Crash and Burn

At first, Jacen didn’t recognize the man. He was sitting just outside the abandoned cargo room when he saw a motion out of the corner of his eye, and the other person startled him. A man of average height, with a slender build – muscles laid thinly and tightly over bone – and short, dark hair framing a youthful, shaven face.

“Anakin?”

“Who did you expect?” Anakin asked. He sat down at the edge of the open doorway, a meter off the ground, and swung his legs, which were sheathed in thin black cloth. He began to rub his arms vigorously and scratch them. “Unngh. I’m itching all over.”

“Probably from that soap you used. Soap is strong and you haven’t touched any in six months.”

Anakin nodded in agreement, and sniffed his discarded shirt. “Phew! Maybe that’s it. Or maybe it’s the new skin healing.”

Jacen climbed up into the cargo room and lifted Anakin’s fresh shirt, bunching the fabric up to his armpits. “Your back is already healed; there are only a few marks left, and they’re faint. Might be permanent scars, but I wouldn’t even know they were there if I didn’t know where to look.”

Anakin leaned against Jacen and settled there in the chaste embrace for a few minutes. “Jacen, why did you kill Darth Inferna?”

“I – because – because it had to be done, and it had to be me to do it. Neither you or Welk could; you were hurt and in chains, and Welk was scared of her.”

“Why is that different from the last time the Sith came here?”

“I don’t know.” Jacen held Anakin more tightly. “There was a lot of evil and it had to be stopped before it could do more. Welk was angry, but not rotten all the way down to the core, and not very strong. Inferna – well, I meant what I said. No Sith Lord is ever without a weapon, and I did give her opportunities to leave peacefully. She wanted to stay so she could trap Jaina, and would have killed you to do it.”

“How come you didn’t sit and think about whether it was abuse of the Force or not?”

“Because she was trying to break your neck.” Jacen decided that Inferna must have made an error of judgment. She assumed that Jacen would pull back, avoiding violence and avoiding the Force, and sink into a despair that would overcome his ability to cope and make him send that despair out in waves that would reach his twin sister. She hadn’t counted on him overcoming the suffering itself.

And after his journey to hell, a few moments of self-doubt were nothing.

“Jacen?”

“What now?”

“You smell. Go wash up in the sink.”

“Anakin, we have to ration our supplies,” Jacen said. “We don’t know if we can get any messages out, let alone when.”

“There’s enough water, and a whole jug of soap. It only takes a little – if you scrub hard.”

Jacen nodded, and wondered if there would be as stark a difference in him as there was in Anakin, and so he went into the ship. He found the gleaming sink and splashed filtered water on his face, and then stuck his head under the running water and rubbed a coin-sized amount of soap into his hair and beard. He had to do that four times before the water ran clear instead of murky brown-gray.

He rubbed the rest of his body down with small, wet towels and had an impressive pile of dirty rags when he was done. He was surprised by how pale he was, under the dirt, but overall felt better. Maybe even a little too clean. His arms were beginning to itch a bit as well.

Jacen found an old gray jumpsuit of Welk’s and put it on before tending to the matter of his hair. He picked up a straight razor and hacked away at handfuls of his heavy, damp curls, then shaved his beard and mustache to a light shadow of whiskers.

“Jacen, what are you doing?”

“Cutting my hair and shaving,” he called back.

“You’re doing it all wrong.” Anakin came up behind him and took the razor. He trimmed all over Jacen’s head until his hair was an even and short length, then went over the spots on Jacen’s chin that he’d missed. Finally, Anakin turned him towards a shiny metal cabinet door.

The man in the improvised mirror was smartly dressed in clothes just a little too large for him, and reminded Jacen almost his father, though a few decades younger. Anakin kissed his cheek and then ran his tongue over it, breaking Jacen out of his contemplation.

“Mmm. Even better than I remember,” Anakin said, but then he shivered and seemed to get smaller. “Let’s go back outside; I really don’t like being in here.”

“I don’t either,” said Jacen. He reluctantly pulled away from Anakin and headed toward the open edge of the side room. “Over the next week or so I’ll come in here alone and make it all look different. I’ll take apart all the fixtures in the hallway, too, and it’ll be more like home.”

Anakin shuddered at the mention of the metal corridor, and passed Jacen, in a hurry to be back to the unrestricted outdoors. His relief upon reaching the ground was so clear in the Force that Jacen felt it, and he put his arms around the other man.

Anakin leaned against Jacen for a few minutes, until his breathing and heartbeat slowed, and then he turned around in Jacen’s loose embrace. He looked up into Jacen’s eyes and his own eyes narrowed slightly with an unspoken question.

Jacen answered it by stretching his neck forward and touching his lips to Anakin’s. They stepped closer to each other, now chest to chest and hips to hips, and Anakin held Jacen with one hand in the middle of his back and the other behind his head.

This was no longer a desperate need to quench some inner fire before losing the chance. After passing through the eye of the needle, they had time again; no beast was breathing down on the backs of their necks and threatening their lives, and the strange planet itself was not their enemy. All Jacen felt then was a deep and profound love, attachment that would not, could not be broken even if he wanted to break it. And he didn’t.

He wanted to make it stronger, if that was possible. To be even closer to Anakin than he already was; they were separated only by a few lingering doubts in their minds and two layers of stolen fabric. Anakin seemed to sense the disparity of hearts nearly merging into one, but bodies held apart, and he drew his tongue back from Jacen’s mouth and took a step away.

Fingertips, somewhat weakened but still nimble, pushed buttons through buttonholes, and Anakin removed and tossed aside the wrinkled black jacket he wore. He caught Jacen’s gaze and held his arms out to the sides, waiting for approval.

“If I said you were beautiful, would you get mad at me?” Jacen asked.

“Depends on how you mean it.”

“Beautiful like a sculpture of a young and noble warrior from ancient days. Not like Mom with her hair done up for a session of the Senate.”

Anakin cocked his head to one side and a smile lit up his face. “That wouldn’t make me mad, no.”

Jacen sat on the grassy dirt and Anakin sat down next to him. Once again, Jacen had the man he loved with him, close enough that he could easily wrap both arms around him, but he hesitated. Anakin seemed so vulnerable, so weak, and Jacen didn’t want to take advantage of the-

Anakin surprised him by catching him in a hug this time, with both physical power and self-assurance. “You think a lot of yourself, big brother,” he said. “You saved me a few times, but it’s not like you didn’t need me, too.”

“Don’t you dare think I don’t need you.” Jacen leaned his head down and whispered into Anakin’s ear, even though there was no one around to hear them. “Right now I need you more than I ever did. When I thought you were going to die, I almost lost it. I’ll do anything for you, Anakin.” He sighed and straightened up. “All right, forget I said that. I’m sounding like somebody out of a holodrama.”

“Maybe I don’t care what it sounds like and I just want you to tell the truth.”

“I did tell you the truth,” said Jacen, and he pulled Anakin onto his lap. The other man settled happily onto Jacen’s thighs, and now Jacen smelled traces of soap and the familiar scent of fresh sweat with an undertone of pheromones, growing stronger.

Tingling heat flowed through Jacen’s groin and he hooked his arms under Anakin’s, grasping his shoulders from the front. Anakin shifted his weight a little bit, back and forth. Jacen’s pants were too loose on him to trap his erection, and friction from their clothes and Anakin’s light grinding motions intensified the feeling of barely-contained fire between his legs.

Anakin silently took Jacen’s hand and drew it around to his own belt buckle. Jacen felt his fingers being gently pushed downward, and they brushed against Anakin’s cock, as stiff as his own. “See what you’re doing to me?” Anakin asked.

“Don’t see it, but I feel it.” A few soft strokes continued to affirm what he already knew, and he kissed Anakin’s neck. He struggled to suppress the urge to sit up a little bit and rub himself against the tight buttocks resting neatly on his legs.

Anakin twisted his neck around, lips slightly parted and eyes almost closed. Jacen ran his thumb along the line of Anakin’s jaw and leaned forward, so close that he felt the warmth of his own breath bounce back from Anakin’s cheek. “We’ve waited long enough,” he said softly. “I want you, now, tonight. Before something else happens to us.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” Anakin said. “We’re safe. No, no, Jacen, it’s not like that; I don’t mean that I don’t want you too.” He covered Jacen’s right hand completely with his own and guided it up and down his own erection, twice, and exhaled audibly.

“I meant that we never know what is going to happen. We’re safe for now, from the threat that we just got rid of, but this moment is all we really know. Tomorrow the moon could come down. And if it doesn’t, we can work on getting our communications panel built, but either way there won’t be any regrets. We’ll have a good night of sleep and start fresh tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Anakin murmured. He didn’t seem to need a lot of convincing. “You’re a lot more fun than a tangle of wires, anyway.”

Jacen raised his eyebrow. “You, with your astral knack for putting stuff together, would rather be with me than with a pile of parts?”

“Don’t be stupid, Jace. Of course I would.”

As if to prove the point, Anakin pulled away from Jacen and stood up. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free, which made it necessary for him to hold up his pants. He only did that for a few moments, though, before he popped open the row of snaps along the front and let the dark pants fall around his ankles. Then he stepped out of them.

“You’re wearing Welk’s underwear,” Jacen said with mild disgust.

“They were clean,” Anakin protested, but quickly remedied the problem anyway, by pulling the offending undergarments down over his thin hips and legs, then kicking them away.

And Jacen stared. Anakin was simultaneously brashly brave and vulnerable, hiding nothing. Neither his trimly built form nor his obvious state of arousal could escape the slow scan from Jacen’s eyes. Muscles redeveloped and partially filled out his skeletal frame; wisps of fine hairs scattered the waning sunlight shining on his chest; and Jacen could almost see the throbs pulsing through Anakin’s crotch.

Then his eyes moved to the side, where skin was folded and twisted into scars, and other long cuts criss-crossed their way up Anakin’s side, to a sunken hole in his armpit. The hole had once been filled with a rough scraping tool, and a brief memory of Anakin’s agony wormed its way through Jacen’s mind.

Jacen pulled Anakin to him and gently laid him down on the ground. He leaned over him and rubbed the skin around his many scars and fading bruises, to draw out the lingering pain and calm twitching muscles. Anakin closed his eyes and relaxed while Jacen worked on him, and a smile came over his flushed face and stayed there.

Jacen was almost happy just to be near Anakin, touching him, knowing that his presence helped the other man to feel better. He was happy, but only while willfully ignoring the more basic call of hormones that somehow inched him nearer and nearer, until their bodies were pressed against each other once more, Jacen’s front to Anakin’s now soothed side. His own aching need met resistance – a shaking hip – and he brought his left leg up around Anakin’s, but that did nothing but make him burn faster.

Anakin groaned, and Jacen silenced him by pressing their mouths together and kissing him deeply and firmly. Desire took over, and Jacen broke free in a fury of motion, almost violent in intensity. He didn’t bother with carefully unbuttoning his own shirt, and instead ripped it open down the front and yanked his trousers away.

Now it was Anakin’s turn to stare, and he did. Jacen felt for a second that he was a specimen under a microscope. His only hope was that he wouldn’t be found lacking. When Anakin’s head rolled back, though, and lust filled his crystal blue eyes, Jacen’s confidence returned renewed and he stretched out next to Anakin, and pulled him close.

Anakin twisted onto his side, his back pushed into Jacen’s chest. Jacen kissed him along the ridge of bones in his neck and slipped slightly to the side, sucking on salty, newly dampened skin and nibbling just enough for Anakin to feel his teeth softly nipping at him. He pressed his crotch against Anakin’s ass and drew his hips up and down, his cock blissfully trapped between cheeks. Anakin’s hands grasped backwards, reaching for Jacen, and Jacen took them into his own as their bodies came together.

Then Jacen rolled Anakin over, facing the ground, and Anakin propped himself up on his elbows. Jacen’s hand wandered down in a line from the reddening mark near Anakin’s shoulder down to his lower back, and he slid two fingers to the small opening that would grant him entry to the inside of Anakin’s body.

“You ready?” Jacen asked softly.

Anakin paused briefly before nodding.

Very slowly, Jacen worked his index finger into the tight hole. Anakin’s muscles were too tense to admit anything wider, and warm but mostly dry flesh quivered when Jacen pushed into it. “Try to relax, Anakin,” Jacen whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Anakin’s breathing became more rapid and his hands reached for something to hold onto, finding nothing but grass and bits of dirt. Jacen continued his gentle probing, but found that Anakin’s body wouldn’t yield to him.

Jacen sat up and shook his head. “Roll over and bend your knees. I’m going to try something else.”

Anakin followed the suggestion immediately, and let Jacen push his thighs apart. He clasped his hands behind his head and looked more comfortable, and Jacen smiled at him before brushing his lips against the inside of Anakin’s knee, then up his thigh, to the small crease where his leg met his groin.

He drew the tip of his tongue from the base of Anakin’s cock to the firm head, which slipped smoothly into Jacen’s mouth. Jacen sucked on the sensitive knob with a far lighter touch than he had given Anakin’s shoulder, and felt it harden even more. Anakin gave a low moan. Emboldened, Jacen applied a bit more pressure, and worked his mouth further down, taking more of Anakin in.

Anakin started to roll his hips, and Jacen held him down with one hand on his lower abdomen. He couldn’t speak, but he tugged harder with his lips and made his breaths shallower so that he could open the top of his throat.

After a few minutes, and now with a few drops of musky saltiness on his tongue, Jacen pulled away and got up. He sat between Anakin’s trembling knees and gave the other man a couple of moments to cool down.

“Better now?” Jacen asked.

“Ahh… much better,” Anakin breathed. “But why did you stop?”

“Because I want to make love to you, if you’ll let me.” Jacen leaned forward, hovering over Anakin. “Will you?”

Anakin nodded eagerly and assumed the face-down position again. Jacen had no relief of his own yet, and strained against the desire inside him, desire to take Anakin any way possible and achieve his own satisfaction. It balanced only by love, and Jacen found himself stuck in the tension in the middle.

Jacen found Anakin’s body to be more pliable now, first allowing one finger inside, then two. Anakin made no sound except one sharp inhalation, and Jacen touched his mind with the Force.

Anakin was keeping his fear under tight control, and willing his muscles to stay loose, but Jacen was able to weave his way through Anakin’s mental shields. He quickly withdrew his hand and laid himself down next to Anakin, almost facing him. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

Anakin shrugged his shoulders in shame. “It’s stupid. Don’t worry about me.”

“I want to make you happy, Ani. I want to please you. Tell me.”

Anakin got up, leaning on his elbow, and he absently picked at blades of grass. “Reminds me of being stuck in the corridor.”

“What does? When I touch you?”

“When you have me face down and you’re kneeling behind me. Makes me feel like I’m laid out on that table again and she’s standing behind me with her knife.”

Jacen held Anakin closely and was silent until he felt some of Anakin’s terror dissipate. “Then forget it. If this isn’t good for you, then it won’t be any good for me, and the last thing I want is to remind you of things that are best forgotten. I have another idea.” Jacen got down on his hands and knees and turned around until Anakin was behind him. “You’ll be on top this time.”

“You’re going to let me... go inside?”

“Of course.” Jacen grinned bravely and locked his arms. “Start with your fingers, and when I’m loose enough, use your cock.”

It was not difficult for Jacen to call upon the Force to command his body to mold itself to Anakin’s hesitant strokes. The sensation surprised him, less painful than he expected, and only uncomfortable when he accidentally let himself tense up. After that – strange, but mildly satisfying, though never reaching any termination or release.

He made the requisite groans at the right times, and little by little loosened the ring of muscle until Anakin easily pumped three of his fingers inside. “I’m ready,” Jacen breathed, with more breath and less voice than felt natural.

However, Jacen wasn’t as mentally prepared as he thought he was. Anakin’s stiff erection was a little wider than his fingers put together, and considerably longer, stretching Jacen's insides deeper than he expected. He sucked in a sharp breath and strained to keep himself from the almost involuntary muscular contractions that would push the foreign, though wanted, instrument out of his body. His legs shook and he fought to keep his breathing even.

Then he felt a small burst of pleasant tingles that widened and radiated through his midsection as Anakin drove even further. Jacen thrust his pelvis backwards until he was pressed against Anakin’s body, and moaned as the feeling intensified.

“Jacen, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I'm feeling good.” This time, the exertion in his voice was genuine. “Do it again, Anakin. Pull out most of the way and then take me just like you did.”

Anakin didn’t need to be told twice. He grasped Jacen’s hips and shoved forward into the waiting opening, drawing forth another groan from Jacen.

Anakin’s third stroke angled downward, pressing firmly into the wall of Jacen’s flesh but sending fewer arrows of pleasure through him. Jacen responded by spreading his knees a little bit more and shifting his position. Then the next thrust, and every one after that, rubbed the hot place inside Jacen with even more force than the first two, driving him closer to the edge of ecstasy, but never quite over it.

Anakin rocked back and forth, faster and faster. Their bodies slapped together when he picked up speed, and Jacen gave himself over to the sensations. He kept himself relatively still, anchored to the ground with one arm, and his other hand strayed down between his own thighs. Jacen grasped his own erection and stroked it firmly. “Anakin - harder, Anakin - oh… ohh…” his voice trailed off into incoherent utterances of building rapture.

“I figured out - what I’m doing,” Anakin panted.

Jacen stopped trying to talk. It was hard enough to keep himself from squirming too much, and he wanted his orgasm. He felt it, close, closer, and was caught between wanting to wait for Anakin and wanting release now.

His hand stopped pumping and he concentrated on Anakin, on tightening himself just enough to pull Anakin over with him. He felt like he was going to burst, as though just one more stroke would be too much for him…

Suddenly, Anakin froze in place, buried deep inside Jacen's ass, and gasped, “Jacen… oh, Jacen… ahh… where do you want it?”

Jacen ran his thumb along his own pulsing cock, making circles around the head. He felt his hold on himself break, and every muscle near it contracted. Hot seed surged over his fingers and spilled onto the ground, and his muscles gripped Anakin with an unrelentingly hard hold. “There,” was all he could choke out.

Anakin clutched at Jacen and groaned, one moment before letting go and releasing his own hot stream. He was still for a few seconds, half leaning on his partner and half kneeling by his own power, and then he slipped out of Jacen's body and stretched out on the ground.

Jacen crawled to Anakin’s side and lay next to him. Anakin wore a look of utter contentment - exhaustion and joy combined. They playfully and lazily kissed, with nothing more than a few stray fingers brushing against each other’s chests.

“Thank you,” Anakin whispered.

“No need to thank me. I enjoyed that as much as you did.” Jacen rested against Anakin’s shoulder. He was coming down from his high, now left with a slight melancholy that was only relieved by clinging to his lover and taking in his spicy, almost sharp scent. Emotion washed over him, but he played it off. “So… are you still going to respect me in the morning?”

“Of course I will. I love you, Jacen.” Anakin looked directly into his eyes, turning thoughtful. “I think… I think something happened to me. You and Tahiri. You’ve… changed places for me. I miss her, but I miss her like a friend. You’re the one I want to be with. I don’t ever want to be without you. I want a thousand nights like this one.”

“You won’t be without me,” Jacen said. “I promise.”

“What if we go home?”

“What about when we go home, you mean. We’ll… we’ll think of something. Don’t worry about it.”

Jacen didn’t have any answers either, and he was sure that few would understand the depths of his feelings for Anakin, but at that moment he didn’t care. He just knew that he was in love, and not about to let possible futures cloud what he had with the one in his arms right then.