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Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh before opening the door.
Master Plo Koon was waiting for him inside. He stood with his back turned, facing the two Padawans seated against the wall. One of them would be his, Obi-Wan assumed.
"Master Plo," he greeted with a slight bow.
"Master Obi-Wan." Plo stepped aside with effortless grace. Obi-Wan's gaze immediately found Anakin and another Padawan whose name escaped him. He suppressed another sigh.
Anakin sat hunched over, glaring at the floor with a thunderous expression. His hands were clasped tightly between his knees, as though he was struggling to keep them under control. The other boy refused to look at him as well. Both of their robes were disheveled, though the second Padawan appeared to have gotten the worse end of the fight. Obi-Wan decided not to concern himself with that. One troublesome Padawan was more than enough.
"I'm waiting for Master Shaak Ti to come collect him," Plo said. "Padawan Skywalker, however, is free to leave."
"Thank you, Plo. And my apologies for this situation. I imagine I'll owe Master Shaak an apology as well." A sheepish smile tugged at his lips as Anakin pushed himself to his feet with obvious reluctance. Only then did Obi-Wan notice the bruising. The left side of Anakin's face was swollen enough to promise a spectacular black eye by morning. The other Padawan hadn't moved, but from what Obi-Wan could see, his injuries looked even worse.
Plo merely nodded.
Obi-Wan left the room, with Anakin trailing behind him like a scolded dog.
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"Again?" The word was out of Obi-Wan's mouth the moment the apartment door slid shut behind them. "I can't believe this."
Anakin crossed the room and dropped onto the sofa, every line of his body rigid with tension. "It wasn't my fault."
Obi-Wan took a seat at the dining table across from him. "It's never your fault, Anakin. Somehow it's always everyone else's."
"With all due respect, Master, you don't understand."
Obi-Wan studied him for a moment, trying to temper his own reaction, trying to remember that he was supposed to be a guide for this boy and that his primary duty was to help him become a decent person, someone useful to the Order. He couldn't lose his temper, no matter how relentlessly Anakin tested him with his increasingly troublesome behavior.
"Then help me understand." Obi-Wan kept his voice calm despite the frustration simmering beneath it. "I'm running out of ways to help you when you won't tell me what's going on."
Anakin said nothing. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the window, his eyes sharp. The Force burned around him. He was furious, and Obi-Wan knew he was remaining silent in an effort to regain control.
"Anakin, you can't keep behaving like this." He let the quiet stretch for a moment before continuing. "You're aggressive with your fellow Padawans. You're constantly getting into fights. And lately, things have started escalating." He folded his hands together. "You don't seem to be controlling your strength, and you know how dangerous that can be."
Silence answered him once more.
"I can't watch over you every moment of the day anymore," Obi-Wan said softly. "You're not a child."
There it was. The familiar twitch in Anakin's eyelid. Being reminded that he wasn't a child always put Anakin in a foul mood. Unfortunately, it had to be said out loud more often than Obi-Wan liked.
Anakin was twenty years old and somehow he was behaving worse than he had as a teenager, which was saying quite a lot.
Since Anakin wasn't talking, Obi-Wan let out another sigh that had been lodged in his throat and rose to his feet. Anakin followed him with his eyes as he crossed the room to a cabinet and retrieved a medical kit. "We need to take care of that," Obi-Wan said, settling onto the sofa beside him.
On other occasions, Anakin would have rejected any attempt to treat his injuries. He would have sprung to his feet, stormed off to his room, and slammed the door behind him. This time, however, he gave in without protest.
"That looks rather nasty," Obi-Wan remarked as he dabbed a bacta-soaked cotton pad against the swollen skin. "Let's hope this will help bring the swelling down."
Then Anakin looked at him with an expression Obi-Wan didn't see very often.
Embarrassment.
Obi-Wan knew him like the back of his hand. Anakin was proud to a fault and could always find a way to justify his actions. And when he couldn't, he accepted the consequences reluctantly, though Obi-Wan suspected he never truly stopped believing he had been right. "What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled, studying Anakin's beautiful face. He looked deeply troubled. Setting the medical supplies aside, Obi-Wan brushed his thumb across Anakin's knuckles. "Anakin, what is it?" he asked softy, concern creeping into his voice.
Nothing worried Obi-Wan more than seeing Anakin sad. Anger, he could handle. Fury, stubbornness, recklessness...those were familiar territory. But sadness and distress were different. It really frightened him.
"Dear one, you know you can tell me anything," he said softly, silently willing Anakin to speak.
They held each other's gaze for a moment, and Obi-Wan always felt almost hypnotized whenever Anakin did that. He had the prettiest blue eyes Obi-Wan had ever seen, and right now they were filled with a deep sense of distress. Obi-Wan wanted to tear that feeling out of him by any means necessary. He would do anything to make things easier for him.
Anakin's breath trembled, and his expression began to tighten again, as though his anger was starting to regain ground.
"People... I..." he muttered through a clenched jaw. He tried to speak, but the words came out as little more than stammers. Anakin let out a frustrated growl and suddenly rose to his feet, turning toward the window. "They've been watching videos about you," he muttered.
For a moment, Obi-Wan thought he must have misheard him.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"They... they've been watching videos about you," Anakin repeated, this time louder. "I want to kill them."
"Videos? What kind of videos?" Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.
Anakin clenched his fists, struggling to keep himself under control.
"Videos of you have been leaked."
"Leaked? What are you talking about?"
Obi-Wan got to his feet and moved in front of him. His mind scrambled to make sense of what Anakin was saying, but he still couldn't piece it together.
"Porn videos, Obi-Wan," Anakin snapped, fury flaring up again. He paced across the room, brushing past Obi-Wan and knocking his shoulder as he went. "It's all they ever talk about," he added, his face flushed red.
"Wait, what?"
"Oh, come on," Anakin said in frustration. He prowled around the room like a restless predator. "You have to know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Obi-Wan bristled. "If I knew what you were talking about, I wouldn't need you to be more specific, Anakin. Perhaps you should try calming down and start from the beginning."
"So you don't know?" There was already an accusatory edge to his voice.
"No, I don't." Obi-Wan's tone turned cool. "Explain."
"Some Padawans have been passing videos of you around. Porn videos. You do know what that is, don't you?" he added condescendingly.
Obi-Wan frowned.
"Porn videos?"
"Yes. Of you." he pushed.
A bemused snort escaped him. "They must be fake."
"They aren't," Anakin said flatly.
"Then either they are, or you've mistaken me for someone else." There was an almost teasing note in the way Obi-Wan said it, and it pushed Anakin's patience past its limit.
"So this is funny to you?"
"What, a bunch of boys watching pornography in the Jedi Temple?" Obi-Wan replied, amused. "I should remind you that I've spent considerably more time here than you have."
"It's you in those damn videos, Obi-Wan! Gods!" he burst out, taking Obi-Wan completely off guard.
"That's not possible," Obi-Wan replied, serious this time. "It's not me."
"Oh, really? How can you be so sure, huh?" Anakin shot back. "I've been putting up with this for weeks! If you heard the way they talk about you, you wouldn't hesitate to agree with me!" He dropped heavily into a chair, which creaked under the abrupt movement. "Every time, I want to kill them!" he snapped, slamming his fist against the table.
Obi-Wan remained silent for a few moments before pulling up a chair and sitting beside him.
"Dear one, why are you so certain they're real?" he asked softly.
Anakin stared at him as though he'd just said something deeply offensive.
"Why aren't you angry that those idiots are doing this to you, huh? Which part didn't I explain properly?" His voice rose again. "They've been passing those videos around for weeks, Obi-Wan! They talk about..." His jaw tightened. "About..." His hands trembled from how tightly his fists were clenched. "I want to kill them," he muttered.
"Very well." Obi-Wan settled back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms across his chest. "Describe them."
"What?" Anakin blurted out, looking as though Obi-Wan had just asked him to punch him in the face.
"Describe what you saw," Obi-Wan repeated, completely unfazed.
"I-I can't tell you that," Anakin replied nervous, blushing furiously.
"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked. "If anything, that's the least embarrassing part of this entire affair." He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "No one can confirm whether they're genuine except me."
There was a challenge in Obi-Wan's voice, and it achieved exactly the effect he intended.
Anakin had to prove he was right.
And that he hadn't beaten the shit out of those idiots for nothing.
"I-I mean... I only watched one or two," he lied. The anger had completely drained out of him. Now he looked like a bundle of nerves on the verge of falling apart.
"I'm quite sure you can describe them," Obi-Wan prompted.
"Uh..."
Suddenly, a barrage of flashbacks flooded Anakin's mind like blaster fire. Voices. Sounds. Positions. Sizes. Scandalous close-ups.
Fuck. Anakin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His hands dropped to his lap. "T-t-they were pretty explicit."
"Don't worry. I can handle it."
Anakin nearly choked on his own saliva. The comment had landed exactly where it shouldn't have, and suddenly he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Existing in the present was becoming increasingly difficult. His imagination had decided to betray him, and he couldn't seem to focus on more than one thing at a time.
"I-I don't think I can do this," he said. More than anything, he wanted to get up and get the hell out of this conversation, but his cock had other ideas. "Forget it," he blurted out, immediately feeling like a moron.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Then show me."
"Huh?" Anakin looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
Obi-Wan wanted to laugh, but he maintained the serious, pragmatic composure he'd carried throughout the conversation. "Well, it seems everyone else has seen what's out there about me, haven't they?" he countered. "Don't you think it's only fair that I get to see the material as well?"
Anakin couldn't argue with that logic. "I can't believe this..." he muttered after a long, heavy silence. He fumbled with his datapad before finally handing it over to Obi-Wan.
At that moment, he tried to leave, but Obi-Wan stopped him.
"Stay, please. We're not finished talking." His voice was calm, as though he were about to review a mission briefing.
Anakin didn't sit down, but neither did he leave. He simply froze where he stood.
Obi-Wan counted at least ten downloaded videos on the datapad. And yes, his face appeared in every thumbnail. "All right," he sighed, selecting one at random.
The video began with him settling onto a bed. He was completely naked. His hard cock occupied the center of the frame. His eyes flicked to the side, and a large masked man stepped into view, partially blocking the camera. They spoke in low murmurs, punctuated by quiet laughter and soft sighs.
That was his face. His voice.
Even the freckles and old battle scars scattered across his back and torso were there. The small moles on his face, too.
Obi-Wan watched in silence. The datapad was turned up to full volume.
Anakin listened to the murmurs and quiet chuckles with his eyes closed. He couldn't bring himself to look at Obi-Wan.
He listened as the murmurs gave way to loud, unabashed moans, as the laughter dissolved into wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.
Why was Obi-Wan watching it all the way through?
What was the point?
Then another video started playing.
The next one opened with Obi-Wan sitting in a chair, legs spread wide. His cock filled the foreground as he held it in his hand, stroking himself lazily. His fingers brushed through his reddish pubic hair, over freckled nipples, across the sharp lines of his abdomen. The video ended with him spilling himself across his chest with a drawn-out moan.
Anakin was sweating.
After a long moment, he realized he was still standing in the exact same spot. His hard cock pressed painfully against his clothes, and he hurried to sit down. Obi-Wan had probably noticed by now.
Hearing Obi-Wan moan—or say filthy things—was the most erotic thing Anakin had ever experienced in his life.
It was also the reason he spent so many nights lying awake.
It was too much.
"Obi-Wan—"
"Wait," Obi-Wan interrupted as another video began to play.
This one appeared to be a glory hole.
Obi-Wan was performing oral sex on what looked like a Nautolan cock. Anakin listened to the wet sounds and gagging noises, feeling his own cock throb desperately for stimulation. He lowered his hands into his lap and gently squeezed himself, trying to be discreet.
He swallowed with difficulty.
"I think that's enough," he murmured again.
The words escaped as little more than a breath, and he decided not to try a second time.
Obi-Wan noticed that all of the videos were roughly three to five minutes long. Short, but intense.
Another clip appeared.
In it, he seemed to be involved with two particularly rough men, and the final portion of the recording showed an anal double penetration. The sounds coming from the datapad were impossible to ignore.
Through the noise of the video, Obi-Wan heard Anakin's small, stifled moans.
He knew Anakin was jerking off right in front of him.
And that he had just come from barely touching his cock through his clothes.
Amused, Obi-Wan allowed him a moment to recover before pausing the video and setting the datapad on the table, frozen on a particularly eye-catching frame.
He silently studied Anakin, who was furiously red-faced, one hand covering his mouth. Sweat dripped onto the table as he struggled to catch his breath.
Then Obi-Wan slowly rose from his chair and waited until Anakin finally looked back at him.
Now profoundly embarrassed, Anakin kept his hands in his lap, instinctively covering himself despite being fully clothed.
"That isn't me," Obi-Wan said again. "It can't be me."
Anakin stared at him in silence, breathing heavily.
"Because I don't have a cock, Anakin."
"W-what?"
"They're fake videos. Whoever made them collected specific details about my appearance that anyone could have noticed at some point, especially my back and torso. That's why they look so convincing."
Anakin stared at him, speechless.
"The other half of my body has been seen by very few people," Obi-Wan said, placing a hand on his hip with an almost flirtatious smile. "People I trust," he added with a wink. "That's the part they got wrong in every single video. Therefore, it can't be me." Obi-Wan let out a laugh as though this was the funniest thing that had happened to him in a very long time.
"Y-you... you don't have a..." Anakin's expression had been completely stripped of anything remotely erotic. He looked as though he had just discovered that his Master wasn't human at all, but was actually Watto's cousin—and had somehow failed to notice until today, despite the hooves and horrifying fly wings. "W-what do you mean?"
"Exactly what you heard," Obi-Wan replied. "I don't have a cock."
"B-but—"
Anakin was about to ask how that was possible. Had something happened to him? Had his cock been accidentally cut off? Worse, had he cut it off himself? His mind was already beginning to formulate questions when he saw Obi-Wan unfasten his belt.
That made him shut the fuck up.
As though everything were perfectly normal, Obi-Wan set the belt on the table and lowered his trousers. He was wearing simple white cotton underwear.
His hands formed a V over his crotch, stretching the fabric taut.
There was no cock there.
It was flat.
Holy fuck.
V-shaped... like a... like a—
"I have a pussy, Anakin."
Angels sang in the poor boy's burning-red ears as he stared in wonder at what Obi-Wan had mercifully chosen to show him.
To him.
Anakin was seeing it with his own eyes.
Saliva began to slip from the corners of his mouth, and he didn't even bother to wipe it away. He was rock hard again.
"C-can I... c-can I see it?"
Who said that? The words had left his mouth without permission, as though some higher power had shoved them out for him, doing him the favor of not wasting what would undoubtedly be the greatest day of his life.
Obi-Wan looked at him for a moment and sighed, smiling.
"Why not?"
Anakin swallowed hard.
His eyes locked onto Obi-Wan's fingers as they hooked over the waistband of his underwear. Then his own head blocked the view, because Obi-Wan pushed them down to his ankles. When he straightened up again, Anakin let out a moan and clapped a hand over his mouth, as though that could somehow stop the sound.
A delicate patch of blond pubic hair, shaped like an inverted triangle, adorned the area.
And yes, there was no cock in sight. Only a pair of inviting lips peeking out from between his thighs. Part of his clit protruded slightly, inviting closer inspection from whoever had the privilege of looking at it.
Anakin dropped to his knees.
He barely blinked.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
How could life possibly be this good to him? Maybe it was true. Maybe Anakin really was the Chosen One after all, because this felt like the sort of reward reserved exclusively for important people.
Without taking his eyes off Obi-Wan, Anakin lowered himself onto all fours like a thirsty dog.
"Master... can I? Please? Can I?" he begged desperately, looking up at him from below.
If he says no, I'm going to kill myself, he thought.
The Jedi Master looked down at him with a flirtatious smile, as though none of this surprised him in the slightest.
"Come get it."
Anakin crawled over in a desperate hurry. The first thing he did was grab Obi-Wan's legs and bury his nose in his pubic hair, staying there for a long moment, rubbing his face against it and inhaling deeply. "Fuck... oh, gods," he kept sighing over and over.
Obi-Wan simply stroked his curls. He was already wet.
Then Anakin moved on to the main course.
He hooked one of Obi-Wan's legs over his shoulder to give himself more room. Obi-Wan steadied himself with one hand on the table while Anakin devoured him as though his life depended on taking in everything he could. He licked and licked and licked, kissed, sucked; he ate him with relentless enthusiasm, and Obi-Wan loved every second of it. Then he pushed his tongue inside him, and they both gasped at how good it felt.
Obi-Wan let Anakin eat him out for a long while, until the Padawan came in his pants again.
Only then did Obi-Wan gently pull his face away and make him look up.
"Have I finally convinced you those videos aren't mine, my dear?" he asked with a lustful smile.
"Those what?" Anakin muttered, trying to return to his meal.
"I'm older than you, Anakin. You can't keep me standing for this long," Obi-Wan joked. "Let's go to my bedroom." He added the last part before Anakin could voice a single protest.
The Padawan got to his feet immediately and dragged Obi-Wan toward the bed. He didn't want to waste a single second.
From that day on, Anakin never got into fights with his fellow Padawans again.
Who would have time for something that stupid?