Sun Kissed

Chapter 13

“Master Windu, I assure you this isn’t necessary.”



“With all due respect Chancellor, it is.”



Mace watched as Bail Organa sighed and moved to the window of his office. The Jedi hadn’t expected such an attack, but given the late Chancellor Palpatine’s kidnapping it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.



It felt like a warning. A message that even though the Clone Wars had fallen in the Republic’s favour, it wasn’t over; the Sith remained. But how many?



A Master and an Apprentice. Always two. But given how much darkness had left the Force, and how much light was coming back into the universe…were there really two left?



It was entirely possible that the apprentice had slain her mentor. It was entirely possible that Asajj Ventress had become the new Sith Master. But had she found a new apprentice? Regardless, it was something the Jedi would stop. They had to. As long as the Sith existed, the peace and stability of the Republic would always be in danger.



The attack on Organa was a clue to the mystery, and Vos and Secura were on it. After Master Vos’ defeat of General Grievous on Utapau, the Jedi Council put him on the trail of the Sith, accompanied by his former padawan.



The Republic was winning this war, and would finish in complete victory.



“Chancellor, the Council is concerned with your safety, and that of those around you. The Jedi will not allow the Republic to lose another leader. We failed Palpatine, we will not fail you,” said Mace resolutely.



“I don’t believe you failed him. No one could have predicted what happened,” said Organa turning to look at him.



It was a cold comfort, but Mace would still be damned if anything happened to this Supreme Chancellor. The Republic needed stability, and Organa was a great leader. Losing Palpatine had shaken many people, and loosened resolve; losing Organa could turn the tide of the war once again. Especially if Ventress remained free.



“We’re still assigning you Jedi protection,” stated Mace. Organa would be protected.



“There’s no arguing with you is there?”



“No.”



Organa quirked a smile at Windu’s deadpan. “Who have you assigned?”



“Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan will be accompanying you while the threat remains.”



Organa nodded. “Then they’ll be accompanying me back to Alderaan. Besides the recent…unpleasantness, it should be safe enough should it not?”



“We’re taking the highest precautions.”



“Good. With the Separatists in shambles, I may be a target for some time; but I refuse to live in fear over something that may or may not happen. I’ve been away from Alderaan for too long, and I am quite looking forward to meeting my new daughter.”



“My congratulations Chancellor. I hope the trip is uneventful.”



Organa laughed, knowing full well what the Jedi was referring to. “As do I. These last few weeks have been enough excitement.”



“Jinn and Jukassa will be sent shortly. May the Force be with you.”



“And you as well, Master Jedi.”





|||





Night cascaded over the plains. Pitch black darkness, offset by the twinkling of a million stars shining down upon a lone figure.



The ocean’s waves crashing gently on the shore line was the only thing Anakin could hear.



Swell. Break. Retreat. Over and over the pattern repeated itself, never breaking its rhythm. It was calming, soothing, and relaxing in a way he desperately needed right now.



Stupid, stupid, stupid.



What had he been thinking?



Anakin dug his feet into the sand. Awful sand. Coarse, gritty, rough, abrasive sand.



It only served to remind of where he’d been. Of what he’d been.



Slave.



Tramp.



Whore.



Hell, he just wanted to stop thinking about it. About everything.



Anakin ran a hand roughly through his hair, and kicked at the sand angrily. Turning to stare up at the rockside cliff, he could make out the lights that were still on inside Obi-Wan’s home.



Obi-Wan.



Anakin deflated.



Obi-Wan with his warm smiles, and calm nature; with his tea, and simplicity.



He was…he just was. Was unlike anyone Anakin had ever met. He was kind, and shy; quiet, and…a little sad, Anakin thought, at times. He didn’t know why, but he hoped one day, maybe, Obi-Wan would tell him. He sighed audibly.



It was his kindness though, that confused Anakin the most at first. And it was his kindness, now, that Anakin had wanted to thank him for. It was difficult for him to think of anything for Obi-Wan, so he had fallen back into his old trappings. His old world. He did the only thing he knew.



It seemed like a good idea at the time.



Anakin groaned, angry at himself once more. He didn’t know what else to do, what else to give. He didn’t understand the reaction.



Anakin knew he was beautiful, so that couldn’t be the problem.



On Tatooine, he didn’t need his former owner to say it; he didn’t need his clients to say it. All he had to do was catch his own reflection and he knew. He had eyes, he could see. The slight curling in his hair, the blue of his eyes, full, sinful lips, and lightly muscled body. He was attractive. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t have been on the floors, wouldn’t have kept so much of Kerr’s business. He was a commodity. Something to be used.



Anakin was beautiful; and who wouldn’t want to fuck such beauty? No one had ever passed him over before.



It was honestly the only thing he could think of to give Obi-Wan.



He wasn’t doing it for business, or payment, or because he was a slave. He was doing it to say thank you. It was okay. Republic or not, he was still Obi-Wan’s, wasn’t he?



The man himself wasn’t bad to look at. Nothing Obi-Wan did was ever overtly sexual, but Anakin still found himself watching. Watching the little things: Obi-Wan’s hands on cups and silverware, the curl and tuck of his legs when they meditated; had he ever noticed Anakin watching?



He decided it was the best way. The best thing he could think of.



Sex was all he had.



And when Obi-Wan had left for town that evening, Anakin thought it was as good of time as any.



He’d bathed. He’d stripped. He’d positioned himself on Obi-Wan’s bed indecently. And waited.



Anakin dropped his head in his hands.



He hadn’t felt embarrassed like that in a long time. A brand new form of humiliation that he, now that he was calmer, realized was his own making.



“It’s what you paid for. My body, this, it belongs to you. So use it.”



Obi-Wan had choked. Grabbed a blanket and covered Anakin, muttering, “You should go to bed.”



Then left.



Anakin had sat up on his heels slowly, wrapped the blanket around himself and stared at the spot Obi-Wan had been – baffled.



A situation of his own making, and of course, Anakin being himself, he just had to blow everything out of proportion.



But it was just so confusing! Obi-Wan was confusing! He just… Anakin kicked the sand again and raised his head in a huff. This was the second time Obi-Wan had rejected him. And now that Anakin thought about it, Obi-Wan had looked at him the same way as he had the first time Anakin offered to let him fuck him. Shocked. Wide eyed. Stuttering.



He…didn’t understand the reaction. Was there something wrong with him? Was he not…desirable?



Anakin felt lost. He had no idea how to respond to Obi-Wan’s reaction. He was offering himself freely wasn’t he? He just…wanted to say thank you.



Thank you for being kind to me.



Thank you for not beating me. Not selling me, or raping me.



What was so wrong about that?



The rejection confused him as much as the first time; but this time instead of staying confused, he let himself become stung by the rejection. He’d felt anger.



And anger had always gotten him into trouble. He was confused. Then embarrassed. And it had made him angry. Trying to figure out what went wrong, why Obi-Wan didn’t want him, it brought things up in his mind that he didn’t want to think about.



“I disgust you.”



I disgust you. He’d spit those words scornfully at Obi-Wan before he left. But now that he wasn’t angry anymore, he didn’t think he really believed that. Obi-Wan had never acted disgusted with him. He had seen what disgust looked like on a person’s face, he’d seen people look at him like that; like he was something slimy that had crawled out from under their boot.



He knew disgust.



Obi-Wan was just…baffling.



Anakin sighed.



He supposed that he could have been a bit more subtle. Obi-Wan was shy after all. Maybe it was his blatant approach and display that…embarrassed Obi-Wan? Had he been blushing?



A cold wind drifted off the ocean. Anakin shivered, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. If he stayed out here any longer wallowing he would freeze to death. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the temperature difference between Bandomeer and Tatooine. In his great stupidity he didn’t bother grabbing a jacket or blanket or anything. The light tunic and pants he wore did nothing to ward off the night’s chill.



Stupid, stupid, stupid.



Freezing to death would be just what he needed to complete the disaster that his night had been. And now he had to go back. There was nowhere else for him to go, and as much as it scared and embarrassed him, he had to go back. He had to face Obi-Wan again. Maybe try…apologizing?



For what? His mind supplied.



For making him uncomfortable. He shot back.



And now he was arguing with himself.



Anakin groaned and got to his feet, shaking off the sand from his pants.



“Maybe he is a virgin,” he muttered.





|||





Wandering back, Anakin moved faster than he wanted to. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Obi-Wan, or what Obi-Wan was going to say to him; all he knew was that he was cold, and now that he wasn’t angry anymore he would rather sit inside awkwardly with Obi-Wan, than freeze alone.



What he hadn’t counted on was Obi-Wan sitting on the grass outside his house looking up at the sky. For a while, Anakin just stood watching him. He seemed lost in thought, the look on his face was one Anakin had become familiar with; and not for the first time, he wished Obi-Wan’s shields weren’t as strong as they were. He wished he could just get one, single glimpse into the other man’s mind.



Anakin started when Obi-Wan blinked and turned his head towards him, noticing Anakin’s presence. They stared at each other, before Obi-Wan quirked a small smile his way. It was only after that that Anakin felt the tension he didn’t know he was holding slide away.



He slowly made his way towards Obi-Wan and sat down next to him wordlessly. Glancing up at the same sky he had been watching on the beach, Anakin sighed and wrapped his arms around himself.



“I got cold.”



He smiled a bit when Obi-Wan let out a short laugh. Glancing over at him, Anakin relaxed further when he saw Obi-Wan’s eyes were a bit brighter. The silence that followed was a more comfortable one, but Anakin still felt like he needed to say something else. Needed to explain himself, or the situation.



“If you wanted to,” he started. “I would.”



Anakin winced as he watched Obi-Wan’s face drop, and his eyes dim. He didn’t mean to make Obi-Wan look…sad.



“I know,” said Obi-Wan quietly. “And as hard as it is to believe, that’s not why you’re here. I don’t own you. This is Republic space. Slavery is outlawed. You belong to no one but yourself.”



“What if I want to?” What was wrong with sex for thanks? If he was free to offer it?



“Not like this.”



Then like what? Anakin wanted to ask. He didn’t understand. But…did that mean there was hope? Did Obi-Wan want to sleep with him eventually?



“Anakin…what did you do before the brothel?”



“What?” he asked in surprise.



“You weren’t always a…pleasure worker…were you?” asked Obi-Wan uncomfortably.



“No. I…I wasn’t…” he started. Before the brothel…it felt like eons ago. Watto, the junk shop, the hovel he shared with his mother…the machines…the pod racing…



Anakin’s mouth turned into a slow smile. It was hard to believe that those had been the happiest years of his life. He was three when Watto won them from Gardulla the Hutt. And the six subsequent years he and his mother spent with Watto were the most free of his life until Obi-Wan.



“I worked in a junk shop,” he finally said. “I used to fix things for Watto, my owner, I guess I was his mechanic.”



“What did you fix for him?”



“Anything. Everything. I loved building things, fixing things. Figuring out how they worked, how they went together, how I could improve them, and make them run better than before. I even built my own protocol droid.”



“You built a droid?”



“Yeah. But he was never finished. Poor Threepio, he never got coverings. I wonder what happened to him sometimes…” He trailed off wistfully. Hopefully Threepio had been sold to someone who would appreciate him, maybe even finish him.



“That’s quite the achievement Anakin.” Obi-Wan offered him a soft smile.



Anakin smiled back. “You should have seen the pod racer I was building. Have you ever seen a pod race?”



“Uh, I…no. But I hear they’re very dangerous.”



“I’m the only human that can do it,” he said proudly.



Obi-Wan’s eyes widened.



“Watto used to make me do it. Mom hated it, but I loved it. The speed, the excitement… I just wish I’d been able to finish a race…”



“The Force can sharpen reflexes. That’s probably why you could race at such speeds.”



“Yeah…” he trailed off.



“You know Anakin, I’m sure the AgriCorps could use another mechanic in some capacity.”



“You think so?” he asked. His heart started beating faster, just the thought of being around machines again…



“Never hurts to ask.” Obi-Wan gave him another small smile that he returned almost sadly; his mood shifting once more. Anakin hadn’t thought about life outside his previous profession for a long time. The pain of his mother’s loss was too great, and thinking about how things used to be only filled him with an emptiness. And longing. The longing of tools in his hands again, as he took things apart and made them anew, the motor grease and oil staining his tanned skin.



Racing. Feeling the wind whip by his face, the force and speed pushing him back against the seat as he turned and manoeuvred the pod among canyons and caves. The thrill and exhilaration…what could it have felt like to finish a race? To win?



The pod races scared his mother, but if he’d won, would she have looked upon him in pride? But he would never see that look on her face. He knew she would be happy that he was free now…but as to what he had become?



“Anakin?”



He jumped slightly at the feel of Obi-Wan’s hesitant hand on his back.



“I was just…” Anakin stopped. He knew the look on Obi-Wan’s face. He’d seen it before; the last time Anakin had been thinking of his mother.



Concern.



Obi-Wan already knew what he was thinking about. There was no need to tell him. Tears started to burn in his eyes like they always did when he thought of her. Would his mother be ashamed of him? She had loved him before, but he’d been innocent then. What was he now? He was confused. About everything.



Leaning into Obi-Wan, he laid his head on his shoulder and tried to force back the tears. When Obi-Wan’s hand smoothed over his shoulders, he took it as permission to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, face turning to bury in a surprisingly strong shoulder.



It was the second time he got to hug Obi-Wan. And just like the first, it was comfort without expectation. Something he still wasn’t used to, but he would try. He would try to figure out who he was now. He wasn’t a slave, so what was he? He’d been owned his entire life and now to have that suddenly lifted, it confused him as much as Obi-Wan did.



Leaning against him like this, Anakin knew he truly liked being close to Obi-Wan. He enjoyed his company; enjoyed talking with him and learning from him. How easy it was becoming to touch him, and how it made him feel doing so.



Though something did nag at him. Every time he touched Obi-Wan, or offered him more, he never seemed completely comfortable, but startled, formal. Unnerved. In Anakin’s earlier anger he had assumed it was disgust, but if it wasn’t then…



Kriff.



“You’re not used to it, are you?” Anakin asked abruptly.



“What?”



“Being touched.”



The shoulder beneath him stilled and tensed. How could he have missed this? When Anakin thought about it, really thought; certain interactions between them made sense.



Obi-Wan had been raised Jedi. Cold, unattached, and seemingly unfeeling; that’s what they were becoming in Anakin’s mind, and after meeting Yoda, Anakin was sure his new view was right.



He’d once wondered, the last time Obi-Wan had held him like this, how someone could be confused over a hug, over comfort. And now he knew it was because none was ever given.



You can’t treat people like droids, he thought. One day, it’ll be too much.



Force, they were a pair. Anakin had been touched too much, and Obi-Wan too little.



Guess we’re both pretty messed up.



“Is it another Jedi thing?”



“Physical distance made emotional detachment easier,” said Obi-Wan after a beat. “How’s your Force progress coming?”



Anakin blinked at the question; it was…abrupt. A feeling once again started nagging at him. Obi-Wan was deflecting the question. It made him curious about what Obi-Wan wasn’t telling him. There had to be more to the story than the simple statement that Anakin was given. Whatever it was, it was bound to come up again; Anakin didn’t like leaving things alone, but this time he’d let it be…for now anyway. After tonight, they could use a more neutral subject to focus on.



“Better,” he said, answering Obi-Wan’s question, “a lot better. I can even…”



Anakin spied a few rocks on the ground. Unwrapping one arm from Obi-Wan’s waist, he held out a hand, and reached out with the Force, slowly raising the rocks into the air, and spinning them around. Moments later they fell to the ground.



“Not just my shields I’m working on.”



Of all the things Obi-Wan had been slowly teaching him about the Force, learning to control the telekinesis had been his favourite.



“That’s good Anakin. You catch on fast.”



Obi-Wan’s praise always felt like a warm blanket stretching over him. It was honest, and the complete opposite of the “praise” he was used to.



Damn-baby-that’s-good-suck-it-like-that-Sith-those-lips-are-pretty-such-a-good-boy



He shuddered.



“Anakin?” The concern was back in Obi-Wan’s voice.



“I’m fine. It’s nothing. I was just…it’s nothing.”



“…if you’re sure.”



“I am.”



He wasn’t going back there. Not his mind, not his body. That part of his life was over. He could choose for it to be over. There was no brothel, there was no Kerr, there were no clients, and thank the stars there was no Dejiak.



There was only him, and Obi-Wan. The warmth of his arms, the house on the hill behind them, the cliffs, the ocean, and a stray wind. All on this little agricultural world.



Obi-Wan said he wasn’t a slave.



And just maybe he was finally starting to believe him.