Work Text:
Anakin had a secret. When he was alone, he pretended to be someone else... someone younger. He didn't really know how this had started. Some part of him, faced with the constant stress of his training and a lack of deep emotional connection to anyone after he joined the jedi order, had broken. Facing his days... facing his peers and master was difficult. He felt a perpetual pit of black tar between the entrance of his throat and the bottom of his stomach, and his brain seemed to never quiet. Mostly, he could distract himself in the pits of some droid or speeder. But when even that was too much, he stopped trying to do anything useful at all.
It had started quite pathetically at around eleven years old. After a particularly thorough scolding from Obi-wan, curled up alone in his bed wishing for his mom more than anything, he started sucking his thumb between sobs. He realized this actually did calm him down, somewhat, and he tried to pretend in his head that there were no Jedi, no prophecy, and no expectations. He just wanted to be a little boy in his mother's arms. When the sobs and fantasies subsided, he was left with a hot embarrassment that he needed this at all.
For years, this was a desire he met with deep shame and only succumbed to at his lowest moments, and coming back to it felt like a relapse. He had less shame about the self-inflicted marks that littered the rest of his body; at least those served a purpose and symbolized an effort to actually correct his horrible behavior. But there was nothing but shame to be found when he thought about sucking his own thumb, sobbing into his pillow, and thinking about someone taking care of him like he was a toddler. He eventually stopped thinking about his own mother and started to dream about the people he really wanted attention from: Padme, Palpatine, and especially Obi-Wan. The mere fact that Obi-Wan was so often the source of stress and rejection in his life made the fantasy all the more alluring.
As Anakin developed, the fantasies tipped from pathetically innocent to wholly deviant. While the scenario wasn't inherently arousing to him, it was difficult for him to relax and feel safe enough to masturbate any other way. Despite his shame, Anakin eventually caved to his own curiosity and desires and started to actually act out his fantasies in private. It started small: a set of blocks he could assemble and disassemble into a toy speeder. He hid this from Obi-wan, of course. The disappointed face he imagined Obi-wan making at the revelation that his fourteen-year-old padawan was still so pathetic and immature as to need toys was something he could not risk, especially since Anakin knew they were more than just toys.
He couldn't get in the proper headspace with his Jedi apparel on, so in those low moments, he would sit on the floor in his underwear with a blanket around his shoulders and try to quiet his sniffles with thumb-sucking and toys. The shame was hard to bear, but often propelled him into arousal anyway. In his imagination, Obi-Wan watched over him, praised and cooed over his ship, and pet his hair. Eventually, almost involuntarily, he would imagine Obi-wan coming behind him, holding him, kissing his temple, cheek, and eventually his mouth. Anakin would drop his toys in a haze, and Obi-wan would begin to touch his groin. Anakin would close his eyes and mimic the motions on himself, imagining Obi-Wan whispering in his ear about how his baby needed to be taken care of. It was hard to look Obi-Wan in the eyes after one of these episodes.
Anakin was not really sure what to make of himself now in his adulthood, with an array of coping mechanisms that he would throw himself off of a roof before admitting to anyone. He was an adult man, with a wife he couldn't bare to be vulnerable with and a regimen of soldiers risking their lives when he so much as pointed in the wrong direction on the battlefield. But in private, in a locked duffle bag in his room, he had various instruments of intense shame to get him through to the next morning. Depending on the flavor of self-loathing, he would reach for the 'medical kit' to try and punish himself and correct his mistakes, or the soft, colorful items that let him forget for a few moments what it was like to be Anakin Skywalker. Today, after some mild strategic failures, no messages from Padme, and a particularly cold shoulder from Obi-Wan, he just wanted to pretend like he was small and someone cared.
The amount of locks he put on the door to his quarters was truly ridiculous. A knob lock, a deadbolt, a numeric padlock, and a door shim all kept the outside outside and the inside inside. If there was some sort of medical emergency, he would rather die than risk anyone barging in on him like this.
With the door secure, Anakin retrieved the duffle bag from his closet and unlocked the zippers. His collection had grown substantially over the years, but what he brought with him on missions was limited. He had a simple puzzle, his favorite speeder building blocks, and a stuffed loth cat. He also had a collection of clothes now, and he pulled out soft blue shorts, thigh-high socks, and a baby baseball tee with green trim and a picture of an astromech in the center. His height and muscles made it difficult to find clothes like this that fit, but he liked how tight the shirt and socks were on his skin.
The last to come out of the bag was a large, soft blue blanket he laid out onto the floor... and his pacifier. Probably the most embarrassing part of the whole ensemble. As embarrassing as it looked, sucking on something just seemed to help more than anything else, and just how embarrassing this whole charade was really helped him get into the vulnerable headspace he needed to let his guard down. With everything set out onto the blanket, plus some extra pillows, Anakin made himself a small plate of snacks, cut into bite-sized pieces, changed his clothes, and started to enter that younger headspace.
In his imagination, Obi-Wan laid on the bed behind him reading some pretentious book, supervising as he played and focused on his toys. There was some guilt, that in his fantasy he was with Obi-Wan and not his wife, but Padme made him nervous sometimes. He didn't think she would ever enjoy a version of their relationship that looked like this; completely different from the man she fell in love with. It felt natural to imagine Obi-Wan in this role. It was, in fact, an extension of what he had craved from Obi-Wan for over a decade. Sometimes he did imagine Palpatine, as the chancellor was an extremely comforting figure, but Anakin was horny and the thought of doing anything sexual with the chancellor made him nauseous.
For half an hour, Anakin did nothing but suckle on his pacifier, eat his snack, and play with his toys. He laid on his belly and kicked his feet in the air as he did so. He felt the stress and fear permeating the back of his mind start to melt away. Here, with his soft toys, his blankie, and imaginary daddy, everything was okay. Eventually, when he wanted to move on he imagined Obi-Wan coming to lay with him on the floor and pet his hair. A drowsiness started to settle over his eyes.
"How are you, sweetheart?" the imaginary Obi-wan said softly. He was wearing the kinds of soft, comfortable clothes Anakin had never known him to wear, and his hair was loose and fell in front of his handsome face. His smile was warm and genuine.
"Tired" Anakin mumbled around his pacifier, into the otherwise silent room.
"Roll onto your back, little one. You did so good, eating all of your food and behaving. Let daddy put you down for a nap, hmm?" Before Anakin obeyed the imaginary command, he sat up and grabbed lube and a silk bag from his bedside table. His left hand was too uncoordinated to bring him to completion in this state, and he hated cleaning lube off of his glove, which he didn't wear in little space anyway. Plus, not touching himself directly helped with the fantasy. From the bag, he pulled out a clear and squishy sleeve. He coated the stroker in lube and laid onto his back, a pink blush creeping over his face and upper body; warmth curled and pet through him. The embarrassment and shame were long forgotten, and he felt light. He rested his head against a pillow and held the plush loth cat with his left arm.
"Yes, Daddy." Anakin shed his shorts, and slowly rubbed the lubed stroker on the underside of his penis. Anakin really never had a father, but he had always wished Obi-Wan would fill that role and guide him the way he wanted. He chose not to analyze how the sex stuff fit into all of that, both now and at any other time.
Closing his eyes and sinking back into the fantasy, Obi-Wan leans his head between Anakin's legs. Obi-Wan strokes his thighs and socks, and kisses his stomach, where his thighs met his ass, and the inside of his thighs, too. Gripping and massaging them, Obi-Wan rubs his cheek and beard on the inside like he's marking his boy. Then, with a soft smile, Obi-Wan finally leans down and kisses his penis. Anakin matches the thought by taking the head of his cock into the toy, and begins to gently tease it.
In his fantasies, he never actually gets hard. It seems too adult, and he wanted to stay as soft and plush as possible. He liked the thought of Obi-Wan taking him entirely into his mouth and massaging him softly like that. He knew it wouldn't feel as good in reality, but he didn't have to live in reality right now. Fantasy Obi-Wan trailed his hand up Anakin's shirt to caress his chest and play with his left nipple. Anakin followed suit, setting his plush aside to caress his torso.
The fantasy went on like that for awhile. Obi-Wan petting his tummy, kissing and sucking his penis, and gripping his leg. It was so vivid in Anakin's mind, nothing else could reach him. Obi-Wan swallowed and sucked around him, occasionally running his tongue under Anakin's foreskin. He couldn't help but leak into his daddy's mouth, small whimpers of apology coming forward. It just felt so good. When he involuntarily thrust upward, he was stopped by the broad hand Obi-Wan had spread over his lower stomach. The pleasant warmth was reaching its peak, and outside of the fantasy Anakin began to stroke himself faster.
"Daddy... daddy I can't. Something is happening." Anakin feigned ignorance to himself about knowing what an orgasm was, though he couldn't bring himself to actually say this line out loud.
Obi-Wan pulled off of his cock with a soft pop, letting it flop limply back onto Anakin's stomach. "It's okay, my love. Let it happen. You're safe here with daddy." He punctuated that sentence with another wet kiss to the strip of skin between his groin and his sock. "Cum for me, sweet thing. Precious boy" Obi-Wan took him back into his mouth and resumed his ministrations. The imagined look on Obi-Wan's face was enraptured, like there was no where he would rather be and no one he would rather be with.
Anakin could not hold out any longer. His face and chest felt so hot, and everything felt so warm. With a few more pumps, he was cumming all over his sex toy and stomach. He couldn't help but whimper loudly around his pacifier. The hand under his shirt kept it away from the cum leaking out of the end of his toy. Fantasy Obi-Wan took Anakin's soft cock deep in his throat and swallowed everything, never breaking eye contact.
Anakin was completely fucked out. He took a napkin he had brought with his snack to wipe the cum off of his belly, imagining Obi-Wan wiping him down with a warm wet cloth. "There we go, dear heart. Are you feeling good? Relaxed?" Anakin could barely shake his head yes. He pulled the blanket around himself and his loth cat, and slid into his cot. He could feel the heady dream-like frame of mind lifting, but he tried to settle into sleep before the weight of everything came back.
Still maintaining the fantasy, Obi-Wan tucked him into bed, curling up behind him to nuzzle and kiss his neck. Obi-Wan trailed his hand over the raised marks on Anakin's forearms, completely unfazed and endlessly comforting. "I'll let you fall asleep without brushing your teeth, just this once. My cute baby, all sleepy and sweet. Goodnight, my love. I'll be here, keeping you safe. I love you, Anakin. My padawan." And with that, Anakin drifted off into sleep for a few hours, until an alarm forced him out of bed. Throwing every gentle part of himself back into its hiding place, Anakin desperately steeled his mind against acknowledging the truth: that both the general on the battlefield and the boy in the soft clothes were two parts of the same person.
