad enough that his incompetent troopers had allowed rebels onto his ship, but for it to happen when Obi-Wan was on board? When it was so rare that Obi-Wan and he were ever on the same side of the galaxy? Vader was enraged. Murderous, his subordinates would say.
The moment he heard the word “rebel”, Vader crushed the throat of the messenger and stalked from the bridge. He didn’t even need to consult his comms or the Force to know where the rebels were headed. It was the reason Obi-Wan was there in the first place; they’d uncovered another of Palpatine’s hideouts and, in turn, a new collection of powerful artifacts. The power radiating from the crates was heady, practically making Vader’s eyes cross if he got within arm’s length of them.
It was those damn informants the rebels kept gathering within the Empire. Every time he felt one out, another seemed to take their place.
The vault door was closed, locked without the handprint of either Vader or Obi-Wan, but that was inconsequential in light of the still burning hole that’d been carved into the metal.
Jedi.
Vader stepped soundlessly through the hole as he took inventory of the two children the rebellion had sent to their deaths, a Jedi boy Vader was all too familiar with and the Mandalorian girl he often travelled with. Spectres five and six of the Lothal Ghost Crew. Vader knew from Thrawn’s reports that the boy was the same age as Luke and Leia. His first instinct was to tempt them to his side, but he knew from the plight of his inquisitors that they would sooner die. And die they would.
They were foolish, as children often were, leaving their backs exposed to the entrance to the room. The Jedi’s shoulders had begun to slowly tense, feeling the darkness radiating from Vader, but the instinct didn’t stop him from hurriedly shoveling artefacts into the bag hanging from his shoulder.
Vader ignited his saber, flooding the room with a blood red glow.
He had to admit that the children had good reflexes, even if they were lacking in sense. It was only an instant after his blade was lit that Vader was moving it to block blaster shots. He’d expected no less from the Mandalorian, but the Jedi’s skill with his aim was impressive, especially considering the not quite spherical artifact that took up most of his grasp.
The realization that they would not win the fight came faster than it had the last time they’d faced him. The Jedi looked to each side, finding that the only way out of the room was past Vader. He narrowed his eyes and threw the object in his hands.
By reflex, Vader caught it, not wanting damage to come to a potentially valuable artifact. The moment it was in his grasp, however, he felt like he was without restraints in a ship spiraling straight downward. His vision swam, a piercing ache ripping through his skull, and Vader was brought to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rebels running past him with their loot, but he couldn’t even convince his fingers to release the cursed artifact let alone to strike out at his foes.
A strangled groan escaped his throat and didn’t stop, the sound only growing more violent as his pain increased. The ground underneath him felt liquid, but he wasn’t sure if it was just in his head or a product of the artifact’s abilities. His surroundings were blurring together into a bright green light, and Vader wondered if that was what it was like to become one with the Force. He didn’t expect it to be such a beautiful color. Not for someone like him.
There was a shout, something that sounded like his name, his true name, before something heavy and warm wrapped itself around his shoulders, and everything was encompassed by the green light.
When Vader opened his eyes, the pain was blissfully gone. He was lying on his back, draped over what felt like a set of legs. He heaved himself up into a sitting position and, behind him, saw Obi-Wan doing the same.
“Are you alright?” Vader was quick to ask. “What happened?”
Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, brushing his hair back. “What happened is that I’ve decided to find out how to bring souls back from the Force just so I can murder Palpatine again,” Obi-Wan griped.
“The artifact,” Vader recalled. It had transported them off the ship and to some planet not immediately familiar to him. There was a sunset sky above them, over a dozen moons already visible on the horizon. Below them was a sand road, to their sides tropical trees and rocky mountains that, by the scent of salt in the air, led to an ocean. If he squinted, Vader could see a town about two klicks down the road, feel the dull buzz of a small population. “We should start walking,” Vader said, nodding towards the town.
They stood, and almost instantly Obi-Wan’s hand found the small of Vader’s back, spreading warmth even through the layers of Vader’s cape and robes. “Are you alright, dear one? I was so worried.”
Vader cast his gaze up at the sky. There were times to feel anger, where the power of it would fuel his abilities, but walking with his husband was not one of them. He took a moment to try to release his rage into the Force. It would serve him later. “Physically? Fine. Mentally? Compiling all the ways I can punish Thrawn for his incompetence. I instructed him to deal with those Lothal rebels cycles ago.”
“And spiritually?” Obi-Wan asked with an amused twist to his lips.
Vader nudged their shoulders together. “Feel for yourself.” There had never been a moment in the last decade where their bond had been closed, but Vader widened the gap, spreading his mind like arms eager for an embrace. Obi-Wan entered without hesitation, filling every corner and curling himself in and around Vader. The flames of anger that still burned at the base of his thoughts were lovingly coaxed into embers.
They walked the two klicks in silence, communicating through casual touches and the relay of half formed thoughts through their bond. It was nice to, at the very least, be together. As much as they tried to arrange otherwise, leading an empire didn’t exactly leave much free time, especially between their family of four. The twins were safe in the Imperial Palace, being trained and watched over by Ahsoka, and though they wouldn’t waste time in returning to their duties, they certainly weren’t about to turn away from the unexpected moment of peace.
The sun had set by the time they arrived at the town, but the numerous moons glowed so brightly that everything was flooded with clear white light. The buildings were the modestly built structures of a fishing town, the thrum of technology Vader had grown so used to between star destroyers and Coruscant almost entirely absent. It was easy to spot the cantina the townspeople must flock to after they finished with work, music escaping from the open doorway and out into the street. There was no better place to find information.
It became immediately apparent that the small town did not receive visitors often. Nearly every head turned towards Obi-Wan and Vader, taking in their dark clothing and the sabers at their hips with mixtures of curiosity and suspicion. Obi-Wan paid them no mind, and so neither did Vader, the pair situating themselves confidently at the bar. Whatever planet this was, they were its emperors.
The bartender, a human woman, approached them with a pathetic attempt at hiding her curiosity behind professional attentiveness. “What’ll y’all have?” she asked, eying their clothing. Obi-Wan’s tunic was probably the most expensive thing in the room if not on the entire planet.
“A glass of your best whiskey. And something sweet for him,” Obi-Wan said and then waved his fingers. “On the house.” The bartender blinked a few times, repeated his statement, and turned to start on their drinks.
Vader nudged Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I like whiskey too,” he pointed out.
Obi-Wan nudged back, a sly smile on his face. “I know. But I also know you prefer things on the fruitier side.” Vader rolled his eyes.
Two glasses were placed in front of them, Obi-Wan’s a short thing of brown liquid and Vader’s tall, purple, and garnished with a little umbrella. He flicked it off the rim and onto the floor with barely contained distaste. “If I see holos of this, I’m telling Leia you’re the one who stepped on Lola,” Vader threatened even as he took a sip of the drink. It tasted better than any whiskey ever could.
Obi-Wan ignored him in favor of making calculated conversation with the bartender. “Our nav computer failed, you see,” he said. “We had to stop to gather our bearings. You’d be doing us a favor, darling, if you could tell us this planet’s name.”
She nodded eagerly. Obi-Wan’s charisma was never ending, Vader thought with fond exasperation. He probably could’ve gotten the drinks free without the use of mind tricks if he’d really wanted to.
“Pillio, in the Jinata system,” the bartender said.
Vader froze mid sip. He’d just been on Pillio not five hours before. The entire planet, including all of its towns, had been put under heavy imperial control in preparation for the excavation of Palpatine’s observatory. He’d thought it was a bit strange that no one seemed to recognize their Emperors, but he’d put it off to the town seeming out of the way enough to not keep up with the news. If this was Pillio, though, none of these people should have even been allowed out of their homes.
Obi-Wan took the information in stride, showing none of the confusion that was rushing through Vader. He hummed thoughtfully, stroking a finger along the line of his beard. “We aren’t too far from Coruscant, then,” he mused. “That’s good.”
“You Senators?” a nearby Nautolan asked without even trying to hide that he was eavesdropping.
Obi-Wan swirled his glass without looking up. “Generals, actually.”
The bartender cocked her head to the side and said, “I thought only Jedi were Generals.”
“Shows how much you know,” the Nautolan said with a grin that was far too confident for someone who was wrong. “Thanks for your service, Generals.” He raised his glass. “To the Republic.”
After a beat, Obi-Wan and Vader raised theirs as well. “To the Republic,” they said in unison.
“What the fuck,” Vader said once they’d made their exit from the cantina. “What the fuck, Obi-Wan?”
“It is troubling,” Obi-Wan mused.
Vader grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder roughly, stopping him from walking. “Troubling?”
Obi-Wan put a comforting hand to Vader’s cheek, a touch that Vader couldn’t help but lean into, and stroked their minds together. “We will sort this out. We always do.” A slight smile broke out across his lips, not the practiced thing he’d given the bartender but the genuine smile he reserved for loved ones. “Now, my dear strategist, what’s our plan?”
Vader sighed even as he took on his own smile. “Well, first, we steal a ship.”
~~
Anakin stood behind Obi-Wan’s chair and slightly to the side, trying to pay attention to the Council meeting going on in front of him. It was an honor to be there, a privilege few Masters, let alone Knights, were allowed. It was just Anakin who was trusted enough to give input and listen in. Even when they talked themselves in circles, even when they made decisions that had Anakin burning with rage and frustration, Anakin tried to be worthy of being there.
And yet he was finding it increasingly difficult to pay attention. There was… something, a presence in the Temple that didn’t belong. It set Anakin’s hair on end, made his fingers twitch towards his belt.
He didn’t realize that his eyes had narrowed until Yoda said, “Feel it as well, you do, Skywalker.”
Anakin blinked as every eye in the room turned to him, including Obi-Wan’s. “Master, what is that?” he asked. The presence was getting steadily closer, and as it did, more faces around the room lit up with confusion and then concern. None of them had any more knowledge of what was happening than Anakin.
The presences were hauntingly familiar, Anakin realized. They appeared in the Force the same way Dooku and Ventress did, radiating the power of the Dark side. But even more than that was the familiarity of the presences themselves. They were signatures that Anakin had known almost all his life, twisted in ways that made him feel sick but still themselves.
The double doors opened, and two figures stepped into the Council chambers.
Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw Obi-Wan go rigid in his chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests. In front of him, Anakin saw the same stiffness, the same white knuckles in another Obi-Wan. And at his side was another Anakin.
The two Anakins were dressed almost identically – robes and tabards and cloaks and glove of black leather and fabric. Beyond that, though, the other Anakin was covered in startling differences. He looked about 15 years older, faint lines around his mouth and eyes and a thicker layer of bulk to his shoulders. His hair had grown long enough to be swept back in a bun, stray curls framing his face. The scar over his eye had faded some, but there was a new one over the curve of his opposite cheek.
The Obi-Wan had changed even more. He looked to have the same number of added years, but the time and likely stress had painted streaks of gray in his otherwise auburn hair. He’d traded in his tan Jedi robes for an expensive looking tunic and cape of black and dark red.
Both of their eyes were a swirling mix of gold and yellow.
Windu was the first to break his open-mouthed stare. “What is the meaning of this?” he snapped.
“I would have expected a kinder greeting from an old friend,” Other Obi-Wan said pleasantly. “Where have your manners gone, Mace?”
“This is a Separatist trick,” Master Mundi said.
Other Obi-Wan opened his palms flat in a show of innocence. “If you would hear us out, you would see that there are no tricks. And we are not Separatists.” The last part was said with a scowl Anakin almost never saw on his own Master.
Master Yoda waved a hand. Other Anakin began speaking, his voice strong and confident. “We are from another dimension approximately 16 standard years ahead of you. It was a Force artifact that brought us here, but it remained in our own time. We believe that the Jedi are in possession of the current version of it. You will help us.”
“And why would we do that? You’re Sith,” Mundi bristled.
“Our presence here is disruptive to the balance of the Force,” Other Obi-Wan said. “As Jedi, is it not your mandate to restore that balance?”
Anakin cut in, his voice shaking. “Why are we having this conversation? They’re Sith. We should be locking them up and interrogating them.” Windu put a tired hand to his head, and rage flared in Anakin’s chest. Of all the times for the Council to be unreasonable, they picked when two Sith had just walked into the Temple? There were Younglings about, Anakin’s own Padawan on the grounds, and no one had even stood from their chairs. Anakin fingered the ignition of his lightsaber. A fight would be better than this. Anything would be better than staring into those yellow eyes, the evidence that there was an Anakin out there who fell to the Dark side and likely dragged his Master down with him.
Anakin realized his mistake in speaking when Other Obi-Wan’s attention turned to him. “I do always appreciate your passion, darling,” Other Obi-Wan drawled, and Anakin barely managed to hold in a chagrined noise at the endearment. “I’m afraid the Council can do no such thing. It isn’t illegal to utilize the Dark side of the Force. If it were, Master Windu at the very least would have some explaining.”
Casting his gaze to all the Masters around him, Anakin saw only the same tight expression. No one spoke out in disagreement.
Windu cleared his throat. “The artifact you’re looking for. It’s a dodecahedron? With symbols on each side?” Other Anakin nodded. “We have it, but it isn’t kept in this Temple. It will have to be sent for, which will take until tomorrow. In the meantime, we would prefer it if you did not leave the grounds.”
The Sith looked at each other for a long moment, communicating through a bond. Finally, Other Anakin nodded. “We will agree on a single condition. Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker” – Anakin did not at all appreciate the emphasis put on his lesser title – “will be the ones presiding over us. No one else.”
“Honored, your request will be,” Yoda said.
“I don’t think-“ Obi-Wan spoke up in a strained voice, but he was quickly cut off by other Anakin, who wore a dangerous smirk.
“Come now, the Council has given you a direction. Wouldn’t want to be disobedient, would you, Obi?”
Obi? Anakin hardly ever felt comfortable addressing Obi-Wan to his face without the title of Master, let alone by Obi.
Obi-Wan looked equally unraveled but acquiesced with a sigh. “The visitor’s wing is empty at the moment, yes? Anakin and I will relocate there for the time being, along with our… guests.”
Anakin opened his mouth to protest when he heard Obi-Wan’s voice across their own bond. They might know who Sidious is. The words were compelling on their own, but it was the shock more than anything that drove Anakin to follow Obi-Wan from the Council room. They’d formed the bond when Anakin had first been taken under Obi-Wan’s tutelage, as most Padawans and Masters did, but, after weeks of Anakin begging and sulking, he’d convinced Obi-Wan to allow them to keep it even after Anakin’s knighting with the stipulation that it would only be fully used in times of emergency. That Obi-Wan was using it then, in front of the other Council members, was a testament to how shaken up he was.
Anakin barely remembered to bow to the remaining Masters in the room before the door shut behind the four of them.
“That was very cute,” Other Obi-Wan said into the silence of the hall. “Nostalgic. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve been around Jedi. I’d forgotten how… repressed everything feels.”
Obi-Wan ignored the bait, and it was only the lingering presence in Anakin’s mind that kept him from snapping. “Hurry up, please. It would be difficult to explain should anyone see us all together.” Obi-Wan’s voice was curt and polite, and he walked with his head high, his eyes never drifting from the spot immediately in front of him. Anakin admired his control as much as he was frustrated by it.
When they arrived in the visitor’s wing, Obi-Wan brought them to an apartment at the far end of the hall. It was one of the bigger ones, containing a kitchen, living room, two bathrooms, and four bedrooms. Other Obi-Wan immediately made himself at home, sprawling on the couch as if it were a throne, his knees more than shoulder width apart. It seemed that some things never changed.
“Comm Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said quietly to Anakin. “Ask her to pack bags for both of us for three days. That should be enough to accommodate the two of them as well.” Anakin nodded and sent the message, trying to ignore how close Other Anakin had sat to Other Obi-Wan. It was a big couch; there was no reason for their thighs to be touching like that.
There was a knock at the door only a handful of minutes after Ahsoka responded affirmatively to the message.
“Master, what’s going on?” she asked when Anakin opened the door. “Why are you on a mission inside the Temple?”
“Is that Snips?” Other Anakin asked, poking his head over the back of the couch. Anakin stepped out into the hallway and tried to quickly close the door behind him, but a black boot made its way into the gap just in time. Other Anakin shoved his way out into the hall. “Snips!” he said, sounding so much like Anakin himself that Anakin got a shiver down his spine. “I forgot you used to be so small.” He reached out to tug at her Padawan braid, but Anakin had his lightsaber out in an instant.
“Touch her and you’ll lose the whole arm,” he snarled.
“I would love to see you try,” Other Anakin said with a near feral grin, only retracting his hand when both Obi-Wans appeared at the door. “Don’t worry,” he said to his version of Obi-Wan. “I’m playing nice.”
“What the fuck?” Ahsoka said. Her eyes were wide, panic coming through her end of the training bond. Her grip shifted around the straps of the bags she was holding as if she was contemplating dropping them to take up her own lightsabers.
Obi-Wan put a hand to Anakin’s shoulder. “Let’s all calm down. Ahsoka, you might as well come inside. Thank you for bringing these.” He took the bags from her and led the way back inside the apartment. Anakin waited for the Sith to go before him, and when he did finally follow, it was close behind Ahsoka. He knew Sith. He knew how they corrupted and destroyed. Anakin would rather die than let that happen to her.
The Sith resumed their position on the couch, somehow even closer to each other than before. If making Anakin uncomfortable was somehow part of their evil plot, it was working. He could hardly even look at them without feeling like he was going to explode out of his skin, and that was the most bearable part. What was unbearable was the vicious jealousy that burned in his chest. If he’d known that all he had to do to get affection from Obi-Wan was fall to the Dark side, he would’ve done it ages ago.
No, he couldn’t joke like that. Not when the threat of those words sat not five feet away from him with raised eyebrows and knowing smirks.
Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest defensively even as she took up a position slightly behind where Obi-Wan and Anakin stood. The Sith made her nervous, more so than Ventress or Dooku ever did. Anakin picked apart the feeling, sensing that yes, some of it was sourced in that there were enemies in the Temple, her home, but part of the anxiety was directed inward as if she was worried not about what the Sith could do to her but about her own reaction to them.
“Explain. What are those?” she demanded testily. It was a testament to how on edge both Obi-Wan and Anakin were that they allowed her to get away with her cursing and the attitude.
Other Anakin pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Is that any way to talk about your dear friend?”
Ahsoka scowled at him, and without the bags, she was free to grip the hilts of her sabers threateningly. “You aren’t Anakin,” she said, and Anakin was honestly kind of touched by how angry she was on his behalf.
“You’re right. I’m not,” Other Anakin agreed easily. “My name is Vader.”
“For ease, you may call me Ben,” Other Obi-Wan said.
Anakin was at least familiar with Ben. It was Obi-Wan’s code name, the one he used when they were undercover or when communicating over insecure channels. Vader, though, Anakin could recognize for what it was.
“Darth Vader?” Obi-Wan asked, mirroring Anakin’s thoughts. His eyes were unreadable, and he’d long since raised the walls on his side of the bond.
Vader smiled and leaned further into Ben’s side. Ben lifted an arm around his shoulders.
“It’s time for you to go, Ahsoka,” Anakin said, far too loudly for how close she was standing. He grabbed her by the arms and ushered her towards the door.
She struggled, trying to plant her feet into the floor. “Wait! You didn’t answer my questions!”
“And yet you already know more than you should.” When he got her back out into the hallway, he added, “I promise I’ll tell you once they’re gone, but for right now I need you to listen to me.”
Ahsoka’s expression softened at the influx of emotion in Anakin’s voice. “Fine,” she relented. “Just… Promise me you’ll be careful, alright Skyguy? I don’t like the look of those guys.”
Anakin punched her gently in the arm, more of a nudge than anything. “Watch it. They may be Sith, but that’s still my face that asshole is wearing.”
“Don’t worry,” Ahsoka said, walking backwards out of the visitor’s wing. “The gold doesn’t suit you.”
Obi-Wan was missing from the living room when Anakin closed the door behind him, but there were muted sounds coming from the kitchen. “There was tea in the bag,” Ben said by way of explanation.
“So what?” Anakin asked and began to pace the length of the room. “We’re just gonna sit here and drink tea like anything about this is normal?”
Ben raised an eyebrow. The expression was borderline playful, and Anakin hated how casual the two of them were about all of this. It was like they were on a vacation from whatever the fuck Sith did while Anakin was having a crisis and Obi-Wan- Anakin was afraid to know what Obi-Wan thought about all this.
“I assumed you’d have some questions. Come on, darling, I know you’re more than a little curious.”
Anakin scowled but took the opportunity he was presented with. “How did you fall? Why?” he asked.
Vader’s smirk dropped off of his face, replaced by a dangerous look. His eyes burned. “I don’t like to talk about it,” he said darkly.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like to share quarters with Sith, so it seems only fair that we’re both uncomfortable.” He needed to know why. If he knew why then maybe he could stop it.
With the arm around Vader’s shoulders, Ben began tracing his fingers over the line of his throat. Apparently, that calmed Vader, which good for him because watching it happen nearly killed Anakin. “Sidious,” Ben said, never taking his eyes off Vader, “killed someone very dear to us. He tried to turn Anakin against me. I killed him, and, well, anger, hate, suffering, all that.” He turned his gaze to Anakin. “The galaxy is better off with us in charge, I can promise you.”
He'd known that Sidious had to have been out of the picture, the rule of two wouldn’t allow it, but hearing his role in their fall made Anakin feel sick. They still hadn’t uncovered Sidious, and so this future was still on the table for both him and Obi-Wan. “Who is he?” Anakin asked desperately. “Tell us who Sidious is, and we can end this whole war.”
That terrible smile crept back onto Ben’s face. “Maybe if you’re a good boy,” he said, and Anakin’s cock hardened slightly in his pants. “Will you be a good boy for us, Anakin?”
“Master,” Vader griped and elbowed Ben in the side, but even his cheeks had turned a vivid pink.
“What?” Ben asked, and while his tone was innocent, his gaze was heavy on Anakin. “I know you want to. Don’t you, dearheart?”
“Do not,” Anakin managed despite feeling like the air in his lungs had turned to sand. “Do not call me that. You don’t know anything about me.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. He walked into the living room, placed two teacups on the coffee table for Ben and Vader, and, the remaining two held precariously in one hand, grabbed Anakin by the wrist. Anakin couldn’t tell by his expression if he’d heard what Ben had said, but he must have. “It’s late. Mediate with me before bed.” He nodded at the Sith. “We will see you in the morning.”
Anakin followed because it was either that or be left alone again with those bastards and their stupid smirks. He’d choose his Obi-Wan over them any day.
As soon as the door closed behind them and they were safely tucked away in the bedroom Obi-Wan had likely reserved for himself, Anakin pulled his wrist from Obi-Wan’s grasp in favor of pulling savagely at his hair. “How can you be so calm about this? Master, how can you make tea and mediate when they- when we-“ Anakin’s breathing sped up, his head beginning to spin and his knees feeling weak.
Obi-Wan led them to sit on the bed. He gently took one of Anakin’s hands and placed the palm on his chest over his heart. With each steady rise and fall of Obi-Wan’s chest, Anakin’s hand followed. Reflexively, Anakin matched his own breaths to the rhythm. They hadn’t done this since Anakin had first come to the Temple, back when fits of panic would overtake him almost daily. Obi-Wan’s presence had always been a balm to him, both then and now. Just sitting together, listening to Obi-Wan breathe and feeling Obi-Wan’s heart beat under his fingertips, was enough to make Anakin nearly forget everything that had happened that day.
Nearly.
“How?” Anakin asked again, his voice cracking halfway through the word.
“I can be calm,” Obi-Wan said, “because I know that they are not us.”
“But they are.” Anakin’s brows furrowed.
“They have our names and our faces. They may even have some of the same memories as us,” Obi-Wan allowed. “But they are not us. Their choices are not our own. Anakin, I have never in my life met someone as purely good as you. I know that you will not follow a path that leads you into Darkness.”
A tear slipped down Anakin’s cheek. He averted his gaze, removing his hand from Obi-Wan’s chest in favor of curling in on himself. “How can you know that when I’m not even sure of it?” he asked quietly.
More than anything, more than wanting to be a good Jedi, more than wanting even to be a good person, Anakin wanted to make his Master proud. He wanted Obi-Wan to look at him with a sparkle in his eyes, to wear one of his real smiles, the ones that had become so rare since the start of the war. If Obi-Wan knew the truth about the anger that lived in Anakin’s heart, he would never look at him the same again. He’d be disgusted. He would leave, and Anakin would fall apart without him.
The truth was, Anakin couldn’t see a life for him in the Light without Obi-Wan.
There was a hand under Anakin’s chin, pulling his face up to look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Obi-Wan’s voice was hardly a whisper. “You have always been blind when it comes to seeing yourself. You trust me, don’t you?” Anakin nodded as best as he could without dislodging Obi-Wan’s hand from his face. There was no hesitation in the action. Trusting Obi-Wan was as ingrained in him as the Force. “Then trust me when I say that you are good, Anakin. You are a good man, a far better man than me.”
They were close. Another two inches and their noses would be brushing. “Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathed, feeling a torrent of emotion well up beneath his ribs. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear Obi-Wan say. Just a little closer and Anakin would have everything he’d ever wanted since-
Obi-Wan pulled away abruptly, clearing his throat and averting his eyes. “Are you feeling better?” he asked. Anakin nodded mutely. “You should get some rest then, my Padawan. Keep your saber close. And take your tea.”
“Of course, Master,” Anakin said and stood from the bed with his cup, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He opened the door to leave but turned before he did. “You too, Master. Get some rest.”
Ben and Vader were absent from the living room, though the bags Ahsoka had brought were open and the teacups were rinsed out in the sink. Anakin grabbed his own set of sleep clothes. He took a sip from his cup and found it still pleasantly warm, causing him to smile down into it. Obi-Wan always made his just a little hotter, knowing that Anakin often got distracted before he could finish it all. He wondered if Obi-Wan had done the same for Vader.
Anakin took another sip on his way to the last of the empty rooms. Except. Except two of the rooms were empty, not one. The room furthest from the one Obi-Wan had picked radiated light from behind the door and the energy of two lifeforms while the middle two remained dark. He told himself, in an attempt to preserve his sanity, that they were probably just talking, meditating even, before splitting into separate rooms. He ventured into the room next to Obi-Wan’s before he could think more on it.
After changing and finishing his tea, Anakin laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body was tired from stress, his limbs heavy under the blanket, but his mind was wide awake. There were Sith just a wall away from him. The only time Anakin had ever been casually so close to a Sith had been when he and Obi-Wan were imprisoned with Dooku, and that had been under duress with death threats flying between the three of them every couple of minutes. This was borderline underwhelming, and that worried Anakin more than any animosity could. Were they planning something? Trying to get Anakin and Obi-Wan to lower their guards before attacking? There were Sith in the Temple. There was nothing stopping them from leaving the apartment and going to the archives, going to the creche.
Anakin, came Obi-Wan’s voice from inside his head. Breathe. Everything will be alright. There will be time to worry once you’ve gotten some sleep.
Anakin’s cheeks flamed. He hadn’t meant to project his thoughts so loudly. He sent back a quick apology before turning on his side and closing his eyes. He tried to ignore the golden ones he saw behind his lids as he drifted to sleep.
~~
Anakin woke up with the immediate understanding that he was not in his own bed, though that was nothing new. What was new was how comfortable he felt despite the foreign sheets; the feeling of home surrounded him, soothed him. A hand carding through his hair drew a contented hum from his throat, and Anakin shifted closer to the warm presence he felt next to him.
“Oh, darling,” a soft voice said. “How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
Anakin rubbed the back of his hand at his eyes and, opening them, squinted into the darkness of the room. He could just barely make out a familiar silhouette sitting on the edge of his bed. “Obi-Wan?” he mumbled, the word heavy with sleep.
Obi-Wan laughed and leaned down to press a light kiss to Anakin’s lips. Anakin blinked, feeling his heart stutter in his chest. “Am I dreaming?” he asked. It felt too real to be a dream, but this was too close to Anakin’s fantasies to be anything but a figment of his imagination.
He lifted a hand to trace along the curve of Obi-Wan’s cheekbone, delight bubbling up in his stomach when Obi-Wan tilted his head into the touch. When Obi-Wan leaned back a little to look at him properly, a strip of light from outside the window illuminated half of his face.
Where there should have been a crystal blue eye, there was only gold.
“I suppose that depends on whether you want to wake up,” Ben said as Anakin jolted away with enough force to bang his head on the wall. Anakin reached under his pillow for his saber, but the spot was empty. Ben gave him a knowing look. “I moved it to the other room. If it helps any, I left mine outside as well. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“What are you doing?” Anakin’s heart hammered. He resisted the impulse to raise his fingers to his mouth, to touch the place Ben had kissed him. Why had Ben kissed him? Anakin was pretty sure that’d been real. His lips burned like it was real.
Ben slid further onto the bed, paying no mind to the way Anakin flinched harder into the wall against his back. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Anakin scowled even as his cheeks flamed. “Seems like you want to do a lot more than talking.”
Again, Ben laughed. “I think you’ll find that I can multitask,” he said. He brushed his fingers over Anakin’s knee. “Would you like me to show you?”
Nothing had ever been as difficult for Anakin as pushing away from that touch. He skirted around Ben until he could stand from the bed and move himself to a safer position on the other side of the room. “What are you doing?” he repeated. None of this made any sense. When Master Yoda had warned that the Dark side was seductive, Anakin hadn’t thought this was what he meant. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play here, but it won’t work.”
“There is no game, Anakin. I just want you.” At Anakin’s disbelieving scoff, Ben stood and took a step towards him. His gaze was soft, patient. “You give him too much credit. I’ve always been good at lying, Anakin, even before I became a Sith. I would sneak out of our apartment, and we would both know in the morning that I’d spent the night in someone else’s bed.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Anakin choked out. He and Obi-Wan didn’t talk about sex, not beyond a brief lecture on protection when he was 15 that Anakin was too flustered to pay attention to. They didn’t talk about Obi-Wan’s list of past one-night stands that kept getting bigger. They didn’t talk about the friends with benefits thing Anakin had going on with Padme. Those things were private, and, beyond that, Anakin didn’t think he’d survive hearing about all the people Obi-Wan stuck his cock in, not when those people seemed to be everyone except Anakin.
“But what you never knew,” Ben continued despite, or maybe because of, Anakin’s pleas for him to stop, “is that the men I fucked had gold curls and long legs and didn’t mind when I accidentally said the wrong name. I would put them on their stomachs and push their faces into the sheets and pretend they were you. You don’t know how many times I wanted to just bend you over the kitchen table, Anakin, or put you on your knees to keep my cock warm while I read reports.”
While he’d been talking, Ben had taken slow steps until he and Anakin were only a scant few inches apart, the wall at Anakin’s back. Anakin could feel Ben’s breath brushing his face.
“Obi-Wan would never do that,” Anakin insisted. There was no universe where Obi-Wan could actually want Anakin like that. Obi-Wan was too far above him, too beautiful.
Ben put his palm to the side of Anakin’s face, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re right. He wouldn’t. He’s too much of a coward to act on his desires,” Ben whispered, “but I’m not.” He moved in, and Anakin was hopeless to do anything but lean his head back to give Ben the room to kiss his neck. “Here’s your choice, my beloved. If you tell me to leave, I will, and you can wait for your Obi-Wan to put aside his moronic values, which he won’t on his own. Or, you can let me take care of you like pretty little things deserve.”
It wasn’t a choice. It couldn’t be, not with Ben’s tongue tracing the underside of his jaw. Anakin wrapped his arms around Ben’s shoulders to pull him closer, and Ben acquiesced with a groan, pressing their bodies together in a dirty grind.
“That’s my good boy, Ani,” Ben said. He shoved his thigh between Anakin’s legs, and Anakin moaned at the friction. “You’re just so touched starved, aren’t you? Can’t ever feel complete without a cock inside you.”
Anakin wrapped a hand in Ben’s hair and pulled hard. “Stop talking.”
“You can’t lie to me,” Ben said in a teasing voice. “I’ve been fucking you for years now. I know everything you like done to you, everything you like to have said to you.”
Anakin stilled the grind of his hips. His eyes went wide with horror. “Everything?” he squeaked. No, he couldn’t, not everything. There were kinks that Anakin was sure he’d die with embarrassment if his Master ever found out about them.
Ben leaned in and slotted their lips together, giving Anakin no time to adjust before he was licking into Anakin’s mouth. Anakin collapsed all of his weight onto him as he let himself be consumed by the kiss. Ben’s hands quickly pushed under Anakin’s sleep tunic to press bruises into his hips and over his ribs.
They had to part to pull the fabric over Anakin’s head, and Ben took that opportunity to growl out, “Be a good slut for Daddy and get on the bed or else I’ll take you up against the wall.”
Anakin keened as he tried to stop himself from cumming in his pants. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his life. Ben took a step back so that Anakin could stumble away from the wall and throw himself onto his back on the bed. His mouth was dry as he watched Ben stalk towards him like a predator, golden eyes full of hunger.
Ben maneuvered himself over Anakin with so smoothly that Anakin thought he had to be telling the truth about him and Vader. The way he parted Anakin’s thighs, fit their hips together, propped one forearm up next to Anakin’s head so the other would be free to twist Anakin’s curls around his fingers spoke of an ease that could only be captured by someone who’d done the exact same movement dozens, hundreds of times.
“So pretty,” Ben said, and the reverence in his voice sent shivers down Anakin’s spine. “The things I want to do to you. Where should I start, do you think?” He smoothed a hand down Anakin’s bare chest and stomach to the hem of his pants where he started to undo the ties. “I could eat you out, open you up on my tongue before my fingers. Or I could tie you up, fuck your throat.” Ben’s eyes lit up when he wrapped his hand around Anakin’s cock, and Anakin had to bite his lip bloody to stop himself from waking up the entire Temple. “Oh, I know what I want. Vader will be jealous. I don’t do this for him often; his cock is usually caged.”
Anakin’s cock pulsed at the words, dripping fluid over Ben’s fingers. “Oh, you like that idea? I wish I had my toybox with me. I’d lock you up until your cock turns into a clit and milk your prostate until you black out, maybe keep going even after that.”
“Is- Is he wearing it now?” Anakin asked, absurdly fascinated by the mental image of his Sith self with his cock shoved in a durasteel cage.
Obi-Wan raised an interested eyebrow. “No. Does that disappoint you, Anakin? Were you hoping to fuck him too? I think he’d let you if you asked nicely enough.” He chuckled. “I think you wouldn’t have to ask if he found out I had this in my mouth. I think he wouldn’t give you a choice.” Ben squeezed the head of Anakin’s cock mercilessly.
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted.
Much to Anakin’s relief, Ben kneeled up between his legs and dragged his pants completely down, leaving Anakin naked and spread out on the sheets. “Call me by the right name, sweet boy, and I’ll suck your cock.”
Anakin couldn’t think, not with Ben’s hand toying expertly at his balls, but thankfully he didn’t need to think to call out the name he’d been wanting to call Obi-Wan since he’d heard it in a holoporn when he was 17. “Daddy,” Anakin begged. “Daddy, please, I want it so bad.”
“You have no idea,” Ben said, “how wrapped around your finger you have me.” And then he was leaning down and licking up the side of Anakin’s cock. It was only Ben’s quick reflexes that kept him from getting kneed in the head when Anakin jerked at the sensation. “Hands in my hair, darling. You can be rough if you’d like.” Anakin did as he was told, and it wasn’t a moment later that Ben fully went down on him, taking his entire cock into his mouth like it was nothing.
He held on to Ben’s hair for dear life, could barely process how soft the auburn strands were when Ben was curling his tongue around the length one second and poking the tip of it into the slit the next.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” Anakin warned, torn between wanting it more than anything else in the galaxy and wanting to wait until he had Ben’s cock inside him.
Ben made the decision for him. He kept his mouth moving, even took it easily when Anakin lifted his hips, and when Anakin shouted and came, Ben took it all in his mouth. While Anakin was panting, struggling to recover from the orgasm, Ben moved up the bed until his face was directly over Anakin’s.
“Open,” he said, and because Anakin was feeling euphoric and pliant, because it was Obi-Wan’s face and voice delivering the request, Anakin obeyed instantly. His lips parted, and Ben spit Anakin’s own cum into his mouth. “Swallow,” came the next order, and Anakin did that too without question. Ben groaned and kissed him for the good behavior, seeming to revel in the taste of cum that they shared.
When he pulled back, a strand of saliva connected their lips, and, fuck, Anakin already felt ready to go again. Ben seemed to know it too because he dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a tube of bacta and then began stripping out of his nightclothes.
Anakin watched with rapt attention as each new bit of skin was revealed. He’d seen Obi-Wan naked before, but that had only been for bathing, changing, binding wounds. Never with beads of sweat dripping down his chest, a light flush to his skin, his cock hard and wet.
“Fuck me,” Anakin begged.
Ben grinned. “Soon. I have to open you up first.” He squeezed some of the bacta out on his fingers and rubbed them together to warm it. “Have you been fucked here before, Anakin?”
Even after everything they’d done, Anakin still blushed as he nodded. “Padme,” he admitted. She’d introduced a strap to their sex life almost as soon as they’d had one.
At the mention of her name, Ben’s face changed for the barest fraction of a second, too quick for Anakin to register what the emotion had been. Anakin was easily distracted from it by Ben’s finger pushing at his hole and slipping inside.
“If you belonged to me,” Ben said in a maddeningly conversational tone as he stretched Anakin’s entrance, “you’d already be open from the last time I fucked you. I’d have a plug to fill your slutty hole in between getting my cock. I’d take it out to fuck you and put it back in so you could hold onto my cum all day, so you would never forget who owns you.” He’d worked himself up to three fingers while he was talking, pressing them roughly into Anakin’s prostate over and over again.
“Already do,” Anakin mumbled as his eyes rolled up into his head with pleasure.
Ben cocked his head to the side. “What was that, pretty thing?”
“I- I already do. I already belong to you. I always have,” Anakin panted.
“Fuck,” Ben hissed, his face darkening with the first signs that he was as desperate for this as Anakin was. He pulled his fingers from Anakin’s hole and wrapped them around his cock to cover it with bacta. “Beg for it. One more time, Ani, beg for my cock.”
“Please,” Anakin said obediently. “Please, fuck me. I want your cock so bad. I feel so empty, Daddy. I want you to fill me up, cum inside me, ruin me for any cock that isn’t yours. Obi-Wan, Daddy.”
Ben lined his cock up and pushed in. He didn’t give Anakin any time to get used to the sensation, thrusting all the way in and quickly establishing a punishing rhythm. “So tight,” Ben groaned. He grabbed Anakin under the knees and pushed his legs up until he was bent nearly in half. “Good boy, just like that. Take it.”
Taking it was just about all Anakin could do. His every nerve was lit up, his thoughts circling only around how it felt to have Obi-Wan’s cock inside of him after so many years of wanting it. Anakin didn’t have a bond with Ben, at least he didn’t think, but he could feel a pleasure that wasn’t his swirling in the Force around him, nudging against his mind, amplifying his own.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whined. “Please.” He wasn’t even sure anymore what it was he was begging for. Ben understood, though, tightening his grip on Anakin’s thighs enough to leave bruises and quickening his pace.
Without warning, Anakin shouted and came untouched, shooting ropes of cum over his chest. Ben didn’t slow in the slightest, continuing to fuck Anakin into overstimulation. He brought one hand up to swipe through the puddles of cum, massage it into Anakin’s skin, and occasionally shove his fingers into Anakin’s mouth for cleaning.
“Where do you want it, Ani?” Ben grunted out. “Inside you or on your face?” It was an impossible question. “Ani,” Ben said again and twisted one of Anakin’s nipples painfully.
“Inside,” Anakin said after a moment. “Please, please, inside. I want to feel it even once you’re gone.” It was the only thing he’d have left, the last remnant of an Obi-Wan who wanted him. He wanted to keep that feeling for as long as he could.
Ben stretched himself along Anakin’s body, pressing their lips together in something that could be considered a kiss only by the barest of definitions. “Ani,” he breathed, and Anakin could feel his cock pulse inside him as he came. Anakin dug his nails into Ben’s back. Maybe if he held on tight enough, the moment wouldn’t ever end.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their panting. Then, Ben kissed Anakin proper, pulled out, and wrapped Anakin up in his arms as he collapsed onto the bed. Anakin’s heart clenched at the feeling of being cuddled, of Ben’s lips pressing softly into his hair.
“You’re not my Obi-Wan,” he whispered, both to Ben and to remind himself.
“No,” Ben said, his expression knowing. “But there’s fewer differences between him and I than you think. He loves you, Anakin, more than anything. He’s just too stupid to tell you.”
Anakin looked up into Ben’s eyes. They were blue. “Promise?” he asked, even as he knew he wouldn’t believe the answer.
Ben smiled, a sweet thing Anakin hadn’t thought a Sith could be capable of. “Promise. Now, sleep.”
Drifting off was easier than it should’ve been.
~~
When Anakin woke up again, it was fully morning, and there was a vague shuffling around him. He opened his eyes just in time to see the door to his room drift towards mostly closed without shutting all the way.
There was a pleasant ache between his legs, a smattering of bruises on his thighs and hips. The cum had been cleaned from his chest, leaving those marks as the only proof that the memories slowly coming back to Anakin were real and not just an incredibly vivid dream.
It was difficult to pull himself out of bed, but curiosity was eating at him. Had Ben gone back to Vader? Did Vader know? The whole Temple would know if the walls weren’t sound proofed, Anakin thought to himself, remembering with crippling amounts of shame how loud he’d been.
He was brought out of his thoughts by a thud sounding from outside his room, like something heavy had hit the wall. “What did you do to him?” came the muffled voice of… Obi-Wan? Ben? He couldn’t tell.
“Don’t worry. I was far gentler than you were with my Vader,” was the reply, and that was definitely Ben.
Anakin, wide eyed and heart racing, rushed through the process of putting on the mostly unslept-in nightclothes and exiting his room.
The moment he stepped foot into the living room, a metal arm wrapped itself around his throat and he was pulled back against a hard chest. “Shh,” came his own voice from behind him. Anakin shivered at the breath on the back of his neck. “Just watch.”
Anakin blinked uncomprehendingly at the scene in front of him before he processed it and his cock hardened in his pants. It seemed Vader agreed, if the bulge pressed against Anakin’s ass was anything to go by.
A shirtless Obi-Wan had Ben pinned to the wall, lightsaber in hand and the end of it wedged under Ben’s chin. Their faces were close enough that all it would take was a heavy breeze and they’d be kissing. “If you hurt him…” Obi-Wan said darkly.
Ben grinned. “You’ll what? We both know you’re a coward, Obi-Wan. And because you’re too much a coward to start the fight I know you want, I’ll do you a favor and start it for you.” Ben raised a hand and, so quickly that Anakin couldn’t tell whether he’d even used the Force or not, moved Obi-Wan’s lightsaber into his own palm. He threw it across the room, and then he threw a punch that landed brutally against Obi-Wan’s jaw.
Anakin tried to step forward, to intervene before they killed each other, but Vader held him back. “I said, watch,” Vader growled, tightening his hold around Anakin’s neck enough that Anakin’s breathing became labored. “Here, I’ll even help you.” Then he shoved his free hand into Anakin’s pants and wrapped it around his cock.
Anakin had enough sense to recognize how weird this situation was, that he was getting a hand job from himself while watching two Obi-Wans wrestle, but he also had possibly not enough sense to recognize why any of that was wrong. Especially when Vader’s hand felt good, having all the familiarity of his own touch while maintaining the sensation of someone else’s. Especially when Obi-Wan looked hot as hell, and Anakin would’ve given a lot in that moment to be between him and Ben.
Anakin moaned, leaning his head back on Vader’s shoulder but keeping his eyes open to watch the fight. Obi-Wan pulled Ben to the floor, his fist wrapped in Ben’s shirt and nearly ripping it off his shoulders. Behind him, Vader ground his cock into his ass, and it was second nature for Anakin to push back against it, feel the hard ridge of it against his covered entrance. He was probably still loose from taking Ben. If Vader just pulled down the back of his pants, he could—
Obi-Wan managed to get his lightsaber back in hand, and his finger had just brushed over the ignition when Vader whistled. Like dogs, both men snapped their heads over to, for the first time, see the picture that Anakin and Vader made. The saber slipped from Obi-Wan’s grip. Any animosity between them vanished in an instant, all their attention on the front of Anakin’s pants where Vader’s hand was visibly stroking.
“Stop,” Anakin rasped, his breathing still hindered. It was one thing to lay on his back and take Ben’s cock, half concealed by the darkness of the bedroom. It was another to be groped in the middle of the living room with two sets of eyes locked on him. Maybe if he had more time to think, to work through everything that’d happened and all these new feelings, then maybe he’d enjoy the exhibitionism of it. He had liked having Ben’s eyes on him last night. He knew he would love Obi-Wan’s.
Before Anakin could talk himself into changing his mind, Vader scoffed. “Pathetic,” he sneered and released Anakin just in time for Anakin’s cock to leak enough precum into his pants to leave a visible spot.
Anakin stumbled forward, almost falling to the floor before he managed to right himself. He nearly fell over anyways when he turned and caught his first glimpse of Vader.
Vader’s throat was a mess of bites and finger-shaped bruises, some of them even looking fresh. The red marks continued all the way down to the collar of his tunic, which was very obviously taken from the bag of Obi-Wan’s clothes. If Anakin had been reconsidering letting Vader fuck him before, he was definitely turning the thought over in his mind then.
Except. Ben had been with Anakin last night and had only left a couple seconds before Anakin had gotten up. There was no way he could’ve left those marks on Vader, not when one of the bite marks was smeared with wet blood. That meant- That meant that Obi-Wan-
They were all saved from having to deal with that by a knock.
Ben was the first to recover, untangling himself from Obi-Wan, straightening his clothes, and opening the door to the apartment. On the other side was Mace Windu, box in hand. He took in the sight before him – Obi-Wan on the floor, Vader looking like he’d been mauled by a loth-wolf, Anakin with a very obvious stain on the front of his pants – and Anakin could pinpoint the exact moment that Windu’s headache set in.
“I am not going to ask,” Windu said in a tight voice, “because I do not want to know. If one of you tells me, I will personally ensure that you are excommunicated from the Order.”
“We’re not part of the Order,” Vader pointed out.
Windu’s eye twitched.
“Tea?” Obi-Wan asked and, before anyone could answer, fled to the kitchen.
“The artifact is in here,” Windu said and stepped into the apartment to place the box on the table. “Make sure that no one touches it except the Sith. Just-“ He sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Just come get me when they’re gone.” Just as soon as he’d arrived, Windu turned and left, muttering something about Yoda having the right idea about retirement.
Once the door closed, Obi-Wan returned hesitantly from the kitchen, showing no signs of any attempt at making tea. He and Anakin stood in awkward silence, avoiding any eyes.
Ben approached Obi-Wan and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, to which Obi-Wan looked at with thinly veiled disgust. “You aren’t me,” Ben said, his tone strangely comforting. “You don’t have to become me. But you should at least try to be yourself.” The disgust softened a bit.
Anakin looked at Vader to see if his double had any advice of a similar caliber. Vader just shrugged. “I don’t know, you should jerk off more. What do you want me to say?” Ben gave him a look, and he sighed. “Fine. Learn to ask for help when you need it. Because you do need it. You’re a mess. Good enough?” he asked Ben. “I want to go home. This one doesn’t know how to fuck me yet, Obi. And I miss our children.”
“So you did fuck him,” Anakin said to his Obi-Wan, his voice colored with disbelief despite all the evidence that suggested just that.
At the same time, Obi-Wan said, “Children?” And yeah, alright, that was a good point. Anakin didn’t think he’d been so out of it last night to miss that Ben and Vader had kids. The thought made him feel absurdly happy, though. He and Obi-Wan would have kids one day. They would have a family, something permanent and stable and forever that Anakin could come home to.
“Ahsoka’s watching them,” Vader said with a shrug, as if that was the part that Obi-Wan was concerned about.
Anakin smacked Obi-Wan’s arm. “Did you fuck him?” he asked again, only a little desperately.
“We can talk about that after we restore the balance,” Obi-Wan said in his lecture voice, and Anakin rolled his eyes even as he held back a frustrated groan. It was harder to take lectures seriously when he had the very clear memory of an Obi-Wan spitting cum into his mouth just a couple hours ago.
Anakin turned to the Sith as Ben picked up the box and carried it to where Vader stood. They each held a lightsaber, summoned from whatever safe place they’d kept them overnight. “Goodbye,” Anakin said softly. He’d grown kind of fond of the Sith, though he didn’t think he’d ever admit that without at least two orgasms first.
“I will say,” Vader said thoughtfully. “I enjoyed riling him up. We should come back here.”
Ben knocked their shoulders together. “And I enjoyed fucking someone who actually listens when I tell him to do something,” he bit back, all tease. Before Anakin could point out that he and Obi-Wan could still hear them, Ben got a particular look on his face, the one that Anakin associated with the formation of a rare Kenobi brand dumb idea. “Say, along the way, someone identified the wrong artifact,” he mused. “This one, unlike the one that brought us here, works both ways instead of just one. The Council is never as certain of these things as they claim to be. If you told Mace that the artifact was transported to our timeline along with us, he would have no reason to doubt you.”
“Lie to the Council?” Obi-Wan’s face contorted in disapproval.
Vader blinked his long lashes at Obi-Wan. “Come on, Obi. Don’t you want to see me again?”
There was a pause, and then Anakin just barely kept from jumping as an arm wrapped itself around him. “I think I already have all I need,” Obi-Wan said, and the certainty in his voice made Anakin’s heart stutter.
Vader rolled his eyes, but a pleased smile had made its way to his lips. “I’ll rephrase. Don’t you want to see me continue what I started with your Padawan?”
“I-“ Obi-Wan stuttered, the hand he had on Anakin’s waist tightening.
“We’re keeping it,” Anakin said with finality.
Ben gave them a small bow. “Until next time then.” He placed his hand on the artifact, and the room lit up with a bright green glow.
“Wait,” Vader said, his eyes going hard with some kind of new determination. “Don’t trust Palpatine. Listen to Fives.” And then he was grabbing onto Ben, the light turning so blinding that Anakin had to shut his eyes.
By the time it died down, the artifact was sitting innocently on the floor, and Ben and Vader were gone.
“Palpatine?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Later,” Anakin said. Palpatine was the last thing he wanted to think of right then. “You- You fucked Vader. You fucked me.” Obi-Wan’s face twisted into something that looked too much like guilt for Anakin’s taste. In an instant, all the confidence he’d had when he’d put his arm around Anakin vanished. He opened his mouth, but Anakin cut him off before he could say anything. “Don’t you dare apologize. Just… Tell me what I mean to you. Please.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly, and there was fear in his eyes, but there was also the deepest sincerity Anakin had ever seen in him. “Anakin, dearheart, you mean everything.” He took a fortifying breath. “I love you.”
Anakin laughed wetly and pulled Obi-Wan into an embrace to hide the tears in his eyes. “I love you too,” he confessed. “So much, Obi-Wan. More than I ever thought I should.”
Obi-Wan’s hands were spots of warmth on Anakin’s back, the scratch of his beard against his neck a welcome burn. He could feel Obi-Wan’s smile on his skin. “And all it took was two horny Sith lords,” Obi-Wan said wryly.
Anakin pulled back a little, just enough to look at him. “Speaking of that,” Anakin said, “Vader didn’t… do anything embarrassing did he? Because if he did, that doesn’t reflect on me.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and the way he slid his hands up to touch gently at Anakin’s hair was detrimental to Anakin’s health. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It would be a waste of your energy” –Anakin furrowed his brow in confusion—“considering I spent several hours hearing all about your daddy kink.”
Anakin groaned, slumping all of his weight against Obi-Wan in defeat, but even as Obi-Wan laughed at his misery, he made certain that Anakin didn’t fall.