Abandoned

A/N: Hmm...I think I have a new fav Star Wars pairing here: Vader/Obi-Wan. Amazing, it managed to beat Sidious/Maul and Sidious/Dooku. O.O Then again, I always did love Vader from the original trilogy better than Anakin from the new movies. So, if anyone knows where to find some Vader/Obi-Wan slash please let me know. *puppy eyes*

Disclaimer: Star Wars, Obi-Wan, Darth Vader, etc. belong to George Lucas, and I am making no money off this!
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At first, it was just a tingle at the outer edges of Obi-Wan’s senses. However, within five seconds it became a blaring siren. The outer door to the exiled Jedi Master’s small, secluded home burst open. Obi-Wan leapt up from his kitchen table as if he’d been scalded. How had he not realized this? How had he no felt this, this presence?!

Even before he saw the intruder, Kenobi heard the intimidating, mechanical breathing. He could easily imagine how it sent shivers down Rebel and Imperial spines alike. He would not be afraid though. Obi-Wan reached out, blanketing himself with the Force as his unwanted guest stepped through the kitchen door. He raised his hand to arm himself, but no sooner had he begun to tap into the Force than his blade went flying in the opposite direction, into the hand of a black clad figure with imposing body armor and a pitiless breath mask.

Darth Vader.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said coolly.

Harsh, mechanized breathing was initially the only response. Then the black clad Sith Lord replied in a gravelly voice, “I believe you are...mistaken. As usual.”

“What do you want here?” the Jedi Master asked, warily keeping his eyes trained on the two lightsabers, his and Vader’s, that had been switched on.

“Information. Perhaps to kill you,” came the nonchalant answer.

“Well then,” Obi-Wan countered, “what are you waiting for?”

The ensuing struggle was brief but violent. Obi-Wan cleverly managed to disarm Vader, but when it came down to a battle of blows, Kenobi took a series of hard punches in the gut. He reeled back, and Vader—of course—pressed his advantage. Black gloved hands grabbed his wrists and slammed him bodily into the nearest wall. Obi-Wan’s head jarred backward against the unyielding stone, and for a few seconds he saw stars skitter across his vision. He had hardly even recovered when he suddenly felt the Dark Lord’s presence all over him, trying to breach Obi-Wan’s Force defenses and get into the Jedi Master’s mind.

“Damn you!” the Sith Lord hissed. Obi-Wan was using the Force to protect his mind from Vader’s. He would have to get past the mental shields before he could even learn anything. Through brute force, that could take days. “Obi-Wan,” he hissed the man’s name furiously right next to the Jedi’s ear, his unnatural breathing making Kenobi’s skin crawl.

As if reading his mind—and he probably had—Vader retorted, a sudden and cruel idea forming in his twisted mind, “I could really make your skin crawl.”

“So you could?” Obi-Wan scoffed despite his ill position. “I’d like to see you tr—oh!”

He arched away from the rocky wall in surprise. It was like touching a livewire as an unanticipated shock burst through him and not an unpleasant shock either. “What are you—?” Obi-Wan didn’t finish that time either as the ecstatic sensation washed over him again. With a mild blush, he realized what Vader was doing: Force-manipulating the pleasure center of his brain to have a most...“stimulating” effect. The sensations, little pushes at his mind that sent him on edge, had begun to move in a rhythm too, even starting to draw a few groans from Obi-Wan’s pursed lips.

As his former master became distracted, Darth switched grips so that he held both of Kenobi’s wrists with only one hand. Maybe it was curiosity that made him do what he did next; after all, he had no need to touch Obi-Wan, just infiltrate his thoughts. Taking his time, Vader slid the other gloved hand down Obi-Wan’s chest, parting the Jedi’s shirt and caressing his exposed skin. Obi-Wan gasped, reflexively arching into the touch, and the Dark Lord felt a slight twinge of anger—even envy—that he couldn’t enjoy touch the same as his old mentor could.

Obi-Wan was certain he’d taken leave of his senses. This was absurd! This was wasn’t real! The hand touching him was not warm skin, just cold machinery. This wasn’t the young man, Anakin, whom he had loved so dearly. This was Darth Vader. Kenobi could feel the stubborn determination reviving inside him, but Vader noticed it too, and he wasn’t about to give his captive a chance to pull himself together.

“Ahhh!” Obi-Wan cried out, startled by the forceful jolt of pleasure that went shooting like electricity up and down his spine. “Stop!” he ordered, but Vader still had him pinned to the wall, and his thoughts were too scattered to concentrate enough to use the Force.

“No.” And that was the only reply he got. His former apprentice yanked on his wrists warningly; he wouldn’t hesitate to break them. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way: either you will tell me what I want, or I will break through your pitiful Jedi mind protection and take what I want. So will you cooperate?”

“Never,” Obi-Wan swore.

“Then that’s your choice.” Vader’s free hand was moving on him again, lower now. The gloved fingers deftly unbuttoned Kenobi’s pants and pushed them down where they bunched around his knees. The Jedi tried to squirm away but it was entirely pointless. Firmly, Vader took the older man in his hand. Obi-Wan struggled to hold in the feelings for his former-Padawan that he’d buried long ago, but Vader—damn him—picked up on the barely tangible emotions anyways. However, even if he hadn’t, the name that slipped from Obi-Wan’s parted lips was more than enough of a clue.

“Anakin...” The Jedi Master’s voice was breathless.

“Well,” the Sith Lord sneered, “that practically answers my next question. The Jedi were never really very wise. You wouldn’t’ve happened to have had any feelings for me when I was your apprentice? Tell me.” Eyes screwed shut, Obi-Wan shook his head from side to side, unable to trust any words that came out of his mouth. “Tell me.” The command issued again, ice cold and demanding no argument.

“Yes...” Ob-Wan finally moaned helplessly. He could barely keep his mental shields up anymore let alone lie.

The Sith gripped him harder, almost painfully. “Then what a shame it’s not him who’s jacking you off. Open your eyes, Jedi, and look who is.”

Obi-Wan obeyed, eyes staring into a sightless mask. There was no shred of his beloved Jedi Knight left in that blank gaze. Darth Vader was right, Anakin Skywalker was dead. That was the last coherent thought Obi-Wan was able to think before Vader increased the already overwhelming intensity. The mental caresses became more invasive, that gloved hand stroking faster. The other hand that held his wrists pressed to the rough stone hard enough to leave bruises no longer had to worry about pinning Kenobi to the wall. If anything, Vader had to hold him up.

With a trembling cry reminiscent of a wounded being, Obi-Wan came hard. Knees unbelievably weak, Darth Vader almost tenderly lowered the shuddering Jedi Master to the floor. What have I done? Obi-Wan thought, pulling his robes closed, hiding inside himself. His mental shields were shattered completely to pieces. It was ironic in a way; after facing torture and near death countless times before, it was this that finally undid him.

True to his name, Vader invaded his mind, searching for information. In a hasty struggle Obi-Wan tried to conceal any knowledge about Luke and Leia and about Yoda’s whereabouts. However, the rest of his mind was laid bare to Vader’s scrutiny. His loneliness on this forgotten planet, the feelings of failure, the loss of his Jedi friends...the Dark Lord prodded mercilessly for any information that could be of use, but at last Obi-Wan forced him back. “S-stop.”

“You’re useless,” Vader said coldly, looking down at the miserable being before him. “Alone, aging...you’re nothing but a burned-out star.” From across the room, Vader’s lightsaber flew into one of his outstretched hands. There was an ominous hum as the Dark Lord’s weapon ignited. He brought the deadly blade practically against the Jedi Master’s throat but not a hair closer. “There’s not even any point in killing you.”

Then the lightsaber was shut off, and Vader made for the door, not caring. It was like before on Mustafar. There, after their fight, Obi-Wan had left Anakin for dead. Now he was the one being left behind to rot in this truly desolate place. When he finally heard the outer door shut, Obi-Wan put his face in his hands.

tbc in a new fic…maybe