• Summary: Obi-Wan saves Anakin on Mustafar and Anakin deals with the consequences of that action.
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Mustafar was a horrible planet. It reminded Anakin of Tatooine, in that it would forever define him. It was where the bulk of his first major fall took place, where all of those conflicting negative emotions had blinded him. Even now, it was mostly a hazy memory, almost like a dream - a nightmare - if he was being honest. The memory of it sat heavy on his chest, a stone that would forever weigh him down. Not that it was hard to feel that way when he had lost so much of himself already; anything could weigh him down now. Or maybe the weight was simply just the Force-nullifying collar that had been placed around his neck.
He felt Obi-Wan shift in his sleep beside him and sometimes he wished Obi-Wan had just killed him on that fiery planet. It would have made things easier for everyone. Instead, his old master was just prolonging his death, dragging it out cruelly, though he didn't see it that way. To Obi-Wan, it was a mercy, but this was not living.
At first, Anakin had believed that this was Obi-Wan's version of revenge but he quickly realized that Obi-Wan kept him alive because he was selfish. He had always thought him to be the perfect Jedi - what he should strive for - but he quickly realized that if had been perfect, he wouldn't have failed to strike him down fully, as he said he would.
I will do what I must.
If only he had... But he didn't because his compassion had turned to attachment, which Anakin was all too familiar with. He kept him alive but his quality of life was questionable. He had tried killing himself multiple times but each time, Obi-Wan had caught him.
It was why he was wearing a collar; it blocked his connection with the Force. He still remembered the first time it was placed on him. It was more painful than anything he had ever experienced. If Anakin wasn't sure he was half man and half Force before, he was now. He was certain that it was killing him ever so slowly.
There wasn't a day he was without pain. He deserved it though. He deserved all of this. Perhaps not Obi-Wan's lo- his care but everything else... it was what he had coming to him for what he had done. He had killed so many people, but the most damning was Padmé. Padmé and their unborn child. Just thinking of her felt wrong. He had ruined her and had killed her. He had no right to her, had no right to weeping when he was the reason she was dead.
He only had Obi-Wan left and he didn't deserve him and his kindness but he had him. For the first year and a few months, Anakin had despised Obi-Wan. His previous master took it in stride and did not let his words or his actions affect him. He had been a stubborn, wild thing back then; he had seen the world through broken, red lenses.
He had clung to his most prominent memory that first year; rage and misery was what kept him going. A chance for revenge.
Anakin had burned.
He had always burned, for he was a star, a sun, but Obi-Wan had left him on that lava bank and he could still feel the way fire had eaten away at his skin.
More than that, he still remembered the way he had been too late.
He hadn't blocked Obi-Wan's parry and his lightsaber had met his knee and then his other one and then his left arm. He had burned then too.
Instant cauterization. It's said to be a blessing and less of a mess, but Anakin knew it wasn't true. He had known it wasn't true years before too. Never in a million years had he believed that he would lose another limb, let alone the rest of them. It had happened though.
Burning flesh wasn't a pleasant smell, less pleasant was experiencing it everywhere.
The pain consumed him as he saw Obi-Wan - his comrade, his best friend, his master - get further away from him. They yelled at one another and then Anakin couldn't formulate words so he just screamed; there was nothing left to do at that point.
"Anakin?" He heard, snapping him out of his morbid thoughts.
Obi-Wan was staring at him, as he was prone to since there was nothing else to look at in their home, or so he said.
"Mornin." He replied, closing his eyes again.
It was too soon to see the dichotomy he knew Obi-Wan was capable of. It was for naught as Obi-Wan pulled him flush against his chest and his hand cradled his head. He rubbed circles on his head and it would feel nice if not for the way his touch burned. He had finally begun to grow hair again after many rounds of bacta treatments - where Obi-Wan found them, he did not know or care to know - and it was now at the same length it was when he was a padawan, cropped yet curling slightly at the ends, but there wasn't a ponytail at his neck nor a braid and he was not a padawan or a server of the Force.
He placed a kiss on his forehead and that, too, burned. Everything did these days, but Anakin would have it no other way.
He was unsure what kind of morning it was; Obi-Wan was always soft in the mornings. He could either get up soon or he would show his affection to him in other ways. The longer he played with his hair, the more certain Anakin was in thinking it was the second option. He was proved correct when Obi-Wan's lips met his.
For many years, he had imagined being in this position. He had fantasized being loved by Obi-Wan- being fucked by him. All he could think of as Obi-Wan kissed him and his hands wrapped around him was but not like this.
It wasn't so bad though. He enjoyed himself; he'd always been a bit of a masochist because Obi-Wan's touch burned him as always but it was him. He didn't deserve Obi-Wan's regard but he had it nonetheless and Anakin would savor it. What was a little pain compared to the pleasure he brought him?
And oh, did Obi-Wan bring him to new heights of pleasure.
Before, he had wanted to consume him- and now it was Anakin being consumed. He found he didn't mind. There was nothing he could deny him.
(Even if he wanted to.)
Anakin would give up every part of himself since Obi-Wan saw fit to take most of it already. He could have it all and this time Anakin would give it freely.
He moaned when Obi-Wan finally entered him. He felt like he was being split open each time his master entered him and when he began to move, he never failed in missing the spot that made him arch his back and keen loudly.
When he closed his eyes, he could pretend his ankles were locked around the low of Obi-Wan's back and that his hands were digging into his cheeks as he smashed his lips to his as Obi-Wan pistoned into him. He could pretend they weren't on a desert planet but instead on a ship or in familiar yet hazy quarters. He could pretend that it was before he ruined everything and that it had always been this way.
Sometimes he imagined a life where he had chosen Obi-Wan. Would things have gone differently? Would they have been the same? Worse? He would never know and he was alright with that; he had made terms with his situation some time ago. He just liked to torture himself with the what-ifs. Self-flagellation at its best. He had learned it from the best too.
Obi-Wan switched their positions. He was now on top of him which meant that he could go deeper inside of him. Obi-Wan's hands kept him steady, gripping his hips, and he decided to pick his own pace, and he met him stroke for stroke.
It was a heady thing, Obi-Wan's affection and attention. He only wished he could feel him in the Force. He would take even the slightest bit of connection; he missed the Force dearly. He had never been with another Force user before Obi-Wan and sex must feel different if both were Force-sensitive - if both shared a bond. He could only imagine the difference and it was with that feeling in his mind that he got close to his end, Obi-Wan helping him along.
Anakin would feel Obi-Wan's pleasure and his own. He wondered how Obi-Wan would react if he felt the burning he caused him. He might stop out of a kindness he didn't need or deserve and that is what kept him grateful for his collar.
With one final thrust, Anakin came and then Obi-Wan filled him.
It burned beautifully.
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