The Boys is Trouble

Fingers caressed hot flesh, but it still wasn't the same. Mouths intertwined in hot exchanges of wet passion, but it still wasn't enough. Bodies pressed hastily in the thrumming cadence of physical love, but it wasn't what he wanted.

Another night spent in the fruitless pursuit of released desire was punctuated by the grunts and moans of yet someone else who wasn't him.

It was torture. This night after night seeking of the one flesh to quell his animal desire. The need to placate the demon growing inside his mind. Something he couldn't even bring his lips to express. Thoughts that would overtake his very soul, should he ever give them sound.

Obi-wan Kenobi found himself locked in the arms of a woman. She could be any woman in any sector of the galaxy. This time the woman just happened to be a pleasure servant from one of the many bars in the entertainment district which Obi-wan frequented. It was yet another attempt to banish his padawan from his mind and it was failing miserably. He was failing miserably.

Rolling off her, he had forgotten what she called herself, Obi-wan laid on his back, noting the sweat which poured from his skin, dampening the already humid sheets. The situation was uncomfortable. Somewhere deep inside, he felt bad for the woman with him. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her. She twitched with the pleasure she had received from him, but he had no release. There would be no release for him. If only it was so easy to feel all those sensations, but for him it wasn't.

There would be no release for Obi-wan until he was held in the arms of Anakin. It hurt to covet the boy from so close. Their lives constantly intertwined. Being with him everyday was torturing Obi-wan's very soul.

"Your money is on the table," Obi-wan said in a low voice as he rose from the bed. He dressed hastily and pulled the hood of his robe over his head before stepping out into the busy street.

People milled past him as he stood on the sidewalk. He was jostled back and forth, but he felt nothing. Nothing save the burning desire to taste his padawan. A feeling which burned in the pit of his stomach and had started merely weeks ago.

Anakin had come to him after a lightsaber class that Obi-wan had been teaching. The boys' hair clinging to his forehead from the exertion of the practice. His tan skin glowing from the workout he had just finished. Anakin's expression was solemn and unusual.

"What is it padawan?" Obi-wan asked as he collected his lightsaber and robe from the floor where he had discarded them.

"I need to talk to you," Anakin said his face an expressionless mask. Obi-wan was concerned. There was no spark in the boy. His usual smirk never crossed his lips.

"We can talk in my quarters," Obi-wan said and clamped his padawan on the shoulder, guiding him towards the turbolifts.

When they arrived at Obi-wan's quarters, Anakin flopped into a chair and Obi-wan sat on the edge of the bed, reclining back on his elbows.

"What is on your mind, Anakin?" he asked easily.

"I need to know some things," Anakin said leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Obi-wan sensed a brooding inside his padawan.

"Ask and I will try to answer," Obi-wan said, leaning forward.

"What do you do," Anakin began, licking his lips as he continued, "when you get an overwhelming urge?"

Obi-wan looked at Anakin. The boys eyes were intensely studying his own boots. He was having a hard time looking at his own master.

"What kind of urges?" Obi-wan asked as he studied his padawan. "Are these urges to lash out at someone? To harm someone?"

"No," Anakin said bluntly. "These are physical urges, of a sort."

"Oh!, Oh," Obi-wan said. Anakin was merely a teenager. He had been instructed in meditation, combat and the living force. What many padawans never learned about was sex.

Obi-wan coughed in embarrassment as he felt Anakin's eyes upon him. Qui-gon had taught Obi-wan early about sex and how to manage those feelings. Obi-wan had not explained sex to Anakin and they had been so busy trying to fight the seps, that he just hadn't had the time. Or so he told himself.

"Well, Anakin," Obi-wan started and then stopped. What would he say. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Just tell me," Anakin said finally raising his head, his piercing blue eyes boring into Obi-wan's very soul. Obi-wan's breath caught in his throat and he finally remembered to let it out.

"You handle it yourself," Obi-wan finally said rising from the bed and walking to face the window. "I mean I didn't think I'd have to tell you that."

"Sorry master," Anakin said hanging his head. "What if the object of your urge is close ... all the time."

Anakin was hurting and being a mindful master, Obi-wan could feel his pain.

"Well, then you should distance yourself from the person," Obi-wan replied, now facing Anakin and leaning against the window.

Anakin rose to his feet, his eyes intense again and Obi-wan felt the passion through the force. The intense urge his padawan had been discussing. His senses were being pounded from every direction. Obi-wan struggled to make sense of the jumble, but his head was swimming. Quickly it snapped off just as it had started and Obi-wan shook his head to clear it.

"They are about you," Anakin said, his voice clearing the haze that perpetrated Obi-wan's brain.
* * *
So now, standing on this bustling street, Obi-wan held inside his body the knowledge that his padawan lusted after him. It hurt down deep in his heart because he knew he felt the same way. The realization lifting a shroud from his eyes. He saw things in a different way now.

Obi-wan joined the flow of people and kept his head down. His mind deep in thought.

Obi-wan had banished Anakin from his quarters on that day, but he had not banished him from his mind. The thoughts of his padawan burned inside him.

They had seen each other every day, every hour since the incident. It had taken all of Obi-wan's internal strength to stop himself from telling Anakin he had the same feelings. As he watched the padawan practice his swordsmanship, Obi-wan had felt a flush rise to his cheeks. Telling everyone, he was sure, that he was thinking vulgar thoughts about the teen.

Anakin had been distant. Pushing away probing tendrils from his master. Obi-wan felt the chill from Anakin whenever they met to carry on the charade that they were master and padawan, nothing else. Obi-wan could not handle the anguish he had been feeling.

So he found himself here, now. Still so unsatisfied by anything or any person. The need multiplying by the hour, minute, and second. A burden he felt unable to win against. He just wanted to give in. Oh force, how he wanted to give in.