Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

Full Of Silver Moons Part 2

• Summary: Just telling the night from Obi-Wan's POV of things.

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Obi-Wan had considered, before allowing himself to fall asleep, the possibility that the Sith might stage an attack in the night when he and Anakin would be vulnerable. Obi-Wan took certain precautions against this, the main one being the lightsaber he stashed under his pillow. The secondary was an assumption that he had been on enough dangerous missions that were a Sith to come close enough to harm him while he was sleeping, the Force signature would wake him immediately.

He had not, he realized upon waking to a weight sitting on his hips, considered that the Force signature in question would be so similar to Anakin's that his body would accept it as natural without hesitation.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said even as he knew that it wasn't quite true.

"You're lucky you're you," Vader said from his position straddling Obi-Wan's lap. "If anyone else called me that, they'd be dead before they finished saying it."

Obi-Wan tried to sit up, tried to reach for his lightsaber, but before he could move more than an inch, Vader was pressing a vibroblade to his throat.

"A bit crude, don't you think?" Obi-Wan asked, a brow raised.

He hadn't been in a deep sleep, not with how imminent a danger Vader and Ben posed, but there wasn't enough adrenaline in his surprise wakeup for him to have as clear a head as he needed. It appeared that the knowledge that the man on top of him was a Sith held little weight in comparison to his body's insistence that this was the exact position Anakin belonged in.

How unfortunate. How inappropriate.

Still, Obi-Wan tried to take in as much of the situation as he could. Vader was dressed in the sleep clothes Ahsoka had brought them. They were tight enough for it to be evident that the knife was the only weapon he carried. They were also tight enough that Obi-Wan could see the outline of his cock where his legs were spread on either side of Obi-Wan's body.

As if he needed more hinderances to his focus.

Vader grinned. "Maybe," he allowed. "But there's just something about it that I find so intimate."

"An intimate murder." He supposed there were worse ways to die, although he cringed a little at the cleanup. So much blood.

Vader cocked his head, and the movement was so Anakin that it made Obi-Wan's chest hurt. Vader's eyes even looked blue rather than the gold they'd been before. He didn't know whether that was easier or not.

"Who said anything about murder?" Vader asked. He looked legitimately unnerved at the prospect. "You really don't know me at all if you think there's any version of me who could kill you."

It was the bare minimum someone could ask of another person, to not be murdered by them, and yet something about the implied connection between them wrenched Obi-Wan's heart.

"I'd appreciate it then," he said after clearing his throat of any unwanted emotion, "if you'd remove your weapon. And while you're doing that, please remove yourself from my bed as well." He'd known Vader was dangerous, but this particular brand of it was so much worse, specifically engineered as it was to burrow under each of his defenses, drive him insane.

Vader leaned down, the blade pressing a fraction closer to cutting Obi-Wan's throat. More concerning was the way the tilt of his hips pressed their cocks flush together through their pants. Neither of them were completely soft. "Make me," Vader said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, unamused. "You've been watching too many holoporns, young one," he said. "Now get off. I won't tolerate this foolish attempt at... whatever it is you're attempting." It was something, he was sure. Obi-Wan just couldn't fathom what.