Study Buddies

"Anakin, do you mind getting your feet off of the coffee table?" Obi-Wan sighed and shoved his sixteen-year-old Padawan's heavy boot off the edge of the newly-polished wood, grimacing at the dirt remnants left behind.

Anakin rolled his eyes and took the other one down on his own accord. "If you would ever listen when I asked you to remove your filthy shoes at the door when you come over to visit, there wouldn't be this problem," Obi-Wan continued, apparently intent on boring Anakin to death. "And as long as I'm at it --" He stopped and glared, arms crossed sternly across his chest. "Anakin, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Sorry, Master," Anakin said as repentantly as he could manage. He squinted anew at the book of crossword puzzles he'd swiped off of his Master's table (along with the last piece of homemade mujaberry cake that Obi-Wan had made, because his Master's cooking was infinitely better than the Grade-B slop in the Temple cafeteria). Frowning, Obi-Wan snatched it out of his hands, peering at the page that Anakin had been penciling in.

"Anakin, what self-respecting crossword puzzle creator would denote 'Mace Windu' as 'hard-headed, stubborn, mule-ish'? Obi-Wan sighed exasperatedly. "I just purchased this. How many of these have you ruined already?"

"I made them better," Anakin retorted.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Tell me, what's a six-letter word describing 'an incredibly vexing apprentice'?" He replaced the book in its designated spot on the table, flicking an invisible speck of dust off of it. Anakin watched in bemusement.

"You're usually not THIS anal-retentive, Master," he snorted. "You'd think you were expecting important company or something."

Obi-Wan straightened. "As a matter of fact, I am." As if on cue, there was a series of sharp raps on the door. Anakin watched with vague interest as his Master padded - barefoot, he noticed with a smirk - to the entryway; it quickly dwindled when the door opened to Master Siri Tachi and her Padawan - and Anakin's rival - Ferus Olin.

“Hello, Anakin,” Siri greeted, breezing through the door, Ferus following dutifully and closely behind.

Anakin narrowed his eyes at Ferus, trying to will the other Padawan to burst into flames. Ferus, for his part, was eyeing Anakin critically, as it seemed he always was. Anakin was always bothered by the way Ferus looked at him – as though he were expecting to find an apparent fault, something to run and report to Siri or Obi-Wan.

“Anakin, may I speak with you for a moment?” Obi-Wan asked casually, holding the half-door to the kitchen open. Anakin nodded and slid off the couch, warily turning away from Ferus' searing gaze. "Please, sit down," Obi-Wan waved at them both. "We will only be a minute or so."

The door swung shut with a quiet yet ominous-sounding 'click', and Anakin suddenly wished he were back in Obi-Wan's sitting area; the small kitchen and his Master's hardened expression was making him feel claustrophobic. It was worse, somehow, when Obi-Wan looked at him critically than when Ferus did it, possibly because Anakin was sure that Obi-Wan was displeased with him for some reason or another - rather, he knew he had a right to be. Ferus thought he should be able to boss Anakin around just because of his slight seniority, which annoyed him to no end.

"Anakin, I allow you some liberties in the way you speak to me and the things you do when we're alone," his Master began, cutting right to the chase, it seemed. "But you are not to be so disrespectful around other people. Master Siri and her Padawan are here to benefit you right now, and even if they weren't, I would expect no less in your decorum. You are training to be a Jedi. You are expected to behave in a manner befitting one. Is that clear?"

Anakin nodded quickly, now quite curious about what had brought this on. It was true, Ferus never seemed to tow the line - it was as if there wasn't one for him, really - but even around him and Siri, Obi-Wan usually allowed Anakin his occasional snarking. Just what were they doing here to "benefit" him?

"Thank you for coming," Obi-Wan greeted them a moment later, sitting on the nondescript sofa across from the matching one occupied by their guests. "While you are both aware of why I've contacted you, I think it will be best to go over everything together, to make sure we're all on the same page."

Anakin narrowed his eyes. It sounded like everyone else knew something he didn’t – and Anakin Skywalker did not like being out of the loop. Particularly if it was a loop Ferus was in. For some reason, Ferus always made him feel completely uninformed and left out anyway, but knowing that he really was being left out felt even worse.

“As you know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan began, leaning forward slightly, “your instructors have sent us mid-session scores for your classes.”

Anakin had a feeling he knew where this was going. Most of his classes were fine – as long as he didn’t have to sit still for a long period of time and could put what he was learning into immediate practice, he did okay. Unfortunately, not all of his classes were like that…

“And we’ve decided that it would probably be a good idea if you and Ferus became … study buddies,” Siri smirked a bit at the phrase, but continued nonetheless. “He’s doing well in his theory classes, and you’re doing well in your practical classes.”

Anakin could practically hear Ferus’ correction that he was also doing well in his practical classes, and anger flared up behind his eyes. "With all due respect, Master," he said curtly. "I can definitely study with Tru for my upcoming exams. That way, it won't have to disturb Master Siri and Ferus." He didn't even have to look at Ferus to know he was smirking; it made Anakin want to put his fist through a wall. Or Ferus' head.

"Siri and Ferus have already been contacted about this," Obi-Wan replied, his voice ever-steady but definitely tinged with annoyance alluding to their private conversation from a moment ago. "Contacting an additional party would be even more of an inconvenience. And Siri and I agree that you and Ferus could mutually benefit from working together, even outside of occasional shared missions." His Master's tone was friendly, but the underlying message left no room for argument. 'You will do this, Anakin,' it said. 'Even if it results in your killing one another in the process.'

'Only if I killed him first,' Anakin thought sourly. Then in response to his Master's actual statement: "Of course, Master. When do we start?" He pasted a smile on his face, resisting the urge to bare his teeth.

Anakin’s vision tunneled; his frustration turned his Master's and Siri’s further words into mere buzzing in his head. All he saw was Ferus smirking at him, lording this over him. Finally, they were gone, and he was alone again with Obi-Wan, who was putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You tricked me,” Anakin said, still somewhat dumbfounded. “How could you tell Ferus how I was doing in my classes? That’s an invasion of privacy!” His voice began picking up volume and intensity, and he was unable to stop himself. “Why did you go to them first? You know how he feels about me! Why couldn’t you ask Tru? Or Darra? Or somebody who doesn’t hate me?”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and gazed at him calmly. “When you are capable of rational speech, we can continue this conversation,” he replied. “For now … you’ll live.”

*


"You'll live," Anakin grumbled to himself the next afternoon, shifting his stack of books to his other arm. He knocked swiftly on Ferus' door, still able to feel vengeful that Ferus even had the gall to suggest that his room would be more 'suitable to their purposes" because Anakin's collection of droid parts and the like made his quarters "a tad cramped". If asked, he could probably find something to hate about every aspect of Ferus' existance, really, right down to the streak of gold in his Padawan braid.

Ferus looked as composed as ever as the knob twisted, greeting Anakin with a slight bow of acknowledgment. "Good afternoon," he nodded, nonplussed as Anakin stomped past him into the - unnervingly, in his opinion - spotless bedroom. Ferus' books sat neatly on the desk alongside his bed, his clothing hanging, clean and completely unwrinkled, in the closet, and the small amount of personal possessions he owned set about sparsely but meticulously. Anakin hardly considered himself a slob, but he was the first to admit that his room was lived in. He liked it that way; Ferus' quarters looked as boring and stiff as he was, he thought nastily.

Ferus shut the door, watching Anakin tersely as he plopped down on Ferus' bed, intentionally ruffling the blankets. "Where should we start?" he asked. Anakin shrugged noncommittally and he sighed. "Master Obi-Wan said you were having trouble with your theory classes like mathematics, so perhaps there."

"My Master said I wasn't doing as well in my theory classes as my practical classes," Anakin bit out icily. "Not that I was having trouble in any of them." He was still vehemently bitter that Obi-Wan had callously passed this information onto Siri to tell Ferus - just imagining them gossiping about it, about him, made his stomach churn angrily.

Ferus, on the other hand, remained unphased. "Of course. I apologize for any implications to the contrary." He sat down primly in the standard wooden chair issued to all Padawan students for their desks, flipping to a bookmarked page in his mathematics text. "The lesson didn't seem too difficult today," he commented casually as he opened his assignment notebook to a fresh page. Anakin ignored him, propping his own book up in his lap and leaning over it, as if trying to pretend that Ferus didn't exist. They sat that way for quite some time; eventually, Anakin's neck began cramping, and he rubbed at it grumpily, grunting a little as he maneuvered himself onto his stomach. Propped on his elbows, his back to Ferus, he found himself much more comfortable, able to concentrate anew on the math problem he'd been trying to solve for at least ten minutes now.

"What did you get for number seven?" Ferus asked eventually.

Anakin gritted his teeth. "I'm still working on it," he said, glaring at the woefully half-finished proof for the umpteenth time. He jumped as he felt Ferus' breath lightly on the back of his neck, and turned to find the other boy peering over his shoulder.

"You've got your order of operations mixed up in line three," Ferus offered.

Anakin noticed that he was right. "I've got it now," he snapped. He could sense the other boy's infuriating smirk a mile away. "What?"

"Nothing." Ferus shook his head, obviously attempting to smother his amusement and failing miserably. Then, apparently unable to resist: "it's just that you've been 'getting it' for twenty minutes now."

"Ten," Anakin growled. "And what's it to you? Do you get off on making me miserable? Is that your reason to exist, Ferus?" He knew he should stop while he was ahead, knew that his anger sometimes got the best of him, and that around Ferus it almost always did, but he couldn't make himself shut up.

"I know Obi-Wan thinks that we'll be best friends if we keep getting pushed on each other and that everyone expects us to get along, but I don't like you," Anakin continued, staring straight into Ferus' eyes. "I think you're a stuffy, pompous blowhard, and the only reason I'm doing this is because it was a direct order from my Master. Because contrary to your belief that you know everything about me, including my relationship with Obi-Wan, I very, very much respect him, and I don't find your constantly undermining me to him anything but proof of how much of a prat you really are." He stopped and took a deep breath, content when Ferus broke his gaze first. The other boy's face was expressionless for the most part, but Anakin thought he saw the vague beginnings of ... something flicker across it. Sadness? Anger? Shame? Did Ferus Olin even have the capacity to feel anything?

Ferus bowed his head slightly, obviously attempting to avoid Anakin’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to imply you don’t respect Master Kenobi,” he said. “I just think…” He walked back over to his chair and picked up his book. “Never mind.”

Anakin glared. Never mind? Obviously he had been about to say something scathing – did he think Anakin wouldn’t be able to handle it? Wouldn’t be able to accept whatever Ferus seemed to think of him? “What?” he demanded, voice hard. “You just think what?”

Ferus shook his head. “Forget it, Skywalker,” he replied snottily, and it took all of Anakin’s self control not to hurl himself across the room and punch the other boy in the face. He would not give Ferus the satisfaction – he would not prove Ferus right, give him yet another reason to badmouth him to his Master – to Anakin’s Master. What right did Ferus have to speak to Obi-Wan about him, anyway?

They fell back into silence, much more uncomfortable and terse than before. Anakin found he was having difficulty with another math problem, but he'd be damned if he were going to ask Ferus for help. He wasn't about to give him the pleasure. "Not getting off on anything at all is your problem," he muttered under his breath.

Ferus' gaze was delightfully frustrated as he veritably slammed his book down again. "What?"

"Nevermind," Anakin smiled sweetly, gratified to see the other boy's eyes flash. It was incredibly difficult to get any sort of rise out of Ferus, and even though it was amazingly childish of him, he couldn't help feeling proud of himself.

"No, I want to hear this." Ferus stood and crossed his arms, doing a rather notable impression of Obi-Wan. "What did you say about my 'getting off'?"

Anakin shrugged, determined to ride this high as long as possible. “I just think you wouldn’t be so uptight if…” he trailed off, smirking at the horrified expression that flashed across Ferus’ face. He shrugged again, ridiculously pleased with himself. He knew he was only fueling Ferus’ contempt for him, but he didn’t particularly care. Besides, if Ferus went whining to Obi-Wan about his behavior, Obi-Wan would have to take his side over Ferus’. That was his job.

“Oh grow up,” Ferus snapped. “You’re just mad someone is finally questioning your status here.”

Anakin felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “What?” he hissed.

"You heard me," Ferus replied, the smug superiority returning to his face. "You think you can do no wrong, that nobody can match the great Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One. It just eats at you that you're not really as invincible as you like to believe, doesn't it?"

Anakin was flabbergasted. "And what about you?" he demanded, jumping off the bed so that he and Ferus were standing face-to-face. "You constantly undermine me, not only to people like Tru and Darra, but even Obi-Wan. You act all high and mighty and like you're better than I am; you wait for me to slip up so you can run and tell my Master like a good little Padawan. Did you ever think that I don't need you to baby-sit me?" he hissed, his breath hot on Ferus' face. "I'm not a youngling in the Temple crèche, and you are NOT my Master. So why don't YOU grow up, Ferus?"

Ferus flexed his fingers, apparently fighting a losing battle not to clench his hands into fists at his sides. "You think you're immune to criticism, even from your elders. You're not, Anakin," he said, his voice dangerously soft now. "You're not perfect. You're reckless and you're headstrong. And young."

"And you're not my elder," Anakin hissed.

"I'm two years your senior," Ferus retorted.

Anakin's jaw tightened. "One year, seven months, and fifteen days," he bit out. "That hardly qualifies you to be my keeper. But I'm sure you'll make a great Master for some unsuspecting apprentice someday," he continued, the words flying more rapidly as if his tongue had suddenly been freed. "You've already got the stick-in-the-mud, sexually repressed, worry-warting routine down pat!"

“Just because I can control my actions doesn’t make me sexually repressed,” Ferus snapped, his hands clenched into fists. “Just because I don’t go around doing whatever I feel like, thinking nobody can say anything about it because I’m ‘special’ doesn’t make me the bad guy here. I’m the only one who sees you for what you really are.” His eyes flashed, and his lifted his chin haughtily. “You’re a slave who got lucky. You’re not as great as you think you are.”

Anakin snarled, a feral sound deep in the back of his throat, and he crossed the short distance between them faster than should have been possible. Before his fist could connect with Ferus’ jaw, the older Padawan had his wrist in a vice-like grip. “Let go of me,” Anakin demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

But Ferus didn't. "What makes you so much an expert on those kinds of things, anyways?" he continued in the same soft tone. "Playing whore on Tatooine?"

Anakin jerked violently, but Ferus wrapped his other hand around Anakin's braid, clenching it in his fist. "That's none of your business," Anakin growled, eyes prickling furiously, threatening to tear up. A yank to his longest strand of hair made him wince, but he wasn't going to give Ferus the satisfaction of seeing him break down. He'd rather die.

"Then what makes you think it's yours?" Ferus' hand held steadfastly to his braid. "What makes you think you're entitled to something that nobody else gets to have?"

"I'd hardly consider whatever you have to offer something I'd want to be entitled to," Anakin whispered. The grip on his hair loosened just a smidge, and it was enough; using the leverage of Ferus' surprise at his latest verbal jab, he reached forward and pulled the other boy's head towards him. Their mouths met only scant inches later, and Ferus gasped into his as Anakin shoved his tongue inside.

Ferus’ eyes were wide open in shock and … was that fear Anakin sensed?... but Anakin refused to let up. He probed the inside of Ferus’ mouth with his tongue, tasting the remnants of whatever sweets Ferus had been eating before Anakin arrived, exulting in the power he felt coursing through him. He was in control for the first time he’d set foot in Ferus’ quarters, and he was not going to give it up easily.

Ferus made a noise that sounded like it could have been “What are you doing?” but Anakin ignored it. The other boy pushed against him, forcing him to the edge of the bed. Anakin would not let up, would not give in, would not allow himself to be the one being controlled. He would show Ferus what being a slave was. He would show Ferus what it was like not to be able to control what happened to him, what was done to him. Then Ferus would think twice before insinuating he knew anything about Anakin’s past.

He gripped Ferus' wrists and surprised the other boy by twisting them around, until it was Ferus' knees bumping the edge of the bed. "Look," Ferus rasped in between a series of hard, ferocious kisses. "I-I'm sorry, Anakin. "I didn't mean to imply th-"

"Shut up," Anakin said flatly, shoving Ferus onto his back and straddling his legs in one swift movement. "You think I'm a whore?" he asked, his fingers plucking at the fasteners on Ferus' pants. "You think my life as a slave is just fodder you can use to put me in my place? To remind me of how far I've come?" He reached inside Ferus' pants, palm resting idly on his crotch. "You know nothing," he hissed.

"I said I was sorry," Ferus protested, his voice a harsh whisper. He reached out to tug at Anakin's hands, but Anakin slapped them away. "It was wrong for me to say, and I should have exercised better jud-"

"You're not exactly hating this, you know," Anakin interrupted him again, rubbing his hand purposefully over the front of Ferus' thin undergarments. He smirked nastily. "I guess you have a thing for whores, huh, Ferus?"

The tug on his braid this time caught Anakin off-guard; he let out a sharp yell and pitched forward, his free hand landing somewhere near Ferus' head so that he didn't fall completely over. "That's enough," Ferus said, more firmly and louder than before. "I don't think you're a whore. This is exactly what I was talking about, Anakin," he continued. "You don't let anything go. You fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. But for the record -" his other hand slid down Anakin's hip to between his legs, squeezing. "You don't feel like you hate this yourself."

“What can I say?” Anakin growled, leaning forward, lips ghosting against Ferus’ ear. “I guess I am a whore.” He captured Ferus’ lips with his own again, and slipped his hand down the front of the older boy’s underwear. He squeezed Ferus’ cock, swallowing the gasp the action provoked. He felt controlling and out of control in turns, and the rapid-fire changing of emotions was exhilarating.

Ferus was trying to reach up to undo Anakin’s pants, and Anakin moved slightly to allow him better access. He would allow Ferus to touch him, but he would remain the one in control. He would be the one directing the action here, would be the one in charge. He had to admit that this was a difficult resolve to maintain, however, with Ferus' hand sliding along his shaft, fingers curling and gripping the length in a repetitive motion designed to tease him. He wondered if Ferus were possibly more acclimated to these kinds of activities than he'd given him credit for - then decided that the other boy probably practiced on himself enough to make it seem that way. "Better a whore than a prude," he said brattily, his own hand fisting Ferus' cock.

"I suppose they're equally inopportune." Ferus' breath hitched as his orgasm neared, and Anakin pumped faster, wanting to make him come first. Warmth pulsed over his hand, and Ferus tugged his braid and bit Anakin's lower lip as their mouths mashed together again. Anakin's breath was ragged; he stared at Ferus' swollen lips and wondered if his were the same way. When he came, he pressed his face against the older boy's shoulder to stifle his own appreciative grunts, satisfied that at least, Ferus was not treated to the same wild, unbridled emotion in his eyes that Anakin had glimpsed for just a moment in Ferus' own. It was, he decided, what he'd been searching for all along, the confirmation that Ferus Olin was not, in actuality, a droid.

When he looked up again, Ferus was studying him, critical as always. "That was ... what was that exactly?" He seemed clinically curious now, more concerned with putting things in their correct place than what he was feeling. It was typical of him, really.

"You tell me," Anakin shrugged. He sat back and looked around, feeling satisfied that at least, Ferus' bedclothes were horribly out of order.

*


"I can't believe you," he said later, gaping incredulously at Ferus calmly sitting at his desk, working on his math assignment anew. "You're the only person in the universe who'd finish jerking somebody off and then immediately go back to doing your homework."

Ferus glanced up, looking for all the galaxy as if what had just transpired between them had been nothing but a product of Anakin’s imagination. “Well, I don’t see any reason not to finish these problems, do you?”

Anakin stared at him, frustration flitting around the edges of his consciousness. Even after a mutual masturbation session, Ferus still had to be all Jedi composure and good study habits. “Well, it kind of seems… anticlimactic,” he said, finally figuring out the word he wanted to use.

Ferus shrugged. “I told Master Kenobi I would tutor you. I see no point in not doing so.”

"You told Obi-Wan we would do our homework in the same room," Anakin corrected, his earlier rage starting to filter back into consciousness. "And we did, and then we ... look, don't you ever just take a break? I know of a couple of bars in the lower streets that'll serve us." He knew if it had been Tru or possibly even Darra, the invitation would have been looked upon as an adventure; but Anakin wasn't surprised that Ferus just looked scornful.

"Anakin, I'm not going to lie to your Master. If he asks if you've studied and you haven't, I'm not going to say otherwise."

"We could bring the blasted assignments with us," Anakin half-pleaded. He matched Ferus' raised eyebrow with his own disbelieving look, and finally gave up. "Fine. Whatever," he grumbled, and attacked his math assignment anew as if the proofs themselves had personally wronged him.

*


Anakin was more apprehensive than ever to be standing outside Ferus' bedroom door again a couple of days later, for reasons he couldn't explain. They had done ... things in there, things he hadn't expected and still didn't have an explanation for, and he hated gray areas. It wasn't a Jedi trait to deal in absolutes, but Anakin appreciated solidity, knowing where he stood with someone. His relationship with Ferus had irrevocably become even more muddled since their first day as "study buddies" than it had ever been, and it made him uneasy.

"Anakin." Ferus regarded him with the same wary expression as Anakin himself held, albeit perhaps a little more concealed. Anakin noticed it nonetheless, though, as well as the way Ferus gave him an exaggerated amount of space to cross the threshold into the room. Even the soft click of the door closing made him jump. 'Relax, Skywalker,' Anakin chided himself. 'Stop being an idiot.'

Taking up his position on Ferus’ bed, Anakin tried to calm his breathing somewhat. If Ferus could ignore what had happened, so could he. “What do you think we should work on today?” he asked, trying to sound civil.

Ferus glanced through the stack of books on his desk. “Your composition and rhetoric needs work,” he said, finally, tossing a data pad at Anakin. “Your ideas are there, but you need to learn to back them up.”

Anakin scowled. “But if I’m right, it shouldn’t matter.” This was ridiculous. Ferus couldn’t possibly expect them to simply do their homework quietly without any mention of… what had happened. Just because Ferus wanted something not to be true, it didn’t make it so. The problem was, Anakin wasn’t entirely sure how to broach the subject. It was a little embarrassing, truth be told, and it wasn’t exactly something that he felt like he could just bring up out of the clear blue.

"And your spelling is atrocious," Ferus added.

All attempts at civility flew out the window at that point. "Yeah, well," Anakin retorted, splayed across the bed, "your kissing is atrocious."

He was really starting to enjoy the flabbergasted expression Ferus donned when Anakin successfully stunned him. "Like you're one to talk," he protested.

Anakin crossed his arms stubbornly. "My kissing is fine. Your technique is all wrong. You clench your teeth so much, you might as well bite my tongue off."

"Maybe if you didn't stick it where it didn't belong," Ferus snorted. He was drawing closer to the bed now, though, the odd expression he'd worn the other day when Anakin had first shoved their mouths together clouding his eyes. "You don't always have to be so furious about everything," he commented. "It'd do you some good to relax, Anakin."

"You're one to talk," Anakin murmured, shifting slightly as Ferus sat on the bed facing him. There was an energy between them that he knew Ferus could sense; it was frenetic, unstable, and he shivered a little as he let it wash over him. "You always are. I guess that's why Obi-Wan thought you'd make a good tutor."

"I guess so," Ferus remarked, his voice equally husky. Their faces were scant inches apart now.

Of course, it was Anakin who pushed them the rest of the way. "Then why don't you make yourself useful," he whispered challengingly, "and tutor me."

This time, it was Ferus who initiated the kiss, so gently at first that Anakin wasn’t sure if it had really happened. But then the older boy’s tongue was circling Anakin’s own, and Anakin pushed his lips tightly against Ferus’, determined to make it clear he was not going to give up control so easily.

He did not like being caught off-guard, and he strove to regain the high ground, wrapping his arms around Ferus’ waist, hips rotating languidly. Slowly he began to feel himself attain the upper hand. The center of control shifted, and Anakin felt something deep and warm settle in his chest. Just as he was about to move forward even more, however, Ferus broke away, his fingers still caressing Anakin's jaw on either side of his head.

"See, you started rushing it," he noted. "You latched on like you were clinging for dear life. Just take it easy this time," Ferus urged. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Anakin thought it was an odd thing for him to say, but before he could point out that he was hardly worried about this, he was being kissed again, Ferus' fingers lightly caressing his scalp and the tiny ponytail at the back of his head. He didn't like giving anyone the satisfaction of besting him, and in this case, that meant showing Ferus that he could be just as gentle as anyone. Their lips met in a series of soft, quick kisses, culminating in gentle pressure and Ferus sweeping his tongue over Anakin's. They stayed like that for several moments, Anakin's fingers curling and uncurling around Ferus' tunic, breaking away only when they were both out of breath. "Better," Ferus panted.

Anakin straddled his hips, easing him onto his back. The older boy made to protest, but Anakin snorted and began tugging his shirt open. "Relax," he said, a note of teasing apparent in his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you." He wasn't either; but he definitely wasn't going to let Ferus think he was the only one who was going to learn something new today.

He began at Ferus’ neck, running his tongue down the smooth curves, down to his chest and the slight concave landscape of his stomach. Anakin tried to make what he was doing seem like the most natural thing in the world, tried to make himself feel comfortable with what he was doing, tried to give himself ownership of his actions. He kissed and licked his way down to the waistband of Ferus’ pants, and when he met with resistant fabric, he paused.

On the most basic, animalistic level, Anakin wasn’t even aware of what he was doing as he reached out and pulled Ferus’ pants down, freeing the erection those garments had contained. But in the forefront of his mind, all he could think of was making it look like every movement was completely intentional.

When his lips touched the tip of Ferus’ cock, he thrilled at the small noise of surprise that came from the older boy’s throat. He kissed his way down the shaft, Ferus’ breathing becoming more ragged with each passing moment. His hands clutched at the heavy blanket below him, fingers curling so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "A-Anakin, wha-?" he gasped out, his voice breathy, panicked.

"Ssshh," Anakin commanded, then mouthed the head of the other boy's cock. He sucked teasingly, pulling away and then lazily running his tongue up the underside, up to the base. He felt Ferus' upper body shift, and knowing the older boy had raised himself up on his elbows so that he could watch thrilled Anakin deeply.

"Now, for this part, a little suction is necessary," Anakin said, in a rather inappropriate impression of Ferus. The other boy's eyes narrowed, but his stern expression was rendered ineffective when Anakin dipped his head down again and wrapped his lips around his penis. He slid his mouth down the length with excruciating slowness, feeling every muscle in Ferus' body tense below him. His tongue flicked out and around the head, adding to what he knew must be an amazing sensation.

Anakin twirled his tongue around Ferus’ shaft as he once again took the entire length into his mouth. Ferus shuddered beneath him, and with a sharp gasp, Anakin felt warmth fill his entire mouth. He hadn’t quite expected it, and he nearly choked, but with as much grace as he could muster, he swallowed shallowly.

Ferus lay back on the bed, panting heavily. Anakin crawled up between his legs and leaned over, kissing Ferus gently on the lips, allowing – no, making – him taste himself on Anakin’s mouth. Ferus tried to break away after a couple of seconds, but Anakin persisted, shoving his tongue more deeply into the hot, wet cavity and massaging the underside of Ferus' jaw with his fingers.

When they finally parted, he grinned smugly, swiping at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Your turn," he announced, still smirking. "Show your tutor what you've learned today, Ferus."

Ferus' expression was mutinous, and for a moment, Anakin expected him to refuse. But they were too involved in trying to one-up each other, too far gone, now, and this concern was quickly laid to rest. Anakin's grin widened when Ferus practically kicked him off of his lap and twisted him onto his back, yanking his legs apart. "You think awfully highly of yourself," he hissed, ghosting his fingertips over Anakin's balls, making him squirm.

"You just hate it when you're not the one ordering people ar-oohhh." Anakin's retort ended in a moan as Ferus sucked his cock voraciously into his mouth. Leaning against the wall gave him leverage, and he used his freed arms to continue to toy with Ferus, tugging intermittently on his hair and running blunt nails up and down his back. Ferus' muscles quivered, and Anakin reveled in how pressing and pulling on certain parts of the other boy's head could slow down or speed up what he was doing. At one point, he felt the tip of Ferus' nose brushing against his dark bed of pubic hair and shoved his head down further, almost making him gag.

"Swallow it," he ordered as he felt his release pooling in his lower belly. Ferus obeyed, much to his delight, gripping Anakin's hips hard enough to leave marks. Wanting to do one better, Anakin ran his nails up Ferus' back once more, harder than he ever had, possibly with a bit of the Force unintentionally behind it. A muffled scream ripped out of Ferus' throat, and Anakin thrust into his mouth until he was satisfied that there was nothing more to coax out.

"That was quite good for a first effort," Anakin said cheekily, snorting when Ferus outright glared at him. "But your gag reflex is atrocious."

*


It wasn’t that Obi-Wan didn’t enjoy his apprentice’s company. It was just that… well… he would enjoy Anakin’s company that much more if it were announced, or occasionally quiet, or wasn’t prone to leaving a trail of discarded clothing all the way into the fresher.

It was this last incarnation of his Padawan’s presence that had Obi-Wan following Anakin through the apartment, picking up discarded clothing item after discarded clothing item. Finally glancing up to see whether or not Anakin even had any more clothing left to discard, he noticed something strange on Anakin’s back – ten round, evenly-spaced bruises on the small of his back, surrounded by red, irritated skin.

“What happened?” he asked nonchalantly as Anakin stripped off his final garment and stepped into the shower.

"Anakin turned around just before pulling the dark blue curtain closed. "Pardon?"

"Your back," Obi-Wan clarified, gesturing in the general direction of Anakin's nether regions. "I don't recall anything happening like that on our last mission."

"Oh, it ... there was a Temple exercise and one of the other Padawans grabbed me around the waist," Anakin shrugged. He disappeared fully into the shower. "Not a big deal. It's already pretty much healed."

"Ah." Obi-Wan set the discarded pile of clothing on the counter near the sink. "How is your tutoring with Ferus going?" he continued, raising his voice so as to be heard over the rush of the water.

He heard Anakin sigh exasperatedly from behind the curtain. "We're 'study buddies'. He's not my tutor," he confirmed.

"All right," Obi-Wan conceded. "But you didn't answer my question."

"It's going well, Master," Anakin promised. "I'm sure my end-of-term grades will give you bragging rights all across the Temple."

"I hardly expect that, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied. "While it's important for you to improve your current grades, the knowledge you gain from the classes themselves are what's most crucial. Not whether or not I have ... er, 'bragging rights', as you put it."

"Sure, Master, whatever you say," Anakin said brightly, poking his now shampoo-laden head out and grinning mischievously. "You just keep telling yourself that the next time Master Siri wins the Padawan Pool for the fifth term in a row, hmm?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Obi-Wan protested. He glared at Anakin's raised - and slightly soapy - eyebrow. "And how do you even know about the Padawan Pool, anyway?"

"You didn't answer my question, Master," Anakin sing-songed.

Obi-Wan threw up his hands. "I'm going to go help myself to the last couple pieces of home-made pie." He snorted at the whiny sound his ever-hungry Padawan made. "You'd better hurry up, or I'm going to eat it all myself." He left the fresher chuckling. He knew he was lying, but he didn't have to tell Anakin that.

*


It was obvious that Anakin's arrival at their next study session had caught Ferus by surprise. He greeted Anakin with wet, unbrushed hair, naked except for a towel bunched about his waist. "You're early," he said, seeming flustered. Obviously, he felt uncomfortable looking anything but pristine.

"And you're wet," Anakin replied, sauntering past the older boy and nudging the door shut with his foot. He plopped down in Ferus' desk chair, idly watching him.

Ferus looked decidedly out of his element, clutching awkwardly at the towel and making for his dresser to grab some fresh clothing. That was when Anakin noticed his back; "whoa, I really did a number on you the other day," he whistled, amusement creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, it really hurt, actually," Ferus frowned. "I'm sure that was your intention, though."

"Not really," Anakin shrugged in vague askance. Boredly, his eyes traveled the sparse room, finally settling on the small bottle of lotion on the corner of Ferus' nightstand. "Come over here," he said, reaching into the Force to float the bottle over to him.

Ferus watched in disapproval. "I bet Master Obi-Wan has lectured you about using the Force for those sorts of things." Anakin rolled his eyes. "And why do I need to come over there?"

Anakin held up the lotion. "This'll help it to heal faster. It's the same kind I used on the bruises on my hips," he explained impatiently, not bothering to mention Obi-Wan's inquiring after his slight injury. He gestured towards the bed. "Lie down, already."

Ferus moved towards it, glancing warily at Anakin as if waiting for him to change his mind or pounce or something. When he didn't, the older boy stretched out length-wise across the bed on his stomach, resting his head on his arms. "What are you doing?" he asked as he felt Anakin straddle him.

"Just shut up and trust me," Anakin replied, and Ferus could feel cold lotion being spread over his back. He winced, but then Anakin's warm hands were rubbing the lotion in, kneading his back and shoulders. Ferus tried to force himself to relax, but Anakin's presence always made him feel on edge, anxious, and now was no different, no matter how good the massage felt.

Anakin's hands were moving down his back now, and Ferus had to bite back a moan when his attention focused on the small of Ferus' back, just above his tailbone. Something Anakin was doing was sending sparks of pleasure up and down Ferus' body. And then he felt Anakin slip his towel down a little, begin to rub lower. More lotion, and then…

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, nearly flipping himself over as he felt a finger gently probing his ass.

Anakin gave him a light slap. "You'll see," he said, and slid his finger in. Ferus continued to tense up and he sighed in exasperation. "Relax," he told him, kneading the older boy's ass. "It'll feel better if you do."

His first finger slipped in up to the third knuckle, and Ferus let out a strangled gasp. Satisfied, Anakin added a second, revelling in the way Ferus pushed against him, nearly incoherent. When he was three fingers deep and Ferus was bucking up and uttering delicious, sobbing gasps, he started looking around for something to use as lubricant. Eventually he gathered some of the excess lotion from Ferus' lower back, spreading it onto his palms, coating his cock, then reaching underneath Ferus and wrapping slippery fingers around his own member.

Ferus squirmed; "A-Anakin. I've never ... just go easy, all right?"

Anakin grinned, motioning for Ferus to rise up on his knees; the older boy did, propping himself on shaking legs. "Ready?" he asked, breathy with excitement. The anticipation of taking somebody this way, of doing something like this to Ferus of all people, made him feel heady.

"Yes." Ferus seemed to have summoned inner-strength to keep his voice calm. That was all the impetus Anakin needed.

The first thrust inside must have hurt, because Ferus' gasp was not entirely pleasurable. "Don't worry, just let yourself get used to it. I'll wait." He kept his word, soothingly rubbing the flushed skin of Ferus' hip. When the older boy was pressing back against him, he allowed himself to move again, pulling out just slightly and then pushing in, all the way this time.

"How's that?" he asked, slowly thrusting, careful not to go too deep or fast for the time being. It wouldn't do to hurt Ferus… well, hurt him in a negative, non-life-affirming way, anyway.

Ferus grunted in a way Anakin interpreted as positive, so he began going a little deeper, a little faster. Ferus' tight ass clenched around him, and Anakin felt warmth spreading from his cock down his legs and back up again. Anakin buried his hand in Ferus' hair and pulled his head up, thrilling in the sound of Ferus sucking in a breath through his teeth. He jumped a little when Ferus managed to grab one of his hands and bring it around to his cock, but quickly got the message. It didn't mean he was going to give in so easily, however. "Do you want this?" he teased, running his fingers all too softly up and down the shaft, thrusting hard into the older boy's ass for emphasis.

"Do it," Ferus ground out. "Now." He clenched around Anakin's cock, and all words died on Anakin's lips; if that's what Ferus wanted, that's what he would get. He snapped his hips up, resting his free hand on the small of Ferus' back for leverage as he pounded into him. He felt his release swell, and pumped less erratically at Ferus' erection, thrilling in hearing the other boy groan appreciatively.

He came first, thrusting once, twice, three times before slumping forward, still encased in Ferus' ass. Ferus moaned pleadingly, and Anakin fisted his cock, rubbing frenetically until he felt his hand being coated in warmth. Spent, he pulled out carefully, watching Ferus roll onto his side on the bed. He didn't outright invite Anakin to lie down beside him, but implied it by leaving a big enough space for him to do so.

"How's your back?" Anakin said lazily.

Ferus reached over and smoothed a stray piece of hair from his forehead. "A little sweaty," he replied.

"We could always take a shower and fix that." Anakin's grin was lopsided, playful, but it quickly slid off his face when he saw Ferus' disapproving stare. "Oh, don't tell me you're just going to go back to your book of equations after that!"

"That's why we're here, Anakin," Ferus replied heatedly. "In case you've forgotten."

Anakin flushed slightly. "So what are we doing in between? What is this?" He himself didn't know, wasn't sure he even could come up with a viable explanation. But he wanted to know - needed to know - what this was to Ferus. Then maybe he could decide what it was to him.

Ferus turned to him. "This is… studying. What did you get for number seven?"

Anakin stared at him, dumbfounded.

After a few moments with no movement on Anakin's part, Ferus finally deigned to look up at him. "What?"

"Wha..." Anakin's chest hitched, and he wasn't even sure why. He shook his head, and looked away. "Nothing. I haven't done seven yet." Standing, Anakin walked over to his datapad, thrown carelessly away.

He wasn't quite sure why, but suddenly, he needed to have physical distance between himself and Ferus.

Almost collapsing into a chair, he stared blankly at his data pad. Obviously, Ferus didn't much care about what was going on. So why was Anakin letting it bother him?

Ferus surprised him when he finally spoke up. "Can I ask you something?" he queried; then without waiting for an answer: "why exactly are we doing this?"

Anakin felt strangely detached from the situation; it was as if he were watching it from above, outside of his own body. "This?" he said weakly, stomach churning.

"This." Ferus gestured at him. "This ... whatever this is."

Anakin's eyebrow quirked bitterly. "Fucking?"

"Anakin." Ferus pressed his lips together. 'Disapprovingly', Anakin thought sourly, and then he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"It's fucking, Ferus," he said flatly. "We come to your room under the guise of doing homework, and sometimes we even do that too, but we're having sex. If you can't even admit it to yourself, then what business do you have doing it?"

Ferus didn't say anything for a long moment. "I guess," he finally whispered. "I don't."

Anakin couldn't think of a response right away; he still couldn't find the correct words almost twenty minutes later. Their remaining session was spent in nearly complete silence, save for the sounds of breathing and pencils scraping across paper. Occasionally, one of them would look up at the other, then turn away before eye contact could be made. When Anakin packed up to leave, neither of them could even bring themselves to say goodbye.

*


Anakin was in a bad mood when he returned to Ferus' quarters for their next study session. He'd been feeling edgy and irritable all day, but couldn't put a finger on why. He'd snapped at Tru and been purposely contrary to Obi-Wan. And now here he was at Ferus' door, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control himself. Not when faced with Ferus' smug superiority, his denial of what was going on between them.

He swung the door open, unsurprised to find Ferus already seated at his desk, poring over some data pad, looking every bit the studious Padawan he was made out to be. For some reason, Anakin's anger flared at the sight, and he slammed the door behind him, tossing his books and then himself onto the bed.

Ferus glanced at him, a bit disinterestedly, Anakin thought, and then turned back to his book. "We're going to start the new chapter today," he said.

Anakin could feel Ferus' uneasiness. Could sense his wariness. And… something else. Guilt?

For some reason, the guilt was even more annoying than anything else. It gave Anakin a bad feeling, one that he couldn't immediately put his finger on. Why would Ferus feel guilty?

A picture of Siri flashed in Anakin's mind.

Of course. Just like Ferus, reporting back to his Master on every single thing that ever happened, even things that she shouldn't know about.

The frustration that had been bubbling in Anakin all day chose that moment to explode forth. "Screw math. I'm sick of studying with you."

Interestingly enough, Ferus actually looked surprised at the outburst. "You what? But your Master said..."

"I know what Obi-Wan said! Hasn't anyone ever told you that our Masters aren't perfect?" Glaring daggers at Ferus, Anakin stalked toward him. "And they don't need to be told about every little private thing you do, either."

Even more stunned, Ferus stared at Anakin for a moment. "You... think that I told Master Siri about that?"

Anakin snorted, grabbing Ferus by the arm. "Oh please. You tell her everything." Pulling Ferus to his feet, Anakin smiled threateningly. "Did you enjoy retelling it for her? Did it make you hot, telling her about how I fucked you?"

Yanking his arm from Anakin's grasp, Ferus backed away until he ran into the desk. "I didn't tell her anything! I-I'm going to go to the fresher." He sped around Anakin, pushing the door open as quickly as he could.

Anakin was quicker, though, fueled by anger and days of pent-up frustration. "Oh no, you don't," he said savagely, reaching out a hand and Force-slamming the door. The reverberation had to have echoed down the hall, and Ferus looked concerned that somebody had heard it, which spurred Anakin on even more.

"Anakin, stop. Anakin, l-let me go." Ferus' voice quavered nervously when he realized he couldn't move. Anakin intended merely to use the Force to give him a small shove towards the bed, but he was angry, his hold on it erratic, and the older boy fairly flew backwards, landing hard on the mattress.

"Anakin," Ferus gasped. Anakin was panting a little from the mental effort, but wasted in time in straddling Ferus, still Force-bound. He unbuckled his belt and whipped Ferus' wrists over his head, fixing them to the bed posts tightly. He didn't know exactly what he was doing, would not have been able to explain it if asked, even, but it felt necessary right now to have Ferus struggling underneath him, bound, at his mercy. It was his only rationalization, and in his mind, that was all it took to propel him onward.

He ran his hands down Ferus' arms, roughly, wanting to feel him squirm. Ferus' heartbeat was rapid, thudding in his chest loudly enough for them both to hear.

Fumbling slightly, he tugged Ferus' lightsaber off his belt, then the belt off of Ferus. Drawing open the older boy's tunic, he traced patterns on his chest with the hilt of the 'saber. Then, a slight smirk of delight gracing his features, Anakin activated the weapon. He held it at arm's length, away from Ferus, and admired the ruby-red blade.

No other Jedi in the Order had a red lightsaber. Even in this, Ferus had to make himself stand out. Anakin's own lightsaber had been modeled after Obi-Wan's, blue blade and all, and Anakin often wondered if that meant anything. Now, seeing Ferus' blade, Anakin felt a slight pang of jealousy. He knew it was foolish to be jealous over something so inconsequential as lightsaber blade color, but still the feeling remained. Wasn't he supposed to be the special one? Wasn't he supposed to be the one who stood out from the crowd? Why was Ferus always trying to do the same thing - and in the process make Anakin look bad?

Anakin drew the blade down next to Ferus' face, illuminating it in the soft red glow. The fear in the older Padawan's eyes didn't make him back down, strangely enough, but urged him on.

He pushed the saber so close to Ferus' face that he was sure the boy could feel heat from it.

Yes, it was time that Ferus felt something. Not from his saber, of course. Even as angry as he was, Anakin had enough sense to realize that actually injuring Ferus would be a bad idea. Deactivating the lightsaber, tossed it down on the bed next to them.

Running his hands over Ferus' still-clothed chest, Anakin smiled wickedly at the fear that was still radiating off the object of his attention. Slowly and deliberately, he leaned down until his face was right in front of Ferus, letting the boy see in his eyes that he was not going to back down.

Then, he leaned further down, until his mouth found Ferus' neck. He reached up and pulled the high collar of the tunic out of the way, and lightly licked the spot under his mouth. Grinning ferally, he clamped down, pressing his teeth into the other boy's neck until he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Aaahh, oh, F-Force ..." Ferus' pulse was flickering wildly, his breath hitching when Anakin ran his tongue over the delicate, marred skin his teeth had just punctured. He strained his arms, trying to pull them free, but Anakin had bound them tightly, and coupled with the Force-bindings, there was little chance of Ferus breaking away. He raised his head and kissed the older boy, shoving his tongue into Ferus' mouth, making him taste the coppery remains of his own blood mixed with Anakin's saliva.

Anakin's hands fumbled with Ferus' tunic, loose now that his belt had been removed, and spread it open with deft fingers. He trailed his tongue along Ferus' prominent collarbone, down to his peaked nipples, flicking the nubs with his teeth and nails until they were impossibly hard. He bit into one, not enough to draw blood as before, but definitely succeeding in making Ferus arch up off the bed as much as he could. Anakin brushed the pads of his fingers over Ferus' stomach, delighting in the way his muscles twitched and quivered. Ferus was his right now, to do with as he pleased, and the notion aroused him utterly.

He picked up the now-deactivated lightsaber again, running it over Ferus' clothed crotch. Ferus' cock was hard, his thin standard-issue Jedi leggings doing little to hide that, and Anakin ran the hilt of his lightsaber along its outline in his pants. "I think you need to be fucked with this, Ferus," he crooned, looking up purposefully into the older boy's eyes. He was doing a passable job of hiding his fear, Anakin noted, although he definitely swallowed as Anakin's intention became clear.

"You don't want to do that," Ferus said, his voice wavering slightly. But Anakin was already yanking his pants and undergarments down, tossing them carelessly on the floor.

"Sure, I do." His tone was uncompromising, his eyes steeled, and though he didn't outwardly show it (much, anyway), Ferus Olin was afraid of Anakin Skywalker at that moment.

Before he even realized it, Ferus' legs were slung over Anakin's shoulders, and Anakin had one hand around his cock. The other hand was gripped on his lightsaber, and Anakin traced a path down towards Ferus' ass with the deactivated hilt, a feral smile on his face, looking… looking like he was outside of himself, like he was not even aware of his actions beyond the fear he was provoking in his… partner? Victim? What could Ferus describe himself as?

He felt white-hot fire as Anakin inserted - something… probably a finger, for it was nowhere near the size of the lightsaber, or Anakin's own cock. A finger, to prepare him, to ease him into….

Ferus' eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned loudly as Anakin, without warning, began to probe the depths of Ferus' ass with the hilt of the lightsaber.

When Anakin's hand started slowly stroking his cock, Ferus wondered if it was possible to die of sensation. The combination of the two feelings was overwhelming his senses. He wasn't quite sure if it was pain or pleasure, but it was the only thing that his mind was willing to concentrate on.

The hand was slow and sure; Anakin knew exactly how to make Ferus’ body respond. It almost distracted him from the fact that his own lightsaber was being used to…

How was he ever going to use it again?

He would never be able to so much as look at it again, without thinking of Anakin using it to fuck him.

Trying to hide his blush, Ferus glanced at Anakin, and found himself spellbound by the look on the younger boy’s face. Anakin was thoroughly focused on what he was doing, and his face was filled with anger and lust, all at once.

To his horror, Ferus found that the look turned him on even more. When Anakin’s eyes shifted to look at his, Ferus immediately looked away.

The grip on his cock tightened, the movement speeding up to a pace that made Ferus arch up off the bed. As his hips came off the bed, Anakin jammed the lightsaber into him hard. As if from a distance, he thought he heard himself scream. "Shh," Anakin smirked at him, purposefully hitting his prostate over and over again with alarming accuracy. "You were so worried about somebody hearing us, after all."

Ferus groaned and turned his head to the side as much as he was able to. He wanted to yell at Anakin, to tell him off, to threaten, even, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He nearly sobbed when he felt the younger boy's hand close over his swollen cock, thumbing the head, coaxing a drop of semen from the tip. He made sure Ferus was watching, then made a show of licking it off.

Anakin sped up his pace, attacking Ferus' ass with the lightsaber hilt and jerking him off rapidly. It hurt a lot; he had never been penetrated at all until the other day, and even with the Force, he didn't think he'd had time to heal completely. And now ... this. He bit his lip, trying to quiet his own moans as Anakin shoved his own weapon into him again and again, rhythmically. He came harder than he could ever remember, gasping out a strange mixture of obscenities and exclamations that, judging from the smile pasted on Anakin's face, made the other boy very pleased to hear.

His wrists were slightly numb when Anakin reached into the Force yet again to unfurl the belt; they were slightly bruised from where he had tried to tug himself free, but there was no permanent damage. He looked around for a towel or something to wipe his stomach off with, finally settling on gingerly rubbing against his bed coverings; it looked as though he'd be washing them that evening anyway.

Anakin had his back turned to Ferus, the awkward aftermath of their previous sessions seemingly having returned. Taking what he wanted and then leaving - how so very Anakin, the older boy thought. He reached for where his lightsaber had been set, wiping the hilt off disgustedly on the bed as well. His fingers curled and uncurled around it, and as he stared down at it, an idea came to mind. Could he? He knew he shouldn't, but ... well. After what Anakin had gotten away with, there really was no argument against it, was there?

Anakin felt the slight tingling sensation of being Force-bound before he fully comprehended the fact that he couldn't move. Obi-Wan had taught him the trick when he had been much younger, and the feeling was not easily forgotten. "Wha-?" he started.

Ferus silenced him with a brief flick of his wrist. Anakin felt his vocal cords tighten, tried to speak, tried to protest… nothing came out. No sound, no breath, no noise. Anakin swallowed tightly as Ferus advanced on him, his previously discarded belt in his hands. "You think you're the only one who can do this sort of thing, Skywalker?" Ferus asked, winding the belt around Anakin's wrists. "I told you before… you're not special."

The belt tightened, and Ferus ran his hand down Anakin's chest, his stomach, and finally stopped…. Slightly… cupping and stroking his crotch, his hardness. He tried to speak, to protest, but Ferus would not let him. With all his strength, Anakin reached out with the Force, but Ferus countered him.

Tossing the slightly smaller boy back onto the bed with a combination of the Force and his own muscle, Ferus smirked at Anakin. “How appropriate that I use this tutoring session to finally teach you the lesson you’ve needed for so long.”

He picked up Anakin’s dropped obi off the floor, as he stalked to the edge of the bed.

The shock in Anakin’s eyes alone was worth the humiliation of the earlier scene. Ferus moved up to straddle Anakin, and leaned down to tie his hands to the bed, as Anakin had done to him just a short time earlier. Even when Anakin was secured, Ferus didn’t let up on the Force bonds holding him down.

Anakin wasn’t going anywhere.

Ferus leaned down and brushed his lips against Anakin’s lightly, releasing the strain he'd placed on his vocal chords simultaneously.

Then he stuffed the obi in Anakin’s mouth, and tied the ends tightly behind his head.

Climbing off the bed, he went over to retrieve his data pad from the desk. Extremely calmly, he flipped it on and started looking over the math. “Okay, Anakin, I’m sure this will be simple for you.”

Crossing the room, he sat on the edge of the bed, not quite touching the restrained boy, who was looking at him as if he were insane. “This chapter is about quadratic equations, and if you’ve paid any attention at all during our other study sessions, it ought to be easy.”

Anakin struggled, uttering muffled obscenities from behind his gag. He wasn't -- Ferus really wasn't just going to abandon him here, was he?

The older boy smirked infuriatingly, then reached up and began undressing him. Anakin waited for Ferus to take his pants down all the way, but he barely pulled them far enough down to uncover his cock ... which, Anakin was horrified to see, was still achingly hard. His gaze flickered searingly up to meet Ferus' eyes when his rival began to speak.

"Look at you, all trussed up and waiting for me to touch you. What a little whore," Ferus laughed. Irate, Anakin struggled wildly, mewling as the obi refused to budge, nor would his body cooperate against Ferus' economical bindings. "I could just leave you here like this, you know," Ferus continued. "There's about two hours left. I could go to the library, study in peace ..."

"Nnnggghhh!"

"You're right," Ferus laughed, still entirely too smug for Anakin's tastes. "This is supposed to be a tutoring session, isn't it? Okay, then. I think ... ah, yes. We were on problem number seven, weren't we?" He proceeded to explain the order of operations for a quadratic equation, reaching over to flick his fingertips lightly over Anakin's balls. Anakin tried to bring his hips up to make contact, but Ferus purposely pulled away. "Nuh-uh. This is on my turf, remember, Skywalker? You don't get to set the pace this time." He paused as if contemplating whether he should say what he was about to utter. "You're my slave."

Anakin’s eyes filled with rage, and he bucked against Ferus’ hand. He wasn’t sure whether he was trying to push Ferus away, or force the other boy to touch him.

Regardless of his intentions, it came to naught. He expended every ounce of energy he had trying to escape Ferus’ bonds, and nothing happened. It stunned him, the idea that Ferus could so easily keep him from the force, and hold him down.

Ferus wasn’t as powerful as he was, that wasn’t supposed to be possible!

The older boy was going on about math, and calling Anakin a slave, and there was nothing he could do about it. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to stop the desperate, angry, frightened tears that stung his eyes.

He had been defeated, so easily.

And for some reason, he was as hard as he had ever been in his life.

Ferus was using him, treating him like a cheap whore, calling him a whore, and… his body seemed to be enjoying it, even if his mind was screaming for revenge.

Anakin desperately hoped that Ferus didn’t realize just how much the treatment was turning him on. He would never let him forget it. His eyes followed the older boy's slightly larger form warily as it rose from the bed, shifting the mattress just a bit. Ferus plucked something off of the far corner of his desk: a feather. Found on a mission with his Master, during the molting season for some of the planet's native birds. This particular bird had had lovely black feathers with tips that looked almost dipped in red, and Siri had told him it was all right to take one home with him.

He'd never expected to be using it like this, of course, but he supposed he was breaking plenty of first-time records these days.

Anakin let out an enraged snarl as the tip of the feather tickled his nose; he had limited mobility as it was, and trying to move away from the source of the unpleasant sensation only served to make it worse. He squeezed his eyes shut again to keep the tears threatening to burst out from sliding down his cheeks, grateful - though he would never admit that to Ferus - when his tormentor decided to trail his unusual weapon downward.

Ferus opened Anakin's tunic, trailing the feather over and around his nipples, much the way Anakin's tongue had done to him. He dipped it into Anakin's navel, making him jump, eliciting a tiny gasp from behind the obi. "See, you don't always have to be rough to be in control, Anakin," Ferus lectured. "Brute strength isn't always the answer." He brushed the underside of Anakin's dripping cock with the tip of the feather, and the younger boy's eyes practically rolled back into his head. He moaned loudly. "Oh," Ferus crooned, clucking his tongue. "I didn't hear that, Anakin. What were you saying?"

A string of muffled curses followed, and that seemed to amuse Ferus just as much as the moaning. He continued his torture with the feather for a few moments, and Anakin’s eyes remained firmly closed. There was simply no way he would allow Ferus to see how much he was being affected.

Except, of course, for the fact that his cock was in plain view, and obviously enjoying itself.

Oddly, that was when Ferus decided to change that fact. Anakin felt his Force-bonds move, slowly turning him onto his stomach. What was he…?

Oh, that.

Anakin swallowed hard when he felt the feather brush against his ass briefly. Even knowing that he had no one to blame but himself for what he had gotten into, Anakin tried to wholeheartedly blame Ferus.

Then, the feather was gone, and Ferus was softly massaging his ass. When he pulled the cheeks apart, Anakin tensed. He knew what was coming, and it scared him as much as his lack of control.

The tears he’d been trying to keep in check started flowing, and he didn’t even try to stop them. Ferus thought he was a whore, and he was going to prove himself right.

The thing that scared Anakin wasn’t the pain that he knew was coming, but that fact.

Anakin was a whore, a slave, and Ferus was about to prove it beyond a doubt.

The feeling of something wet lightly probing his hole when he'd expected nothing but pain shocked him; every muscle tensed, and he let out a nearly inhuman wail as he realized just what it was: Ferus' tongue. In his -- oh. 'Oh, Force,' Anakin's thought dizzily. He was unable to believe the sensations rolling off of him in waves, as Ferus pleasured him in ways he'd never even really thought about before. He was relieved now with the older boy's foresight to turn him onto his stomach, his damp face pressing against the mattress, where his tears could be absorbed unnoticed.

Ferus let up momentarily, and cool air blew over the area where his tongue had just been; Anakin shuddered. He knew Ferus was smiling without being able to see him, and readied himself as his cheeks were spread even wider. It shouldn't feel so good, he thought as he sobbed out pleas for more, now, shouldn't be so wonderful to have Ferus' tongue spearing him the way it was, moving around inside of him. He wondered vaguely if a person could come from such a thing alone.

He was relieved slightly to know that if nothing else, that Ferus wasn't going to test that hypothesis out on him - at least, not today. The older boy's mouth leaving his ass sent shivers coursing through him; he groaned, curious when Ferus maneuvered him onto his back again. Fingertips ghosted at his cock once more, and he readied himself for more teasing.

Again, Ferus surprised him, running his tongue along the edge. His hands went to Anakin's hips, pressing down lightly, more for show than any particular need, then breathing hot air on his erection - which, he was sure Ferus noticed, hadn't flagged at all. "I told you I wasn't going to be rough," Ferus said, running his fingers through Anakin's thatch of pubic hair randomly. "There are other ways to torture you." His tongue danced a line down the angry vein of Anakin's cock. "Like ... this ..." Ferus murmured, pinching and rolling Anakin's balls in his hand.

"Tell me you want this, Anakin," he said eventually. "Tell me. Like the good little whore you are."

Anakin whimpered through the obi, beyond caring about what Ferus thought. He just needed… something. Friction, force, some sensation … anything to push him over the edge.

He didn’t recall ever having wanted it quite so much.

It seemed that Ferus wasn’t going to give him what he needed, though, unless he responded to the demand. Of course, he wasn’t immediately certain of how to respond, since he was gagged.

When Ferus’ hand moved away, though, his brain cried out for him to find an answer, and quickly. Ferus looked down at him questioningly, almost looking amused.

“Well? I can stop, of course, if you don’t want it…”

Vehemently, Anakin shook his head, and tried ineffectually to push himself back into Ferus’ grasp.

“What’s that, Anakin? You do want it?”

Nodding madly, Anakin tried not to cry again, this time in frustration.

At that, Ferus grinned, and leaned forward, letting his control of Anakin’s hips go just enough so that he could thrust upward. When Anakin surged forward, Ferus swallowed him whole.

Immediately, a strangled cry was wrenched from Anakin, muffled only slightly by the gag. Within two upward thrusts, he was coming into that beautiful warm mouth. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing this time, relieved that the aching pressure in his groin had finally subsided after what seemed like an eternity. He felt Ferus' thumb rub gently underneath his wet lashes, and flushed, embarrassed by his weakness, and too exhausted to even try to hold back anymore.

He felt Ferus' hold on him weaken and then disappear, and simply lay there as the older boy undid his bonds, gently easing the obi out of his mouth and untying his hands. He let them drop wearily to his sides, licking his lips and relaxing bonelessly into the mattress as his heavy breathing subsided. He watched Ferus tug his own pants back on, coming to sit near Anakin's head and brushing his hand lightly over his sweaty hair. They stayed like that for a good ten minutes or so before Ferus spoke.

"A-are you okay, Anakin? You haven't ... moved much."

"Hmm?" Anakin found he was too spent to attempt proper speech at this point.

Ferus leaned down and gently felt around Anakin's mouth, looking at the pinkish marks the sides of the obi had left. Satisfied that they didn't appear all that damaging, he picked up Anakin's hands and smoothed calming fingers over his chafed wrists. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said softly, biting his lip and looking truly anxious about this.

Anakin managed small conversation at last: "it's fine."

Ferus still seemed restless, however. "It, I ... I just want you to know that I don't hate you, Anakin," he continued. "However much you think I do." Anakin's eyebrows rose tiredly in surprise, but Ferus surged forward before he could be interrupted.

"I just ... we're really not all that different," he continued quietly, folding and unfolding his hands in what Anakin interpreted as nervousness. "We have similar abilities, and everyone seems to admire us for our leadership skills. And ... I think it's not so much that you're the Chosen One that bothers me," he admitted. "It's that you're the one that everybody chooses as their friend. I don't really have a lot of solid friendships here." He smiled ruefully. "I actually kind of tell myself that that's not what I decided to become a Jedi for. But you seem to be able to juggle both so easily, and ... I don't know. Maybe I'm a little jealous of that." Ferus kissed him softly for a second, still studying his reaction, before backing off entirely, and biting his lip again. He seemed rather concerned about Anakin’s general health, so Anakin decided that getting dressed would help him realize that there was no problem.

It took some effort, as exhausted as he was. He decided that getting back to his quarters was a good idea, before he dropped to the floor and fell asleep.

“I know our three hours isn’t up, but I really ought to get back, Ferus,” he said as he finished fastening his slightly wet obi.

He looked up at Ferus, and the boy seemed bothered. Anakin could sense something off him, something like… disappointment?

It took him a moment to understand. When it came to him, he smiled rather shyly, particularly considering what they’d been doing only a short time before.

Almost hesitantly, he took the two steps that separated him from the other Padawan. Blushing brightly, he quickly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Ferus’ lips.

“I’ll um… I’ll see you later.”

*


Their ensuing study sessions were sufficiently calmer, Anakin noticed. It was as if they had reached a mutual respect for one another. There were still sexual interludes between rhetoric and mathematics lessons, but it was less fueled by anger and individual needs to control.

His need to dominate wasn't completely gone, of course, but it didn't flare up quite as quickly or vehemently.

Ferus, too, seemed more at peace, both with their situation, however wrought with ambiguities it still was, and himself. He'd loosened up somewhat, and though Anakin was hesitant to point this out for fear of the older boy scaring himself back into rigidity, he appreciated Ferus' somewhat more relaxed mood.

It was during a particularly lax time in one of their later sessions that they found themselves lounging in Ferus' room, Anakin's head pillowed on the older boy's chest, staring calmly up at the ceiling. Ferus' fingers smoothed over his short-shorn hair absently, and he allowed it.

"Toako Johansen."

Anakin blinked curiously. "What?"

Ferus grinned down at him. "Toako Johansen. She was my first time."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, returning the smile with one of his own. "Really?"

Ferus nodded. "She kissed me during a meditation session out by the Room of A Thousand Fountains. Then ... well, did you know the girls' dormitories are almost exactly identical to the guys'?"

Anakin snorted loudly.

"What about you?" Ferus queried.

Anakin cocked his head. "Soania Beadu," he relayed. "In a really dark, dusty corner. Her allergies totally went on the fritz afterwards."

Ferus gave him a weird look. "That sounds ... attractive."

Anakin shrugged. "We were supposed to be chaperoning at one of those Junior Padawan social gatherings. But then we figured they could sneak off and play Spin The Bottle without us," he laughed, then harder as Ferus elbowed him in the ribs.

When they both had sobered again, Ferus gazed down at him hesitantly. "So," he said, biting his lip. "About ... guys. It ... they ... you hadn't done anything like this with anyone before, then?"

“Well, I… I have now.” Blushing, Anakin tried to shield his thoughts more strongly. He had come to a point of trusting Ferus, but he didn’t really want to discuss his position on men.

Not that there was anything wrong with Ferus, it was just that he wasn’t the man Anakin dreamed of. Ferus wasn’t bad, shockingly enough. He was fun to talk to, when he wasn’t being a complete twat. He was pretty decent as a lover, even when he was being a complete twat.

But he wasn’t the beautiful older man that Anakin fantasized about in his bed. No one could compare to that picture, even though it was completely imaginary. And it was probably going to stay that way, for all the interest Obi-Wan had ever shown in sex. In Anakin, more specifically.

Still, Anakin hoped. Maybe one day the man would open his eyes, and see what was standing right in front of him.

*


"It's really quite a remarkable improvement," Obi-Wan noted a number of weeks later. "You've brought up all of your term grades to above-satisfactory levels. You see what you can do with a little extra dedication, Anakin?"

"Yes, Master," Anakin said, his mouth full of cake. He was no stranger to raiding his Master's cupboards, but Obi-Wan had made this one especially for him, so he didn't even feel all that apologetic.

"I'm very proud of you, Anakin," Obi-Wan continued. He had just finished setting the print-out of Anakin's improved grades on the table when the doorbell rang. "Hello, Siri!" he called across the room. "Come on in."

Siri did, followed respectively by Ferus. Anakin popped the last bite of cake in his mouth, chewing quickly so Obi-Wan wouldn't fault him for trying to talk with his mouth full. He nodded at Ferus, who managed a small smile in return.

Siri smiled brightly, brandishing a printed copy of Ferus’ grades with no small amount of smugness in her expression. Handing it to Obi-Wan, she crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for his reaction.

To Anakin’s surprise, Ferus had the humility to blush at being shown off like a prize animal, and shrug apologetically in Anakin’s direction.

Obi-Wan nodded approvingly, and tried to hade a smile as he pretended to absently motion Siri to the copy of Anakin’s own grades. She seemed a bit surprised that Obi-Wan actually wanted her to see the page, but picked it up and took a look anyway.

Anakin made a point of being disinterested in the whole situation, picking up his plate and taking it over to wash it off in the sink.

She almost dropped the print-out, when she saw it.

When she looked up, she found Obi-Wan watching her amusedly. She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I guess we share the Padawan Pool this time.”

At the look on Ferus’ face, it was all that Anakin could do not to laugh out loud.

“Master Siri? The… what?”

Anakin snorted and raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell you about it later," he whispered conspiratorially. Ferus looked ... almost confused, Anakin thought; then his gaze turned rather appreciative, and he grinned back.

"So Anakin," Siri nodded at him with her usual brisk gusto that he'd admired ever since they'd first met more than three years ago. "Do you feel that yours and Ferus' being 'study buddies' has paid off?"

Obi-Wan looked at him curiously. Ferus' face was equally inquisitive, and Siri wore her trademark smirk. Anakin shrugged good-naturedly. "I suppose so," he finally replied, his eyes twinkling. "I mean, you know. In theory."