Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He tried.

Anakin Skywalker tried for kriff's sake.

Unfortunately, effort never amounted to anything when the Council breathed down one's neck, hungry for mishaps and misjudgments.

It was his fault.

That stung the most. Though not nearly sharp enough to unwind and unspool the anger knotted in Anakin's chest, its roots twisted firmly in his heart and lungs. Angrily, he kicked a crate, which toppled over.

The crashing sound didn't satisfy him, nor did it improve this impossible, damned situation. From her corner in the hangar, Ahsoka hissed.

"Sorry, 'Soka," Anakin muttered through gritted teeth.

Her eyes, luminous and bright blue, blinked once. He didn't receive a verbal response, which was impossible when his Padawan was feral. Anakin hadn't thought...

Honestly, he hadn't expected that Ahsoka wouldn't...

Of course, he should have known -- or at least suspected. Unfortunately, Ahsoka had the worst Master in the Temple. So, he hadn't recognized Ahsoka's gradual slide until it was too late.

His Padawan needed soothing and proper care, but Anakin couldn't breathe through his anger. He knew what was required of him, but Anakin couldn't offer it.

He had to calm down.

Ahsoka's shoulders hunched further, a pained groan escaping past her lips, distorted by the fangs filling her mouth. Instinctively, Anakin stepped forward, driven by aggressive alpha instincts and human concern. Instantly, Ahsoka uncurled from her position to crouch in her corner, every muscle tense.

Cursing loudly, aggravating his Padawan further, Anakin stumbled backward, tripping over his feet and crashing into the crate he had kicked earlier. Searing pain shot through the small of his back when he landed awkwardly on the ground, the edge of the crate digging into his skin.

His right hand, balled into a tight fist, had already punched the floor before he could stop himself. An indent remained, testimony of the superhuman strength contained in his prosthetic hand.

Ahsoka would die.

Unless he got her out of her feral state, she would refuse to eat, drink, and sleep until either dehydration, starvation, or sleep deprivation got to her. Maybe the elevated levels of alpha hormones in her blood would kill her first, and Anakin had missed all the signs.

He had broken his Padawan, albeit inadvertently, by sending her on a doomed mission, and he couldn't fix what he had broken. He couldn't resurrect her squadron; they were all dead. And soon, his Padawan would be too.

He didn't know what to do.

Fixing broken machinery was Anakin's specialty, but these skills were useless when his Padawan retreated further under the fuselage of her ship, the paint still scraped and chipped after the barrage of fire that had killed her squadron.

Anakin's fault.

Alpha hormones held Anakin in a choke hold, rendering him nauseous. In her feral state, Ahsoka could pick up his agitation from the other side of the hangar, and Anakin was forced to admit nothing he did would help her.

He needed help, which was a bitter pill to swallow.

With one last lingering glance at his Padawan, he strode to the Resolute's bridge.

"Contact General Kenobi," he ordered the clones on duty. His admiral approached him before smelling the alpha aggression on Anakin and rethinking his strategy. In the long minutes it took before the call connected, the pent-up energy made Anakin pace the bridge.

The clones, all betas, wouldn't smell the frustration and barely repressed alpha aggression rolling off of him in suffocating waves, but they could sense the tension in the air and gauge his terrible mood with one glance.

Finally, the call connected.

"Master," he blurted out instantly, his voice laced with urgency and enough fear to make him choke on it. "Ahsoka needs you. It's an emergency."

I need you, he didn't add because his pride, a roaring alpha beast, wouldn't allow him to admit this fundamental truth.

He knew Obi-Wan was aboard the Negotiator in the same sector. However, that didn't mean Obi-Wan would be ready, willing, or prepared to jump ship to fix Anakin's latest mess-up. Oh, Anakin hated this powerlessness. The flickering Holo image of Obi-Wan narrowed its eyes.

"Anakin?" he asked. "What trouble did you land yourself in?"

"There is no time, Master," Anakin confessed. "Please."

The plea tasted like ashes on his tongue and coated his throat and lungs in tar, but he had no choice. Obi-Wan sighed, a tense exhale.

"Very well, Anakin. I'll be there in... Waxer, would you be so kind as to calculate the trajectory and ETA?"

"Two hours, sir," a clone responded.

"I'll be there soon, Anakin," Obi-Wan promised. 

Anakin couldn't identify the emotions rising inside him, though he knew Obi-Wan would deem them too intense. His relief and gratitude were tainted by his stubbornness and wounded dignity. Stifling the stabbing humiliation, he turned away from the Holo table.

"Thanks, Master," he managed through gritted teeth, his alpha ego too wounded to allow more.

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

As he fretted and waited, Anakin realized Obi-Wan had abandoned his fleet, his men, and his mission because Anakin had called. Although a soothing balm on his browbeaten pride, he still strained against the need to tell Obi-Wan Anakin was doing fine.

Mostly because nothing about this situation was fine.

Yet, his anger melted when Obi-Wan's Starfighter landed in a different hangar bay, skidding to a stop elegantly. Anakin rushed to the cockpit, anxiously waiting for Obi-Wan to disembark.

"Are you alright, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked immediately, his concern evident in his voice and expression.

"I am," Anakin whispered. "But Ahsoka isn't. I haven't told the men, Master, but she has gone feral."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose.

"Did she now?"

"I've kept the situation under wraps, barring access from the hangar she hides in, but Master, I can't get through to her. She has to go to medbay, but she refuses to cooperate."

"She must have learned that obstinacy somewhere," Obi-Wan remarked wryly.

Anakin wrung his hands. Describing Ahsoka's situation called his own panic to the forefront of his mind and turned him frantic. Anakin knew he was too close to turning feral himself for anyone's comfort.

A steadying breath achieved nothing.

 "Show the way, Anakin. Then, we will asses what assistance we can provide your Padawan," Obi-Wan told him, effortlessly assuming a commanding position. This tended to chafe under normal circumstances, the urge to bare his teeth in a rejection of Obi-Wan's alpha dominance always close to the surface. Now, relief made Anakin press his lips into a thin line, for he would sob otherwise.

"Yes, yes," he murmured hurriedly.

A low hiss from one shadowed corner greeted them as they entered the correct hangar. Tucked away under the belly of the Starfighter assigned to her, Ahsoka watched them, her blue eyes glinting with fever.

"Now, that is not good," Obi-Wan concluded.

"I know," Anakin whined, raking his hands through his hair and pulling harshly. Part of him was swept up in the tension again, instinctively reacting to Ahsoka's feral state. "Her squadron was killed."

"Hello, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan greeted her. He had pitched his voice low and gentle like one would address a wild animal preparing to lash out. For a moment, Ahsoka's hissing stopped.

Then, as soon as Obi-Wan took one step forward, the hissing transformed into growling and snarling. Ahsoka's throat was already sore after Anakin's previous attempts, and the sounds she produced sounded painful. Wincing in sympathy, Anakin balled his hands into fists. He hated feeling powerless; he hurt watching his Padawan suffer.

"Quiet, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan told her, an order that made the hairs on Anakin's neck rise. It could work. From Ahsoka's perspective, Obi-Wan would be the de facto pack leader of their tiny pack consisting solely of alphas. So, an order might work.

Alternatively, it could make things worse. Because now Anakin was riled up, and Ahsoka lashed out in the Force.

Despite these extenuating circumstances, Anakin shouldn't respond in kind. He shouldn't react poorly to his own Padawan, who had turned feral because Anakin had sent her on a mission he never should have approved. Nonetheless, he turned aggressive, taking a threatening step in Ahsoka's direction. A low growl vibrated in his chest, gradually rising in volume.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan barked. "Calm down."

Anakin knew he had to listen to Obi-Wan for Ahsoka's sake. Similarly, he knew Obi-Wan hadn't used an alpha command. Yet, his tenuous grip on his self-control, perpetually slipping, barely held him together.

"Should we call Rex?" Anakin asked. Rex was a beta, someone Ahsoka trusted, a friend, and most importantly, he could keep a secret. He wouldn't tell anyone Ahsoka had gone feral.

"I'm afraid that is not an option. If Ahsoka lunges, we will stand a chance. Rex, however competent your captain is, will not."

Anakin could imagine Ahsoka's guilt if she discovered she had hurt one of the clones while feral. Although Anakin considered them good companions, Ahsoka seemed to view them as part of her family, and this closeness... well, Anakin hadn't discouraged it like a good Jedi would.

The war had already taken so much, after all. Furthermore, it would be the height of hypocrisy.

"Okay," he sighed. "Okay," he repeated, his voice turning desperate. "Is there nothing we can do?" The question was a frustrated, powerless demand. Despite knowing he aimed his anger -- that rightfully, Anakin should level at himself -- at an innocent bystander, he couldn't control it.

"You won't like my solution," Obi-Wan mused, stroking his beard as he watched Ahsoka shuffle in the shadows.

"Do what you must," Anakin ordered. "I refuse to let my Padawan wither away like a feral beast."

"And that makes you a wonderful Master, Anakin. Well then, I would like to apologize in advance."

Anakin narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. "For what?"

But Obi-Wan had already reached over, his hand curling around the nape of Anakin's neck, who instinctively protested the scruffing by baring his teeth and trying to escape the grip. Obi-Wan proved stronger. He had always been a better brawler, and he forced Anakin to his knees with the single hand on Anakin's neck. Spitting fury, Anakin obeyed, his knees growing weak and giving out under him while on the way down. In his mind, hysterics and confusion fought a battle, Anakin's panicked thoughts racing as he wondered what Obi-Wan was doing to him. Obi-Wan didn't gloat over the hard-won submission. Instead, he knelt by Anakin's side, leaning in to wrap his teeth around the vertebrae in Anakin's neck, holding him in place by teeth alone.

The ultimate sign of dominance only an alpha could establish, and Anakin, who had already surrendered to the hand around his neck, didn't offer any fight. An alpha should rather die than let another alpha pin them to the ground in complete supplication, but drowsiness killed his urge to fight. His limbs had grown too heavy to move, and his body, bent into impossible angles, had relaxed more than it had since the war started.

His thoughts, ever racing, had fallen quiet under the first press of teeth against his neck, applying pressure in a warning. Anakin's stomach had plummeted as a part of him worried about how close Obi-Wan was to breaking through skin and accidentally bonding them. Yet, the only sound Anakin could still produce was a high-pitched, almost girly whine. His panic was muted before disappearing altogether.

Neither moved for a long time, during which Anakin's mind drifted.

Eventually, Obi-Wan pulled away, gradually releasing his grip on Anakin's neck, who had never been scruffed by an alpha before. No one had ever tried to assert their dominance over Anakin in such a base manner. And he didn't know what to do or how to react. So, he remained folded and slumped on the grated floor of the hangar, blinking dumbly at Obi-Wan.

"Try again, Anakin," Obi-Wan ordered, his voice hoarse and so gravely each word dragged in his throat. The Coruscanti accent was sharper than ever, distorting the three words heavily. Puzzled, Anakin met Obi-Wan's gaze, surprised to meet blown-out pupils and a tension in Obi-Wan's expression that made the muscles in his stomach tense repeatedly.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his voice still higher pitched than usual and breaking on the mono-syllabic answer. "Yeah," he repeated, but his voice failed to return to normal.

Scrambling to his knees took effort, but Obi-Wan didn't offer help, putting more distance between them instead. He couldn't stand, Anakin discovered then. His legs were too weak to support his weight. Usually, the humiliation would burn brightly in him, turn him snappish, and spark alpha aggression. Instead, the natural aggression was absent, leaving a gaping wound that bled uncertainty.

"Obi-Wan?" he asked weakly, which prompted Obi-Wan to rush to his side immediately. His broad hands slid over Anakin's body to help Anakin support his weight. Obi-Wan lifted him to his feet. Anakin's feeble attempts to help only slowed the process. When Obi-Wan stepped away again, Anakin's legs wobbled like a newborn foal's. Nevertheless, he didn't collapse to the floor again. Instead, he turned to Ahsoka, walking with an uneven and unsteady gate to his Padawan, who regarded him with suspicion.

Unlike before, however, she didn't snarl or lunge. Nor did she retreat further into her corner under her Starfighter. This was progress, Anakin knew, the one crystal clear thought amongst the jumble of other foreign, panicked thoughts he refused to entertain.

Relieved, he slumped to the floor by Ahsoka's side, slowly lifting a hand to pat her montrals. Against all odds, Ahsoka allowed another alpha to pat her head, though she narrowed her eyes at Anakin anyway.

"Hey, Snips," Anakin greeted her, his voice sluggish but no longer as oddly pitched as before. "Can you calm down for me? Then, I'll take you to medbay. You want to go to medbay, right?"

Usually, the answer would be a resounding no. But Ahsoka, operating on instinct, couldn't understand what Anakin had asked. She could, however, glean a lot from his tone. Since Anakin's voice lacked the usual alpha dominance -- which sounded so weird and unfamiliar to Anakin's ears -- she merely huffed.

Anakin's fingers trembled as he slipped an arm under Ahsoka's legs and behind her back. Still, she didn't attack him or retreat deeper into the hangar, apparently content to let Anakin lift her in the air.

"Well done, Anakin," Obi-Wan called from the side hoarsely. A shudder ran down Anakin's spine, the praise sparking sensations like a phantom touch. The spark started in the base of his neck, where Obi-Wan's teeth had gripped him carefully, forcing submission from him. Shakily, he lifted to his feet, ignoring the sparks settling low in his belly and the instinctual urge to bare his throat and beg for more praise with high-pitched whimpers.

With Ahsoka tucked safely against his chest, he joined Obi-Wan. Ahsoka huffed at Obi-Wan but no longer hissed or simulated tearing out his vocal cords. This was progress, though she was still feral.

Together, they brought her to medbay, where the medic on duty gave Ahsoka an injection to bring down her alpha hormones to acceptable levels. Although Anakin wished to stay by her side, there was always work to do. Furthermore, he wasn't exactly eager to be present when Ahsoka came down from her feral high, and the medic would lecture her.

Anakin had seen that particular expression on plenty of clones, and he knew it meant a long, frustrated lecture was underway.

So, he excused himself and headed to the bridge with Obi-Wan.

Neither discussed what had happened in the hangar bay. Anakin foolishly assumed that everything would return to normal if they ignored what had happened. Things tended to do that, after all.

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

Ahsoka going feral had been an excellent reminder that Anakin should take care of his body. Letting the alpha aggression build to high levels was dangerous, and the loss of control was not one he could afford in the middle of the war.

Today, Obi-Wan had hurried to their side to fix the issue. Tomorrow, he could be in another corner of the galaxy. Then, no one would be around to help.

So, Anakin isolated himself in his private refresher -- one of the many perks of being a general -- and ran a finger over his flaccid cock.

If he popped one knot, he would be sated for a bit, aggression softened by contentedness.

Banishing all his anxious thoughts to a corner of his mind, where they lived in permanent twilight -- in a Darkness Anakin preferred to ignore -- he focused on the tip, rubbing his thumb over the head before moving to the base where his knot would pop.

To his surprise, the sensitive nerves in his deflated knot didn't respond to the simulation. It felt like petting the back of his hand, a touch but no more than that. Confused, his hand migrated back to the tip of his dick, his breathing accelerating when he pressed a thumb to the slit, applying pressure until his dick grew harder and a single drop of clear precome smudged on his thumb. Arousal pooled heady and hot in the pit of his stomach.

With his cock hard and heavy in his hand, he shifted his grip, closing fingers around himself and stripping his erection in hard strokes from the unresponsive knot at the base to his slit, which wept clear precome, which felt more like water than the consistency Anakin was used to.

Part of him registered these changes, but he couldn't worry when burning need made him move his hand faster in a punishing rhythm. Each shallow inhale was a burst of air he almost forgot to take. He tipped forward, forehead resting against the cold tiles, feeling so feverish that the tiles were a shock.

He was close, he recognized absentmindedly.

Coming without popping a knot wasn't half as good; it was worse than a ruined orgasm, so Anakin let his prosthetic hand wrap around the base of his cock, praying the gaps between the plating wouldn't catch skin. Gently, he squeezed, achieving absolutely nothing.

More panicked now, he applied more pressure, desperately whining when his knot remained deflated, and his bruising grip only communicated pain. There was no pleasure. Yet, Anakin couldn't stop his left hand from pumping.

Unbidden, he spilled. Unlike usual, his come was clear and watery. There was too little, splattering on the wall in thin, jerky streams. The release Anakin had needed never arrived, his orgasm ruined by the absence of a knot. His knees gave out under his weight, and he crashed onto the floor, pain echoing through his knees on impact. Sobbing without tears, he let his hands fall away, the left one covered in the clear fluid that wasn't semen.

Something was wrong, Anakin knew. And he strongly suspected it was connected to the submission Obi-Wan had wrung from him. Relieved, he sighed.

If that were true, then his body would remember soon enough. He was an alpha, after all. At sixteen, he had presented, so his body knew how to function. This was a mishap, a small error, only a hiccup that would smooth over soon.

His legs trembled as he stood, his knees red with the promise of bruises. Despite still reeling from the ruined orgasm, unreleased tension sat heavy in his belly. He craved relief desperately, but Anakin ignored his body's demands. Instead, he switched on the sonic to clean up.

At least the small amount of clear liquid was cleaned swiftly.

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

The following morning, Anakin's situation hadn't improved. Panting with misery and exertion, he glared wildly at his reflection in the mirror. No knot, no semen, a ruined orgasm, and the pheromones in the air lacked the distinct tang of a dominant alpha.

It smelt too sweet.

Nervously, Anakin shook his head, tracing two fingers over his neck. Immediately, he snapped, his teeth bared and fangs dropping to fill his mouth. His snarl was distorted by the fangs.

Well, that reflex still worked.

Obi-Wan had almost mated him, he recalled. If Obi-Wan's teeth had nicked him, breaking the skin, thus allowing Obi-Wan's saliva to mix with Anakin's blood, they would have bonded. A shudder ran through Anakin, his curled upper lip lowered, covering his teeth as the snarl was wiped from his face. Anakin's hand still curled around the back of his neck, a demand for submission that should have him foam at the mouth.

Instead, he stared at his reflection calmly.

This calm lasted no longer than three deep breaths. Then, it turned into hysterical laughter. Anakin's alpha dominance had irked the Council countless times, had earned him many a lecture from Obi-Wan, and turned negotiations into brawls. Now, it was gone.

Eventually, he calmed down, though his shallow breathing was still erratic.

"I'm an alpha," he told his reflection. Yet, his fangs retracted while his hand tightened around his neck until his grip hurt. If he applied more pressure, he would bruise, and Anakin didn't think he could explain those bruises away.

His hand lowered to his side again.

His sigh couldn't encompass the frustration of another ruined orgasm, the responsibility he wore for Snip's feral state, and his body's failure to be an alpha.

Because Anakin Skywalker was a kriffing alpha. Maybe his pheromones had softened a smidgen, but it was still a sharp, almost stinging, scent. An alpha scent. Many alphas didn't stink of their need to dominate a room or aggression -- just like Obi-Wan.

Maybe he had just mellowed.

With a last derisive glare at his reflection, Anakin turned away.

Yeah, right.

This was all Obi-Wan's fault, but Anakin could hardly confront Obi-Wan with these changes to his body. Feeling oddly self-conscious, he straightened his back, his alpha posturing an effort instead of instinct.

At the entrance to the bridge, he paused. His shoulders -- kept rigid and squared to keep up the appearance he brimmed with restless energy -- slumped in relief. Ahsoka leaned against the Holo table, animatedly gesturing as she talked, an innate alpha trait that Anakin had never noticed.

Obi-Wan hadn't left, he realized next. Instead, he stood on the Resolute's bridge as he listened to Ahsoka, nodding along and smiling mildly. A strange uncertainty sat heavily in the pit of Anakin's stomach, an unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability that made him wrap his arms around his stomach. Realizing he had hunched his shoulders, he corrected his posture, adopting a swagger as he stepped onto the bridge. 

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan turned in his direction simultaneously.

"Master," Ahsoka greeted him. "Thank you for bringing me to the medbay."

"I'm glad to see you well and discharged," Anakin told her, so relieved his Padawan had survived that his knees felt weak.

Ahsoka laughed, an awkward edge to her voice.

"You were released from the medics' care, were you not?" Obi-Wan asked her.

Ahsoka looked caught, her hands gesturing helplessly. Then, she raised her chin defiantly. "After careful consideration, I believed I should listen to my Master's advice," she claimed, never specifying what nugget of wisdom she referred to. Likely some ill-advised stunt Anakin had pulled to escape or evade Kix's gentle care. Anakin was paralyzed by the disorienting impulse to step back and yield ground to his Padawan when she pinned him with a gaze.

She intimidated him, he realized, as he ground his teeth to suppress the urge to cower in fear before Obi-Wan and Ahsoka.

"Be that as it may, once you're back on Coruscant, the Temple healers won't let you escape that easily," Obi-Wan warned her. "Nor would I recommend following Anakin's example, young one."

Anakin's affronted protest withered on his tongue when he jerked his head in Obi-Wan's direction and met his piercing gaze. He choked on his disgruntled 'hey' while puzzled by the need to tilt his throat and bare his neck. Although Anakin had checked and confirmed Obi-Wan's manhandling hadn't left any traces, the back of his neck burnt like Obi-Wan's teeth still rested against his skin.

Nervously, he allowed his gaze to dart away before he steeled himself. The reminder he was an alpha was quickly turning into a mantra that Anakin kept repeating in his mind. So, he met Obi-Wan's gaze, ignoring the faint tremble he could feel in his fingers.

"Very funny. Are we waiting for a Holo call?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level.

Perhaps Obi-Wan had expected a rebuke because his eyebrows furrowed, and Anakin's head tipped back a centimeter before he could stop the motion.

Sith Hells, he was in trouble. What was wrong with his body?

He could feel Obi-Wan's gaze linger on the bared column of his throat, eyes focused with an intent that made Anakin's knees buckle. Distracted, he staggered back until the small of his back hit the Holo table, rattling the table.

"It's the locals, Master," Ahsoka told him, and Anakin nodded absentmindedly. "The Seppies used the moon to sneak on the planet while we fought them here. We fell for their distraction. It's an occupation, Master. We're waiting for a call to action."

Her voice wavered, and Anakin's heart ached for his Padawan, who had lost her squadron.

"You can sit this one out, Ahsoka," Anakin told her, hoping she would accept his offer. In fact, even if she refused, he wouldn't let her onto the battlefield so soon after going feral. It would be the height of irresponsible.

Ahsoka shook her head as she lifted her chin proudly. Anakin's guts quivered, an awkward vulnerability grabbing him by the throat. It was a strange sensation as if Ahsoka's stubbornness bruised his soul, which was already sore from verbal blows that hadn't landed yet.

"Snips," he warned, but his voice lacked the confidence it usually held. Instead, he sounded breathless and uncertain, almost scared.

Unimpressed, Ahsoka stepped forward, another gesture Anakin had never associated with dominance until he had to grit his teeth to withstand it. Things he had found endearing in his Padawan, a recently presented alpha who still struggled with controlling those new instincts, now intimidated him despite knowing Ahsoka was his Padawan.

Thickly, he swallowed.

"I'm fine, Master," she insisted. "I have to go, or I won't dare to..."

Her voice trailed off, her fists balling by her side, and Anakin could almost taste her guilt in the air, heavy in her pheromones. Before he could offer reassurances, an incoming call interrupted them, the Holo projector switching on to reveal the image of a haggard Twi'Lek.

"The droids have swarmed the city," they whispered. The Holo table artificially increased the volume of their voice. "We may not have much longer. Sir Jedi, we need your help."

Blaster fire and static followed as the Twi'Lek dove out of the Holo recorder's range. Then, the call ended, too. As static died, a tense silence reigned on the bridge.

Ahsoka wrung her hands, likely blaming herself for their failure to keep the Separatists out of the system.

"We couldn't have known it was a distraction, Snips," he reminded her, keeping his gaze fixed on the Holo table. "Don't beat yourself up over this. Instead, look at the situation and determine what you can do to improve things."

"Yes, Master," Ahsoka said, but the determination in her voice was faked, revealing her anxiety.

"Why don't you round up Torrent Company?" Anakin asked, hoping that sending Ahsoka to her self-proclaimed pack would help her regain her footing. He feared only a resounding victory over the Separatists would help her regain her confidence.

"On it, Skyguy," she told him, the enthusiasm in her voice genuine. Anakin watched her leave the bridge with a fond smile, glad he had managed to do something right.

Then, he realized he and Obi-Wan were alone for the first time since Obi-Wan had teased submission out of him. Swallowing thickly, he darted a glance at Obi-Wan, who met his gaze with a quirked eyebrow. A silent question that felt closer to a demand, and Anakin was...

Caught red-handed.

Nervously, he turned to Obi-Wan, who stepped into his personal space, crowding him. He had never noticed before, but the proximity suddenly alarmed him. He wasn't scared, though. The emotions choking him were a far more insidious heady anticipation. The back of his neck burnt with a phantom touch. Thickly, he swallowed again, his throat working reflexively.

"I want to confirm that you are fine after yesterday," Obi-Wan muttered, keeping his voice low so none of the officers on the bridge would overhear.

Anakin nodded. "I'm fine," he insisted.

Obi-Wan's close scrutiny was daunting, but Anakin weathered it admirably, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze head-on. For a second, he believed Obi-Wan would give him a patented, dispassionate 'If you are sure', dripping with exasperation, sarcasm, and the knowledge Obi-Wan had at least tried to do his duty.

Even the prospect made Anakin's blood boil. He was not Obi-Wan's responsibility. Anakin could handle himself.

"You are not fine. Please bear in mind that we will lead these men into battle. A lapse in focus will mean certain death to them, Anakin," Obi-Wan lectured him sternly, acting like Anakin didn't care.

Like Anakin wasn't haunted by nightmares and this responsibility, which he struggled to carry on good days.

Anakin hadn't lost his alpha aggression, he discovered. Unfortunately, he made this discovery while snapping at an unimpressed Obi-Wan. Which meant he had lost control anyway.

"I can do it," he protested, his shoulders squared, fists balled, eyes glinting, and his upper lip pulled back in a snarl. Hopefully, Obi-Wan didn't notice Anakin's alpha fangs hadn't elongated. "Do not underestimate me, Master."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan cautioned him, and a hand curled around Anakin's shoulder. Although Obi-Wan didn't squeeze or apply pressure, Anakin still froze, his mind stalling. Static filled his ears as he breathed through the urge to whimper.

Anakin Skywalker did not whimper ever.

So, he pressed his lips into a tight line and shuffled away from the Holo table awkwardly, which made Obi-Wan's hand slip from his shoulder. Nevertheless, a phantom touch still burnt hotly, so close to the crook of his neck that Anakin's instincts had gone haywire as a precaution.

However, the initial urge to lash out was soon overwhelmed by the need to comply and bare his throat. Fortunately, he had growled lowly during that initial burst of aggression, masking that his scent hadn't followed suit or that his growled threat was remarkably short-lived.

"My apologies," Obi-Wan said, sounding shocked. "I don't know what came over me."

Alphas only reached for other alphas' necks when they tried to establish dominance; it was a provocation at best and a declaration of war typically. But Anakin had frozen after that first growl, staring at the projector wide-eyed while his lips moved around silent words.

"I'm very sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan continued, concern thick in his voice. Whether this was concern about Anakin's lack of reaction or his own uncharacteristic loss of control, Anakin couldn't tell. Likely the latter, he judged.

He twisted away further, needing the space between them as he panted at the Holo table, his frenetic expression staring back at him from the shiny durasteel. Conflicting impulses battled inside him, and the overwhelming urge to collapse on the Holo table in complete surrender for Obi-Wan appeared to win.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his sharp Coruscanti accent turning Anakin's name odd. Sometimes, this aggravated Anakin. Other times, it amused him. Now, he turned automatically, his mind replaying Obi-Wan uttering his name. This old familiarity reassured him; it reminded him he could fall back on these old habits when his body failed him.

"Yes, Master?"

The confused concern in Obi-Wan's expression made him bristle for a split second. He was an independent knight, an alpha who had proven himself, and Obi-Wan should do well to remember Anakin could and would bare his fangs if provoked. In fact, he just had -- minus the inoperative fangs, but that was semantics.

Then, the impulse to react to an imaginary challenge, for Obi-Wan would never debase himself to acting like a stereotypical knothead, died.

He huffed, annoyed with himself and oddly intimidated by Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan's presence felt large, though Anakin stood slightly taller than him. Obi-Wan's steadfast gaze and innate confidence in his stance communicated that Obi-Wan expected his commands to be followed. He unconsciously projected alpha dominance all alphas vied for and coveted, but Obi-Wan commanded it like it was meaningless or trite.

Anakin stifled the urge to bow like a reed. Partly because he would rather break. Mostly because Obi-Wan would realize something was wrong with Anakin, and Anakin despised medbay.

"I'm fine, Master," he claimed with feigned boldness. "Come on, this will not be the first time we retake a city from the seppies on this karked dust ball. I could beat those droids in my sleep. It will be a breeze."

Obi-Wan grimaced.

"On paper, it does appear rather straightforward," he agreed. "But we both know these missions are highly unpredictable."

The admonishing tone chafed, but Anakin couldn't muster any frustration. To his intense embarrassment, he whined lowly, a pitiful sound in a strange pitch.

Obi-Wan blinked.

Anakin coughed loudly to mask his whine.

"The air is... dry," he said, his voice overly loud and abrasive to his own ears.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded.

"Just let me know when you want to talk about what bothers you, Anakin."

Anakin.

Why was Anakin so compelled to lean in Obi-Wan's direction when Obi-Wan uttered his name? His haywire instincts shouldn't impact how he perceived Obi-Wan's voice, right? They shouldn't tempt him to bare his throat and his belly to another alpha.

Uneasily, Anakin left the bridge. He had hoped distancing himself from the other two alphas aboard the Resolute would calm him. Sith Hells, he even considered meditation to work through his instincts and remedy whatever Obi-Wan had inflicted on him.

Of course, he hoped walking through the corridors of the Resolute would work before he had to resort to such drastic measures.

Instead of serenity, his echoing footsteps made tension rise in him, the stress a knot in his stomach.

Admittedly, the Resolute was safe. Nevertheless, all his instincts told him he was in dangerous territory; the clones and officers milling about were kind, but he couldn't trust them. 

They were kind.

And Anakin did trust them. However, misery made him feel small, fragile, and awfully aware everyone was a potential threat. He craved a sense of security, which even isolating himself wouldn't achieve. He needed a safe environment to recover from the overwhelming timidness -- from that wide-eyed, pathetic vulnerability.

Despite being home, the Resolute wasn't a safe environment. Even alone in a corridor, the urge to isolate himself further remained. Anakin wanted to curl up like a tiny animal that could bury its nose under a tail wrapped protectively around its body. Not to sleep, but to doze and languish -- to watch the world curiously.

Dimly, Anakin recognized he was tired, unnerved, and still off-balance from the forced submission. It had upset his hormone production, he told himself. All he needed was time to strike a new balance.

Meditation would help, but he was tired from two ruined orgasms that left him wired, and nagging uncertainties haunted him. He only wanted to hide under a desk or cot, concealed by shadows.

He wanted to feel secure and cared for, but he was alone and couldn't lower his guard.

Shocked, Anakin stopped walking, staring wide-eyed at a white wall. His mind had spun out of control, imagining and needing things that had never occurred to Anakin.

"A fight," he whispered urgently. "I just need a good fight, and everything will be fixed."

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

Less than an hour later, clones entered the LAAT/i gunships, which would bring them to the surface. The boarding had already begun when Anakin stormed into the hall. His attempt at brief meditation had turned into a nap.

Sleep did nothing to improve his disposition, but Anakin had run out of time to fix his body and hormones. When he saw Obi-Wan and Ahsoka in the hall, talking to Rex, Anakin paused. He knew he had arrived late, and Obi-Wan would have a scathing taunt ready. Oh, Anakin knew he would receive some form of criticism, and he didn't think he could receive any without crying or crumpling like wet cardboard, folding into a pitiful pile of vulnerability -- of bruises and lacerations and a thrumming need for comfort.

He was in so much trouble.

He steeled himself, actively searching for a shadow of the alpha aggression that had controlled him before. He found less than fumes. Maybe his long strides were akin to slinking, but it was all he could muster. Sullenly, he joined Obi-Wan in the hangar, watching his men prepare.

Since Anakin expected a lecture, he kept his gaze fixed on two clones dragging a fuel line through the hangar, steadfastly ignoring Obi-Wan. However, no lecture followed, and Anakin's curiosity made him glance in Obi-Wan's direction, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

Evidently, Obi-Wan stared at him, though Anakin couldn't tell why. Or rather, Obi-Wan stared at his neck. Self-consciously, Anakin cleared his throat. This seemed to jolt Obi-Wan out of his staring.

"Ready to deploy?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"Yes, Master."

"Excellent," Obi-Wan replied before shaking their head. "Anakin," he said, abruptly changing the flow of their stilted conversation. Anakin's exhale shuddered in his throat, the use of his name chasing shivers down his spine.

It had to be unease because Anakin couldn't identify what this thrill could otherwise be.

"I think we should address what happened."

Obi-Wan had wrangled submission from him, curling his hand around the back of Anakin's neck and working him to the ground. Doing so had saved Ahsoka's life. Simultaneously, their rescue had doomed Anakin, who grew increasingly resigned to the idea more sleep, rest, or meditation wouldn't undo the changes to his body.

"It is fine," Anakin said tersely. "Everything is fine."

"Evidently, something is wrong, Anakin."

Anakin barely swallowed a frustrated cry and demand to stop using his name when it turned his mind into a mess. Instincts and hormones prompted impulses Anakin couldn't decipher because he was an alpha.

"Let it go, Obi-Wan," he warned Obi-Wan. The fact he had challenged an alpha should fuel his natural aggression as his body geared up for a fight. Instead, his knees trembled while his stomach dropped in free-fall. Nervously, he flexed his fingers, the palm of his organic hand uncomfortably clammy.

Nature dictated Obi-Wan should react in kind, but Obi-Wan had always been above the emotions that ruled Anakin. So, he shook his head minutely. Then, he relented. Ahsoka observed their exchange with wide eyes, her head shifting between them like she was watching an intense match.

"Remember, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, apparently still not done using Anakin's name. "You can talk to me."

Frankly? Anakin would rather choke on this mess than confide in Obi-Wan. However, as he met Obi-Wan's gaze, all his anger evaporated, which allowed the sense of intimidation to return tenfold. Anakin's breathing grew shallow, and he felt like cornered small prey. Thickly, he swallowed, dimly wondering whether the tension in his body was apprehension or anticipation.

"Yes, Master." His voice was oddly reedy. Before Obi-Wan could force the matter, he moved to a LAAT/i. Ahsoka followed him just a step too close.

A good fight would clear his mind. It had to. Otherwise, Anakin was in more trouble than he had ever imagined possible.

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

The rhythm of the fight was familiar, soothing in how unsettling the loss of life around him was. Dust hung in the air, so heavy Anakin choked on it as he advanced with his men. His vision was limited, but he could trust the Force. Moreover, the green glow of Ahsoka's lightsabers told him she was close.

Reassured, he focused on the advancing droids. Anakin and Ahsoka were stuck on bait duty while Obi-Wan and several companies of the 501st he had commandeered would drive the seppies to them.

So far, the plan was holding up -- a novelty in its own right.

Anakin was also convinced Obi-Wan was not supposed to be here helping them with an offensive. In fact, he didn't know whether Obi-Wan had updated the Council on his relocation to the Resolute at all. Considering how often Obi-Wan lectured him for 'not following orders', this seemed exceedingly hypocritical.

Anakin's attention slipped from the battle, his body on autopilot as he defended against a new wave of droids. The line of clones appearing on top of a sandy dune with Obi-Wan in the lead distracted him further.

His silly musings were disrupted abruptly when his gaze wandered to an adjacent dune, noticing the tactical droid perched on the ridge, overlooking the action. A temporary center of command, Anakin realized. Taking the tactical droid out would win them the battle.

"Stay in position, Ahsoka," he ordered.

"You can't be serious, Master," Ahsoka protested, "We can't hold the line here without--"

Anakin didn't wait for Ahsoka to finish talking.

"You'll be fine, Snips," he interjected. "Obi-Wan's near."

"Master," Ahsoka called out, and her exasperation reminded him briefly of Obi-Wan. Then, Anakin started running, the sand slowing him down as he scaled the dunes to reach the tactical droid. Behind him, the fighting continued unhindered, proving that Anakin was right.

Finally, he felt confident; the clear goal in his mind helped him focus. His lips twisted into a grin as he used the Force to leap high, landing behind the tactical droid. Startled by his presence, the battle droids scurrying around the equipment and communication station turned to him.

"A Jedi," several called out.

"Shoot him," another ordered, which prompted a rain of bullets Anakin deflected with ease. His heart pounded, adrenaline turned his vision sharp, and his labored breathing was loud in his ears. This was how the galaxy was supposed to be. Assured in his victory, he rolled his shoulders.

"Your hospitality leaves much to be desired," he taunted the tactical droid as he prepared to slice off its head. However, he was stopped when droidekas popped from the sand, rolling before unfolding.

Anakin hadn't sensed them under the sand, his body still out of tune. Surprised, he spun on his heels, his lightsaber raised defensively as he realized he was surrounded by droidekas.

He had fallen for a trap.

Nervously, he exhaled, his durasteel hand tightening around the hilt of his lit lightsaber.

"Meet your end, Jedi scum!" one of the few remaining battle droids cheered from the side. More survivors chimed in, but Anakin ignored them.

Although this was a trap, and the odds weren't in Anakin's favor, this wasn't the first time he would have to pull off the impossible. So, he sank into a defensive stance while the tactical droid issued the command to shoot.

Blaster bolts singed the air and Anakin's clothes as he spun to deflect bolts. Usually, he would vault over a droideka to use their shield to his advantage. However, the barrage of fire was too dense. Likely, the tactical droid had anticipated Anakin's next move, which indicated the tactical droids grew smarter.

Bad news.

Furthermore, Anakin didn't know how long he could keep up.

Terrible news.

As Anakin considered his meager options, a blue lightsaber stabbed through a droideka. The droid collapsed in the sand as it toppled over, revealing Obi-Wan. Its neighbors suffered the same fate. Anakin's relief at this rescue mission was short-lived. As the fourth droideka was reduced to scrap, Anakin caught a whiff of Obi-Wan's pheromones. Although they were tightly controlled, the scent was so sharp Anakin almost sneezed.

Obi-Wan was livid.

Together, they cleared out the droidekas, and Anakin beheaded the tactical droid. Yet, he didn't feel victorious as Obi-Wan dealt with the last droideka. Obi-Wan clipped his lightsaber to his utility belt and straightened his back before he turned to Anakin.

Of course, Anakin knew he had ignored Obi-Wan's direct orders, abandoned his men, and put himself at risk. However, he had needed that fight to feel confident again. Besides, with the control center wiped out, the droids floundered on the battlefield, their formations falling apart.

"I..." Anakin's voice trailed off when Obi-Wan approached him, his eyes narrowed and agitation visible in his posture and present in his scent.

"You?" he echoed, his pleasant tone faked.

Anakin swallowed dryly, the decreasing distance between them doing odd things to his stomach. Obi-Wan's eyes demanded an apology and surrender rather than justifications. And Anakin was sorely tempted to comply, his scent growing mellow and his heart rate slowing.

"Well, let me hear it, Ah-nakin," Obi-Wan goaded him.

A shiver ran down Anakin's spine, the way Obi-Wan said his name tempting him to bare his throat. Had Obi-Wan always used his name this frequently? However, the need to please -- please? What in the Sith Hells? -- Obi-Wan was weaker than his petulance. Sullenly, he looked at Obi-Wan.

"I went to take out the tactical droid. It was the right course of action," Anakin grumbled.

"Was it now?" Obi-Wan asked mildly.

"It was," Anakin insisted despite knowing Obi-Wan would verbally eviscerate him. "Look, the battle is already over. I did well."

"You did well?" Obi-Wan echoed incredulously. Anakin wrung his hands, swallowing thickly. Horrified, he realized he might cry. Slowly, he exhaled, the breath shuddering in his throat. "You abandoned your men and your Padawan."

A dry sob tore from Anakin's throat. But he refused to cry, so he could only lean into the disappointment coursing through him. "I tried," he argued loudly.

"You tried to listen, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked. "You either listen or you don't. Or is it that you listen and choose to ignore my orders, Anakin? Because I believe that is the issue here. You certainly don't give me any reason to think otherwise."

"Can't you trust that I knew what I was doing?" Anakin asked through gritted teeth. Panic bubbled in his stomach, foreign and distracting.

"All I know is that I cannot trust you to heed me," Obi-Wan retorted. "If I can't trust you to follow our plans, I cannot rely on you, Anakin."

Obi-Wan's rebuke echoed in his mind, and Anakin reared back in shock. His disappointment and regret swallowed him alive, but this wasn't his fault. Fear turned to anger like a switch was flipped in his mind. Ruled by his emotions, he launched himself at Obi-Wan in an angry impulse. He hadn't planned ahead; he only wanted to maim like Obi-Wan had hurt him.

His loss of self-control wasn't alpha aggression, he recognized dimly.

Obi-Wan didn't budge, unimpressed by Anakin lunging for him with his hands balled into fists. Instead, he grabbed Anakin's wrists and held them in a durasteel hold above their heads. Disoriented, Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, accidentally meeting slate-gray eyes. Obi-Wan was steadfast and calm, undeterred by Anakin's snarling, but any alpha should be provoked if challenged by a...

By what?

An odd noise escaped past Anakin's snarl, oddly submissive. And Obi-Wan's eyes turned calculating, his lips twisting into a smug smirk that made Anakin's blood boil. Using his weight, Anakin leaned in Obi-Wan's grip to force him back. Instead of offering resistance like an alpha should, Obi-Wan released his hands and twisted away. Unprepared for the lack of resistance, Anakin stumbled forward, tripping over Obi-Wan's feet.

He knew Obi-Wan saw the betrayal on his face as he staggered forward. Then, a hand clamped around the back of his neck. 

His mouth opened and closed around ragged breaths as he felt Obi-Wan's palm against his skin, the fingers digging threateningly. Despite knowing he had to fight back, he couldn't move against the warm and calloused hand scruffing him, teasing submission from him. A submission Anakin couldn't possibly give but showed anyway.

Obi-Wan scruffing him again shouldn't feel so good. Nor should Anakin be consumed by memories of Obi-Wan's teeth pinning him to the floor, exerting minimal pressure to avoid breaking skin. Obi-Wan's grip had been similarly unyielding, making Anakin's surrender absolute and unconditional. He recalled how each breath had fanned against the floor, Obi-Wan's weight and fangs pinning him in place. Dryly, he sobbed, all the strength leaving his body until he slumped forward, his eyes slipping shut. Instead of collapsing in the sand, Obi-Wan caught him, letting Anakin drape against his side.

Although Anakin growled weakly, Obi-Wan didn't pay him any attention.

"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan said. "I know this isn't ideal, dear."

Anakin couldn't argue; he could only lean heavily against Obi-Wan, letting his head rest in the uncompromising hold on his neck, which told him to yield. Anakin watched Obi-Wan's side profile through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I can only let you go if you promise you will not snap, Anakin," the alpha warned him, and in a surprising show of submission, Anakin complied without protest. His head lolled to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose in surprise and satisfaction, making Anakin's toes curl in his boots.

This was silly. Anakin shouldn't want to please an alpha who had just challenged him openly. Yet, he sagged against Obi-Wan's side, leaning all his weight on a broad shoulder. He felt pleasantly helpless -- an oxymoron.

Anakin's entire existence was an incongruity, an ever-escalating mess that he couldn't stop. Thickly, Anakin swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Obi-Wan looked aghast, stunned, and fascinated.

"Time to let you go, then," Obi-Wan decided, his voice gravelly with an edge of alpha that sent shivers down Anakin's spine. "Post-haste," he added darkly.

Obi-Wan released his hold on Anakin's neck and stepped back hurriedly. Unable to carry his weight, Anakin sank to his knees, the sand hot through his pants.

Stars. He had attacked Obi-Wan.

Nervously, he dropped his gaze in another show of submission that didn't fit Anakin. However, Obi-Wan didn't comment on it. Anakin supposed he had rejected Obi-Wan's offer to talk too often, and Obi-Wan had given up.

Persistence would border dangerously on attachment, after all. Instead of familiar anger over Obi-Wan's strict adherence to the Code or the unfairness of it all, he burnt with the need for reassurance and comfort.

How strange that the person who made him anxious was also the only place he could feel safe. Anakin's pheromones slanted to delicate, far too mild for an alpha, and Anakin saw Obi-Wan jolt. Immediately, Obi-Wan's surprise was hidden behind a neutral mask. Anakin anticipated more questions. He feared he may cave in if Obi-Wan used the right pitch and infused his concerned questions with enough warmth.

To Anakin's intense relief and disappointment, Obi-Wan didn't react. Instead, Obi-Wan turned to the valley where the battle had wrapped up. Before Obi-Wan could resume issuing commands, a large explosion echoed against the dunes. Smoke billowed behind their lines, partly concealing the durasteel debris flung through the dunes.

Anakin scrambled to his feet, ignoring his trembling and weak knees as he joined Obi-Wan on the ridge.

 
"What happened?" he asked, his voice oddly pitched. The familiar alpha tenor had disappeared, leaving a whiny albeit oddly melodious cadence behind.

"The gunships were targeted," Obi-Wan said grimly. "We're lucky we haven't started boarding yet."

Anakin nodded dumbly. On the horizon a sand storm brewed, casting the sky in shades of pale gray and drab brown. Of course, when disaster struck it was never alone.

"Now, what, Master?"

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

"Anakin, no," Obi-Wan said. However, he had the air of someone already resigned to his fate.

"Anakin, yes," Anakin said, grinning at his handiwork.

"You'll finish what the Separatists started," Obi-Wan bemoaned.

"Oh, come on. It's perfectly safe, Master."

Anakin had constructed a functional spaceship from the debris in the middle of a starting sand storm, which disrupted communication with the Resolute in orbit around the planet. Admittedly, the ship looked rickety, but she would make the trip to the Resolute.

"I'll be the judge of that," Obi-Wan grumbled, but he did board the shuttle. Anakin followed him. At the top of the ramp, he turned to Ahsoka and the men.

"Go," Ahsoka said, gesturing for Anakin to enter the spaceship. Covered in grime, dust, sand, and soot, Ahsoka looked confident. He smiled at her, intensely relieved a good fight had sorted Ahsoka out. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about his predicament. "We'll be fine... If you don't forget to send new gunships to the surface, Skyguy."

With a nod, Anakin ducked inside the makeshift spaceship.

"What shall we call her, Master?" he asked cheekily. Obi-Wan sighed as Anakin dropped in the pilot's seat.

"Just try not to kill us with this death trap."

"Maybe I'll call her the Guardian Angel."

Obi-Wan's involuntary snort was the victory Anakin had looked for. Smiling, he initiated the starting sequence. Despite Obi-Wan's reservations, they reached the Resolute without a hitch. Softly, the ship landed in the hangar with all passengers intact.

"Well?" he demanded approval smugly. "We all lived."

"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan said. "Very well done, Anakin."

Anakin's stomach dropped, his fingers flexing unconsciously on the steering yoke. Obi-Wan's praise was always a treat to listen to -- it was usually given with great reluctance and the knowledge that Anakin would gloat. Instead of grinning, he swallowed thickly, his mouth dry despite the pooling saliva. His canines ached -- usually, an indication his alpha fangs had dropped, but running his tongue over his teeth confirmed the canines hadn't budged.

Worse was the heat gathering low in his belly, his deflated knot throbbing in tune with his heartbeat, which pounded in the hollow of his throat. Obi-Wan's praise had never felt so good he would derive physical pleasure from it, and all these changes disoriented him. However, this lightheadedness could be partly attributed to the blood rushing South and his cheeks, which felt alarmingly hot.

Obi-Wan didn't notice Anakin's visceral reaction. "Why you consider getting us here without crashing and burning such an achievement is beyond me, though. Gloating does not become a Jedi, Anakin."

"I'm only stating facts, Master," Anakin said, enjoying Obi-Wan's attention. His voice was a little shaky, and the words sticky in his mouth, but again, Obi-Wan didn't acknowledge the strange, whiny tone in Anakin's voice. Perhaps, he assumed Anakin had retreated petulantly, dissatisfied with the added admonishment.

"Behave, Anakin. I wouldn't want to have to drag you to the bridge by the scruff of your neck."

Anakin, who had been in the process of lifting to his feet, collapsed in the pilot's seat. His breathing was shallow and ragged as he stared helplessly and wide-eyed at the steering yoke. Without his permission, his head went too heavy to support, and his thighs parted. Nothing could stop his head from lolling on his shoulder, the baring of his throat in complete surrender delightful rather than humiliating. The desire pooled low in his guts made him want to buck his hips like any alpha mounting an omega would, but he had gone boneless, utterly relaxed as if he were the omega being fucked into.

His breath shuddered at the mental image this thought conjured.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly.

The way Obi-Wan pronounced his name shouldn't affect him. Undeniably, it affected Anakin worse than the threat of getting scruffed again. Obi-Wan wrapped each syllable in his Coruscanti accent, his mild tone hiding a warning like velvet over durasteel.

"I'm fine," Anakin deflected Obi-Wan's concern, his voice so breathless both knew this was a lie.

But Obi-Wan relented, as he always did.

"If you say so," he responded because Obi-Wan had done his duty as former Master and confirmed Anakin was at least coherent enough to talk. This shouldn't sting as it worked in Anakin's favor, but he wanted Obi-Wan to care.

No. No. This was Obi-Wan's brand of care, but Anakin needed more. More used to be recognition and a sense of equality. As he sat slumped in the pilot's seat, forcing his body out of its relaxed state, he knew his upset hormones made him hunger for something else. Because he craved a hand around the back of his neck or a good scenting.

No proper alpha would allow another alpha to rub their pheromones on them. It was not done. But Anakin had caught a whiff of Obi-Wan's scent as Obi-Wan leaned into his personal space, which was oh-so-reassuring.

With one last concerned glance, Obi-Wan flicked off a lever Anakin had forgotten.

"We should get started on arranging the logistics of getting everyone back aboard," Obi-Wan decided.

"Yes," he muttered hoarsely, stumbling after Obi-Wan.

He felt wired and too big for his skin. As he stepped from the ramp, Obi-Wan waited for him. The hand landing on his shoulder wasn't new. However, he had never realized how close his shoulder was to his neck. Now, Obi-Wan's pinky rested against the base of his neck.

"How about a spar later?" Obi-Wan suggested, probably believing Anakin was suffering from too much pent-up energy or alpha aggression. Refusing would only arouse more suspicion, so Anakin nodded. Later, he could figure out how he was supposed to spar with Obi-Wan when he was both intimidated and comforted by Obi-Wan's proximity.

"Good. Wouldn't want you to go feral," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin would have protested that he wasn't in danger of going feral ever again. And he would have. If only he could stop focusing on Obi-Wan. Alas, he was hyper-aware of Obi-Wan's solid warmth behind him while they walked to the bridge. Obi-Wan's pinky had retreated as his hand had slipped from Anakin's shoulder, but his neck burnt.

The realization he wanted this sat heavily in his stomach. Want seemed such an inadequate description for his yearning. He starved, but he could only watch from a safe distance.

Until they would spar, of course. Then, Obi-Wan would place himself squarely in Anakin's personal space, and Anakin dreaded how he would react to the proximity and adrenaline of a good spar. 

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

His breath puffed in hot bursts against the tiled sonic wall, frustration prompting a low growl that vibrated in his chest. Nothing worked.

He couldn't pop a knot. Weakly, he sagged against the wall, his hand accidentally running through the watery and clear semen. Grimacing, he staggered away, leaning against the opposite wall instead.

This was supposed to help him calm down before he sparred with Obi-Wan since the memories of how he had lunged at Obi-Wan were still fresh in his mind. That couldn't happen again. Although Obi-Wan hadn't been angry -- he had offered to spar to help Anakin relax instead of lecturing him -- Anakin knew such good fortune couldn't last.

Because Obi-Wan was applying new tactics to discover what was wrong with Anakin. Eventually, he would figure out the truth, no matter how outlandish and outrageous Anakin's predicament was. Defeated, he switched on the sonic, his stomach still churning after his ruined orgasm while need thrummed under his skin, an itch that was near impossible to ignore.

He gritted his teeth.

Predictably, his mood hadn't improved as he headed to a training hall. He still felt meek, the unease simmering under Anakin's skin aggravated by the crowded hallways. Although the action was over with everyone back aboard the Resolute, Obi-Wan hadn't shown signs of returning to the Negotiator.

Maybe he would after they sparred.

Anakin refused to investigate the panic lancing through him at the prospect of being alone. After all, he wouldn't be alone. His men and Ahsoka were there. But it was Obi-Wan's presence he needed.

Obi-Wan waited for him in the hall. Rather than sitting in the center of the hall, meditating, he stalked through the room, pacing like a caged animal. Confused, Anakin lingered on the threshold, following Obi-Wan with his gaze. As soon as Obi-Wan noticed his presence, he slowed and smiled.

"There you are."

"Ready to get trounced?" Anakin challenged, eager to release the jittery energy that made him uneasy.

"Are you?"

A shudder ran down Anakin's spine, the muscles in his abdomen jumping as Obi-Wan returned the challenge, his tone more threatening than Anakin's brashness. This was a promise, and Anakin nodded before he could stop himself.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows quirked. Nervously, Anakin cleared his throat. Before he could incriminate himself further, he reached for his lightsaber, rushing Obi-Wan as soon as the hilt rested in his palm. Obi-Wan was ready for him, letting Anakin's blade crash against his. Both blades sparked, blinding Anakin briefly.

"This is hardly proper dueling," Obi-Wan protested. "I suggested sparring, Anakin, not a free-for-all brawl."

"Scared you will lose?" Anakin taunted because he couldn't show any vulnerability here.

"Ah-nakin."

Anakin mewled. He actually mewled, and there was no hiding the high-pitched whimper. Obi-Wan had uttered his name like a caress, like a hand clamped around the back of his neck, like a warning and a promise.

"Why don't you tell me what you are hiding?" Obi-Wan asked. Their lightsabers remained connected as they circled each other.

"There's nothing."

"Anakin, I'm trying to help you."

"Maybe I don't need your help, Master. Perhaps I have everything under control. Now, fight me."

"Anakin, this will not end well for you," Obi-Wan warned him, using Anakin's karked name for the millionth time.

He hated it; he loved it. The urge to tip his throat back overwhelmed him, a confession burning on his lips accompanied by a plea.

"Test me," Anakin challenged through gritted teeth.

"Don't do that," Obi-Wan warned him, his eyes narrowed though his expression remained mild.

"Or else?"

"I scruffed you twice already. Do not presume I won't do so a third time if you keep acting out." 

And Anakin finally leaned into the impulse that told him oh-so-insistently to tip his head back to give Obi-Wan unfettered access to his throat.

"Ah-nakin," Obi-Wan hissed, audibly shocked at the submission Anakin had offered. "I meant... never mind."

"But Master," Anakin panted, his voice embarrassingly breathless.

Obi-Wan reached for his shoulder to steady him when Anakin stumbled. While Obi-Wan's palm rested on Anakin's shoulder, his pinky rested securely against the back of Anakin's neck, applying faint pressure. A soft sigh escaped Anakin, telling Anakin his lips had gone slack and parted. His lightsaber clattered to the floor, momentarily forgotten. Anakin didn't know whether Obi-Wan had expected resistance or compliance. Either way, Obi-Wan wasn't prepared for Anakin's knees to buckle.

As his knees gave out, an unwelcome epiphany assaulted Anakin.

He liked this; he had missed a touch against the back of his neck with such an intensity it had haunted him. And having Obi-Wan's hand return, even if it was just a pink, calmed him down. Any residual alpha aggression seeped out of him, the restlessness and agitation gone as he panted wetly against Obi-Wan's shoulder.

Obi-Wan's other hand had come up around his waist to keep him pinned against Obi-Wan's side. Although it stopped Anakin's graceless descent to the floor, it also meant that every part of Anakin was flush against Obi-Wan.

"Anakin. Darling," he said in an urgent voice. "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan's hand against his neck was wrong. Obi-Wan calling him darling was worse. Because Anakin's mind, already awfully blank, just stopped working altogether. He could only tip his head back from where it rested on Obi-Wan's shoulder to stare at his Master dumbly.

He had to answer before Obi-Wan grew suspicious, but he feared he would whimper and whine, all needy and oh-so-willing, if he opened his mouth.

"I'm fine," he gasped.

Obi-Wan's deadpan expression told him the lie hadn't convinced anyone. Nonetheless, he relented. Carefully, he released his grip on Anakin, who swayed before he regained his balance. Then, Obi-Wan twirled his lightsaber before he sank into the opening stance of soresu.

"We'll see," he said, the only indication he hadn't dropped the issue altogether. Gritting his teeth, Anakin squatted, only recalling he could have used the Force to call his lightsaber to his hand when his knees hit the floor hard.

Slowly, he struggled upright again, the tip of his lightsaber shaking damningly when the blade ignited. His knees trembled, his instincts were going haywire, and arousal left him breathless. This wouldn't be a fair fight, and Obi-Wan knew.

Nevertheless, Anakin resolved to put up a good fight. He lost his lightsaber less than a minute into the duel and was pinned to the floor a few seconds later. His stomach rested against the floor, pinned by a knee digging harshly into the small of his back. Obi-Wan's lightsaber was a hot brand hovering near his neck.

Anakin's defeat was undeniable. All that was left to do was yield. And Anakin's body begged to yield and surrender to the alpha. Moving with a lit lightsaber centimeters away from his neck was madness, so Obi-Wan's knee lifted slightly to put less pressure on Anakin's back. Since Anakin's defeat was absolute, Obi-Wan must believe Anakin had yielded already. Furthermore, Anakin had gone lax in an automatic reaction to Obi-Wan leaning over him.

However, he hadn't said anything yet.

Only a fool would move. Leaning into a lit lightsaber was terribly stupid. Anakin bucked his hips anyway. Gracefully, he raised his hips from the floor and rolled them to dislodge Obi-Wan. Using war-honed reflexes, Obi-Wan dropped his lightsaber to avoid beheading Anakin, and the hilt dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

While Obi-Wan tried not to accidentally kill Anakin, Anakin rolled them around until he lay plastered over Obi-Wan's front. Then, he paused, looking down at Obi-Wan. He hadn't expected to get this far. Now, he found himself floundering, his stomach collapsing into a black hole when Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes.

Their lightsaber duel turned into a brawl, both wrestling to get a grip on the other. Their grappling ended with Anakin pinned to the floor on his side. Obi-Wan rested on top of him, his full weight keeping Anakin immobile.

Obi-Wan's rapid breathing was hot against his throat, and Anakin let his head fall to the mats, exposing his mating gland, his throat straining under the stretch. Anakin refused to acknowledge the part of him that wanted Obi-Wan's teeth on his neck ever since Obi-Wan had first teased surrender from his body.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "I could have killed you, Anakin. Yield."

Anakin bared his teeth, not to challenge but to play, moved by unfamiliar instincts. He didn't know what he wanted from this exchange, but he hoped.

"Now," Obi-Wan snarled. "Yield. Do not make me repeat myself, Anakin."

Rather than responding, Anakin used the limited movement of his head to snap his teeth at Obi-Wan's throat lazily. Filled with giddiness, he waited for a reaction, and Obi-Wan didn't disappoint.

"Don't claim I didn't warn you," Obi-Wan told him, his voice pitched low and oh-so-alpha. It should make Anakin bristle. Instead, the dark promise chased shivers down his spine to his toes and fingertips, which flexed.

He nodded.

With a long-suffering sigh, Obi-Wan reached for his hair, letting his fingers tangle in Anakin's curls before he wrenched Anakin's head from the ground and closer. Close enough that Obi-Wan's nose brushed over his unmarred mating glad, untouched until this very moment. So very close that Anakin's nose was pressed against the crook of Obi-Wan's throat.

Anakin froze, lying limply on the floor, Obi-Wan's grip on his hair the only thing stopping his head from crashing into the floor. Obi-Wan nuzzled him, and Anakin knew Obi-Wan would inhale lungfuls of his alpha scent, still softened. Anakin's scent would reveal he wouldn't resist or struggle.

Even Anakin was surprised he didn't feel any urge to retaliate. On the contrary, his breathing had slowed while his body had gone limp and pliant. His face rested in the crook of Obi-Wan's neck, turned such that Obi-Wan had free access to Anakin's mating glad. This also meant that Anakin was oh-so-close to Obi-Wan's mating gland. Obi-Wan's alpha pheromones should sting his nose, and the lack of reflexive irritation should alarm Anakin.

Obi-Wan drew a long line over Anakin's mating gland with the tip of his nose.

"Last chance," he whispered, but Anakin was speechless, each breath caught high in his throat. 

Last chance for what?

His fingers flexed on the floor. Although his hips wanted to buck, Obi-Wan's solid weight made moving impossible. Once his subconscious had realized Obi-Wan didn't permit him any rutting, he relaxed fully, each muscle going lax, reminding him of waking up in a warm bed. Rather than a comfortable blanker, Obi-Wan's covered him, his body war-honed and strong. Inescapable.

When had Obi-Wan's body become an object to appreciate and admire with the satisfaction of knowing he was the one who knew it best in the galaxy after years of training?

Oh, Anakin knew.

One forced submission had somehow rewired his brain and convinced it Obi-Wan was his mate. His exhale shuddered in his throat and fanned hot and humid against Obi-Wan's skin. The following inhale tasted of Obi-Wan and alpha musk, of the Temple, ozone, and shampoo.

Before he could stop his body, he already suckled on Obi-Wan's mating gland, applying no pressure. His fangs hadn't elongated, he realized dimly, which was fortunate because Anakin's impulse control was apparently shot.

Obi-Wan would likely claim he had never possessed any, to begin with.

With a last bump of his nose to Anakin's mating gland, possibly in a silent admonishment, Obi-Wan placed sharp fangs against the gland. With his hands resting on Obi-Wan's chest, Anakin could feel every muscle in Obi-Wan's body was poised and tense.

Letting another being so close to one's mating gland was dangerous. Especially an alpha whose fangs could nick the thin skin and seal a bond. Obi-Wan would never let that happen, though. After all, unlike Anakin, Obi-Wan's self-control was impeccable.

The perfect Jedi.

Teeth were replaced by a tongue dragging over his mating gland. Never in his life had Anakin experienced this. Even the grip around the back of his neck paled to the vulnerability of letting another touch his mating gland. And Obi-Wan didn't stop at touching, laving his tongue over the sensitive gland, the bundle of nerves misfiring until Anakin's vision went hazy. Likely, his eyes had rolled back as his head had fallen back further, leaning fully into Obi-Wan's grip because the ceiling refused to come into focus. A dry sob made Anakin heave, but his back couldn't arch, and his hips couldn't snap in instinctive motions. Arousal sat hot in his guts, a relentless pressure, a rapid pulse, and an unignorable need.

Maybe he produced little noises. He knew he was the one who made these weird, high-pitched, pleading little whimpers. This had only served as a demonstration, but Obi-Wan didn't stop, and Anakin couldn't pull away.

He had already yielded, the lack of verbal confirmation notwithstanding.

He didn't want this to stop. Furthermore, Obi-Wan had clamped a hand around the back of his neck, scruffing him to keep him from squirming. Obi-Wan's teeth had returned to his mating gland and neck, and Anakin couldn't move into the soft grip. He couldn't rut against Obi-Wan's thigh because Anakin would die if he couldn't find friction for... Oh, he was hard. 

He sighed against Obi-Wan's throat, no longer suckling but panting wetly instead. Although he was so hard it ached, and he strained against his underwear and pants, his knot wouldn't fill. Like Anakin's retracted fangs, they didn't react to his pleasure. While Obi-Wan's scent slanted spicier, the alpha musk growing fractionally more intense, Anakin smelt too sweet. He smelt off, but Obi-Wan only groaned, and Anakin's hips twitched despite the scruffing and weight pinning him in place.

"Master," he panted, the word muffled by Obi-Wan's throat. Obi-Wan applied more pressure to warn him. A muted mental voice told Anakin it was odd that his constant barrage of provocations had triggered an instinctual reaction from Obi-Wan. With his last shred of clarity, Anakin dismissed the notion as preposterous.

No matter how hard Anakin pushed, Obi-Wan would never lose his cool.

The extra pressure made him twitch in his pants, the lack of knot both pleasurable and frustrating. His cock throbbed, blood pooled low in his groin, beating in a second pulse that should fill his knot. Anakin mewled, desperately moving in Obi-Wan's grip, panting as he was on the edge of coming in his pants. He needed friction, but Obi-Wan didn't give him any.

 Obi-Wan couldn't have accounted for Anakin's wiggling. Sharp canines buried deeply into Anakin's mating gland. Alpha saliva mixed with the blood sluggishly welling from the pinpricks. A high-pitched, reedy noise was forced past Anakin's lips, wet with the drool gathering in his mouth. With Obi-Wan's alpha fangs buried deep in his throat, he couldn't swallow. Neither could he remember how to as his mind flooded with hormones and pleasure so heady it wiped his mind blank. He gasped and trembled in Obi-Wan's grip, fruitlessly squirming as he came in his pants. There was too little come for an alpha, which Anakin appreciated for the first time since he had changed. Still, his pants were soiled, the watery come slowly soaking into the fabric in a growing wet patch.

Obi-Wan rutted against his hip, and an echo of pleasure coursed through Anakin. Even wrung dry, Anakin ached with want and pleasure. Obi-Wan's alpha pheromones messed with him, and he needed a deeper bite.

As an alpha, he should want to bite and claim. Anakin only wanted Obi-Wan to leave a claim that could never be contested. He was Obi-Wan's. But Obi-Wan was his, so only Anakin should give Obi-Wan so much pleasure and carry Obi-Wan's mark.

Obi-Wan was his, but Obi-Wan possessed him turn, and Anakin's submission was natural. He sighed weakly, relishing the teeth in his flesh, which dug even further when Obi-Wan came in long spurts. Through his orgasm, Obi-Wan kept rutting against Anakin's hip. Unbidden, Anakin imagined Obi-Wan knotting him, grinding deep inside Anakin's ass, unable to pull back when oversensitivity would have Anakin sob. Obi-Wan's come soaked right through his clothes into Anakin's pants, hot and wet.

Fuck, Anakin thought. Then, he realized he didn't -- this thought didn't belong to him. His jaw dropped.

Obi-Wan cursed?

Of course, I do, the thought responded. Stars, Anakin.

I love how Obi-Wan says my name.

Then, Anakin realized he heard Obi-Wan's thoughts. Incidentally, this implied Obi-Wan could do the same. All his blood traveled from his softening cock to his cheeks.

Sith-fucking-Hells. They had bonded.

Language, Anakin thought. Except Obi-Wan said this. For Obi-Wan was privy to all of Anakin's thoughts because they had bonded accidentally.

They had bonded. Anakin had never expected to have a mate, and his gut reaction was embarrassing elation. He had accepted that he would never have a mate, that his life would never be like one of those romantic Holo movies, something he had made peace with. But now, he had bonded... with Obi-Wan.

Somehow, he doubted Obi-Wan would be as excited as he was.

Nervously, he shifted, his fingers flexing on the mats. Anakin wished they curled against Obi-Wan's chest instead. The need to bite down further, to keep his mate still and content, crashed into Anakin. Anakin identified it as Obi-Wan's thoughts. Because he also recognized that the one pouring their need to be scruffed more tightly was Anakin.

With time, they could learn to establish proper boundaries and to disentangle their thoughts.

A terrifying notion occurred to Anakin.

What if he thought about his little problem and Obi-Wan overheard?

I knew it.

Confused, Anakin tried to figure out what he knew. Belatedly, he realized this thought originated from Obi-Wan, who had eavesdropped.

I can hardly help it, Anakin.

Well, I'm not snooping on your thoughts, Master.

Maybe you should stop projecting your thoughts.

Obi-Wan sighed, his breath cold against Anakin's mating gland, and Anakin keened.

Master. Mate.

Obi-Wan's hand slipped from the back of his neck to his cheekbone, stroking him before dislodging his fangs from Anakin's throat. Wetness trickled sluggishly down Anakin's throat. Was it blood or saliva?

"Blood," Obi-Wan responded lowly, his voice gravelly with want, guilt, and a deep satisfaction that was pure alpha instinct. After some nudging on this new connection, Anakin could tell that Obi-Wan had popped a knot -- unlike Anakin.

Privacy, Obi-Wan warned him.

Well, you read my thoughts, too.

Because you yelled them, Anakin. I didn't go rooting around in your mind despite...

Despite what? Anakin demanded, focusing on the bond as he tried to control this new connection. Obi-Wan's hand returned to tangle in Anakin's hair, forcing eye contact. Nerves sat heavily in Anakin's stomach, his eyes tracing Obi-Wan's face before settling on slate gray eyes.

 Meeting Obi-Wan's gaze was impossible, and Anakin lasted only a few seconds before his gaze settled on Obi-Wan's lips, slick with saliva and reddish with blood. A shudder ran down his spine. Obi-Wan's fangs had been buried in his throat, leaving a permanent mark on his scent gland.

Distracted, he stopped prodding the connection, staring at Obi-Wan's lips enchantingly. After mating someone, Obi-Wan's fangs wouldn't retract for a while. Curiosity burnt.

Of course, Obi-Wan knew.

More surprising was that Obi-Wan acquiesced without a word of protest, opening his mouth to reveal fangs smeared in red.

Enchanted, Anakin lifted a hand from the floor, reaching for Obi-Wan's fangs, but Obi-Wan closed his mouth before Anakin could touch the elongated canines.

He didn't think he had seen Obi-Wan's fangs before. Or if he had, he hadn't paused to consider them.

"Try to focus," Obi-Wan said as he rolled from Anakin's body on the training mat. Disappointed, Anakin watched Obi-Wan sit cross-legged. Likely, Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to follow his example, but Anakin's body couldn't move, still adjusting to the mating bite and completely relaxed. "We have a problem, Anakin."

Anakin nodded weakly, feeling an odd combination of overheated and cold. They were newly mated, and he craved the skin contact of his mate. He needed comfort and warmth and reassurance, but Obi-Wan had shuffled away.

Although he wanted to listen to Obi-Wan, his gaze went unfocused as he struggled to resist the temptation to use this new connection between their minds to curl up against Obi-Wan's side in spirit. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't allow Anakin to crawl over to collapse in Obi-Wan's lap, so this was the best alternative.

He knew Obi-Wan would disagree.

He shivered, cold and weary. All his shields had cracked, which exposed him to the many tiny Force signatures on the Resolute. So many consciousnesses pressed against his mind, and he felt cornered, threatened, and flayed open. All his insecurities would spill from his mind like stuffing from a stuffed animal. He felt so damningly vulnerable, like even breathing bruised his soul, each breath overly loud to his ears, another reason he may be scorned.

I can sense your discomfort, Anakin.

Anakin let his eyes slip shut, the mere presence of Obi-Wan in his mind helping him.

I don't feel well, Master.

His thoughts had taken on a whiny quality as he begged silently for what he shouldn't ask for out loud. As Obi-Wan's expression pinched in concern, he could also feel the worry through the bond. Worry was followed by indecisiveness, and Anakin was privy to the flurry of thought that went through Obi-Wan's mind as he weighed their options.

Awed, he waited, intrigued by how systematic and methodological Obi-Wan's brain worked. One eyebrow raised sardonically told Anakin Obi-Wan was well aware that Anakin had focused on the bond connecting them.

Obi-Wan returned the attention, and Anakin finally realized how Obi-Wan had known when Anakin snooped. Obi-Wan's attention felt like bathing in sunlight when the rays would warm the marrow of his bones. Relieved, he sighed, relishing the phantom proximity.

The need to be close to his mate lessened, satisfied by this contact. It wasn't enough, but the sense of vulnerability grew bearable. Then, Obi-Wan reached for his hand, letting their fingers tangle. Instantly, Anakin no longer felt so off-balance. Anakin didn't move, sagged against the floor, clinging to Obi-Wan's fingers like a youngling. Through the bond, he could tell that Obi-Wan wished to withdraw his hand but maintained the skin contact to soothe Anakin. While Anakin appreciated this mercy, he wanted Obi-Wan to want.

Obi-Wan sighed deeply, an awkward quiet invading the training hall. Unfortunately, it wasn't silent, for even as neither spoke, they still thought.

Those thoughts were now communicated.

So, Anakin knew Obi-Wan stewed in guilt and faint horror as if the idea of being mated to Anakin was horrifying. Possibly, Obi-Wan was repulsed by the bond.

Obi-Wan would likely feel Anakin's hurt, but he couldn't stop feeling these stupid emotions because it would be more convenient for Obi-Wan. Kriff the Jedi Code.

"Ah-nakin," Obi-Wan said out loud.

"Oh, do go on. Tell me how disappointed you are to be bonded to me," Anakin snapped. "How disappointed you are in me in general."

Obi-Wan would have responded, likely giving Anakin a deadpan reply, but Anakin struggled to his knees. He was exhausted and needed his mate's care, but Anakin couldn't stay here. Obi-Wan wouldn't give him anything but scraps because he pitied Anakin.

Going from his knees to his feet proved even harder, and strange, needy sounds slipped past his lips as he swayed on his feet, his shoulders hunched so he could cradle his stomach. Anakin felt sick, and only Obi-Wan could help him.

If they were real mates, Obi-Wan would have gone into a rut now. Apparently, Anakin was so appalling that the physiological reaction to placing a mating bond didn't occur in Obi-Wan.

Part of Anakin wanted to stay so he could scream, cry, and bargain with Obi-Wan. However, he knew how futile this would be. So, he staggered to the exit of the training hall instead.

"Anakin, stay please," Obi-Wan called after him. It wasn't a demand. In fact, it was barely a request, Obi-Wan's defeated tone indicating he didn't expect Anakin to listen. But Anakin was compelled to listen to his mate, so he stopped and swayed on his feet, equally surprised by his compliance.

When he turned around, Obi-Wan looked defeated. "We shouldn't part, Anakin."

Shouldn't.

"Because either of us suffering bondsickness would be oh-so-very-inconvenient for you?" Anakin demanded, his heart chipping a little more.

"No," Obi-Wan denied. "As unconventional as this situation is, I know this means more to you than I could have imagined. And I want to do this right for you."

Great. Now, Obi-Wan accused him of being a terrible Jedi, and he was right.

"You know that is not what I mean, darling."

"I don't!" Anakin hadn't intended to yell, but his frustration had boiled over. "I don't know because you... you..."

He gestured helplessly, horrified by the stinging in his eyes and the welling tears. Anakin didn't know how Obi-Wan experienced the echo of Anakin's riotous emotions through their bond. Preferably, he would never figure out because Anakin had already humiliated himself more than he had believed possible.

Clearly, Anakin was the only one who cherished this fledgling bond. Obi-Wan only tolerated it because the bond was permanent.

"You bit me!" he accused loudly.

"I know, Anakin," he said, meeting Anakin's gaze solemnly. Through their bond, Anakin could feel overwhelming guilt. "I betrayed your trust. Nothing can undo what I've done to you, but I will report myself to the Council."

Anakin's mind had gone blank. Obi-Wan's lips twisted into a grin -- but it was a mirthless thing. Slowly, he lifted to his feet to approach Anakin, and Anakin swallowed dryly, the decreasing space between them a threat.

Obi-Wan wasn't a predator and wouldn't corner him. Nevertheless, Anakin felt like prey. His heart pounded in the hollow of his throat as he was caught on the precipice between anxiety and unintentional arousal. Obi-Wan's slate gray eyes had always reminded him of a silent lake or tranquil, overcast skies on an early spring day. Now, they were stormy, dark, and turbulent.

"Master?" he asked uncertainly, the word rasping in his dry throat.

When Obi-Wan was so close the tips of their boots almost kissed, he narrowed his eyes at Anakin. Rooted to his spot, Anakin couldn't break the prolonged eye contact.

"You are nervous," Obi-Wan stated.

Anakin tripped over his feet when he stepped backward, barely regaining his balance before he crumpled to the floor.

"Don't," he said weakly.

Don't look too closely, Anakin begged silently.

Anakin understood very well Obi-Wan loathed their bond. Obi-Wan's overwhelming guilt was the final nail in the coffin. So, Obi-Wan could never ever learn Anakin had been jubilant to discover he had a mate. 

Obi-Wan had never wanted this. He would never purposefully break the Jedi Code or take a mate. Furthermore, he would never have wanted Anakin as his mate. Admittedly, Anakin had never considered bonding with Obi-Wan before. However, Obi-Wan's disappointment hurt sharply like acid or lightsaber burns. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan was his mate forever.

And Anakin wasn't disappointed.

I'm so sorry, Anakin. I keep hurting you. I'm not disappointed in you. How could I? Darling, dearest, please don't cry. It pains me so.

Sniffling, Anakin looked up, the panic settling, and his frustrated tears drying.

Obi-Wan's relief couldn't be faked, and Anakin dared hope cautiously. So, he didn't resist when Obi-Wan sat down and invited Anakin to join him. Perhaps he hadn't intended for Anakin to collapse in Obi-Wan's lap. Anakin did so anyway. Obi-Wan didn't protest.

"I'm only disappointed in myself for forcing this on you," Obi-Wan whispered as he helped Anakin settle in his lap. Anakin clung to the lapels of Obi-Wan's tunic, listening contentedly to Obi-Wan's confession and heartbeat.

"Okay," he slurred, suddenly too exhausted to keep his eyes open. "You didn't force me, though."

"We can talk later," Obi-Wan murmured, and Anakin agreed. Within seconds, he was fast asleep, soaking up Obi-Wan's body warmth and the comfort of his touch. In Obi-Wan's arms, he felt secure. Snuggling closer to Obi-Wan, testing what Obi-Wan would allow, those persistent insecurities were finally silenced. Obi-Wan allowed everything.

Anakin couldn't imagine being without a mate anymore, the bond a reassurance he relied on gratefully. Rather than retreat, Obi-Wan welcomed him, offering freely.