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‘I can just sit on your lap.’
Obi-Wan knew he should have said no - especially when Anakin said it with such a look of delight on his face, eyes bright and lips curled in a smug little smirk as he waggled his brows. Obi-Wan was almost going to say no, that he could find his own seat in the concert hall and that it was his own fault he hadn’t booked a ticket ahead of time. But then he thought about how easily he could throw Anakin’s smugness back at him; pull the proverbial rug out from beneath him and agree to the half-joking proposition.
It had almost been worth it, too. When he had agreed, Anakin's face paled slightly, his eyes going wide as he asked for Obi-Wan to repeat his agreement. But instead of calling Anakin’s bluff Obi-Wan had only goaded Anakin on further, neither one of them willing to just give in and admit defeat.
And thus Anakin sat down on Obi-Wan’s lap in the small, intimate booth Obi-Wan had booked months in advance so he could watch his favourite rendition of ‘The Brief Reign of Future Wraiths’.
It wasn’t rare that Anakin found his way on to Obi-Wan’s lap, the pair sharing warmth or casual intimacy as they desperately sought comfort in a world that seemed increasingly keen to take it from them. Anakin didn’t really fit like he used to, his limbs too long, his chest too broad, and his head no longer tucked beneath Obi-Wan’s chin easily, the two of them having to shift and grunt their way into some semblance of comfort. But it was worth it in the end in order to feel Anakin close, even if he did weigh too much and made Obi-Wan’s ass go numb.
But in the theatre it was a different matter. Anakin had dressed up for the event, his Jedi robes abandoned in favour of loose flowing robes of dark blue and turquoise, the sleeves and chest embroidered with exotic plants from the famous gardens of Theed. It fit snug around his waist and tight along his shoulders, the tailoring bringing out just how broad and lean Anakin had become over the years, youthful awkwardness giving way to the steadiness of adulthood. He’d bothered to comb and style his hair, messy curls now made into soft ringlets that bounced with each step and nod of his head. He smelled like perfumes, soft and sweet, and when he turned slightly the light caught the sheen of highlight applied to the tops of his cheeks.
Just as the villain was exposing his plan to the audience in a raucous song Anakin started moving once more, his underside pushing down on to Obi-Wan’s lap in deliberately slow motions, rubbing the soft fabrics of Obi-Wan’s trousers against his length. Turning slightly he rested his cheek against the side of Obi-Wan’s head, one hand coming up to cup the other cheek, locking Obi-Wan in place.
“Anakin…” he said, trying to sound in control but failing terribly when a pitiful moan slipped past the edges of his teeth.
“I opened myself up before I came,” Anakin whispered.
The performers were now leaping about the stage, the orchestra whirling away on their instruments as sounds of fake cannon-fire broke through the theatre, delighting the captive audience. And all the while Anakin kept moving, rotating his hips in a way that made Obi-Wan’s cock harden. Biting down on Anakin’s shoulder, Obi-Wan tried very hard to pay attention to the show, but was beginning to come undone the more Anakin wiggled.
Though they were in a single-seat balcony box and tucked away in the shadows, Obi-Wan was still hyper aware of the fact that they were in public. Should anyone accidentally stumble into his booth they’d see it all: two Jedi, Generals of the Republican Army and war heroes in their own rights, fucking like depraved animals who couldn’t keep control of themselves.
The thought only made Obi-Wan want to do it more.
Especially when Anakin started panting and arching, writhing on top of Obi-Wan without shame or decency.
“C’mon, Obi-Wan, fuck me,” he said, his voice breaking through the swell of music and the high-note reached by one of the performers. “Got all dressed up for you and everything.”
“You mean you had Padmé dress you up.”
“It was still work.”
Obi-Wan bit his neck then, nipping at the taught cords. Anakin moaned obscenely and pushed down even harder.
Obi-Wan was leaking fully now, spilling into the front of his trousers as he started to buck up into Anakin. The dense smell of Anakin’s musk started to blend in with the perfumes, the heat of his body pressing into Obi-Wan’s muscles and sinking into his bones, filling him with reckless stupidity.
“Pull your robes away,” Obi-Wan begged against Anakin’s neck.
Anakin stood then, depriving Obi-Wan of his warmth and weight, but it was only for a moment, his hands working quickly beneath his robes as he set to removing whatever layers he needed to. As he did so Obi-Wan slipped his own trousers down, the banding hooked around his thighs as his cock sprung free. Stroking himself he spread his seed along his length, hissing as the cold air mixed with the brush of his hand and the slick of his precome. Glancing around, he made sure no one was paying attention to the pair, before he grabbed Anakin and shoved him back down onto his lap.
The touch of Anakin’s skin against his cock made Obi-Wan grunt in pleasure, and he bit into the back of Anakin’s neck as Anakin started grinding again, hips twitching back and forth and around and around, painting Obi-Wan’s messes along his skin. Fumbling around Anakin’s chest, Obi-Wan found an opening and slipped his hand in-between the folds of Anakin’s robes, finding his pec and squeezing it before playing with his nipple.
Anakin groaned and reached around to cup the back of Obi-Wan’s head, his touch a little unkind as he tugged and pulled at Obi-Wan’s hair, breaking it loose from its styled hold. Licking a stripe along Anakin’s neck, Obi-Wan went back to observing the show as they continued to move together.
They were nearing the middle of the second act and quickly approaching the meeting between the lovers, just before they would be pulled apart by the villain who would quickly make a mockery of their love. The serenade between the two lovers had always been a favourite of Obi-Wan’s, and he closed his eyes and rocked up into Anakin, enjoying how the singers’ voices blended with the sweetness of Anakin’s moans.
But before he could fully relax Anakin was moving again, sitting up slightly as he rearranged his robes. Obi-Wan caught a flash of Anakin’s ass in the darkness of the space, and he resisted the urge to pitch forward and bite into the flesh. Instead he braced the base of his cock and bit the inside of his cheek, just as Anakin sunk down on him while the lovers embraced on the stage.
Anakin was hot and tight around his length, his thighs braced above Obi-Wan’s own, the pair joined in a way that Obi-Wan never got sick of. It had taken some time for Anakin to be able to take all of Obi-Wan’s cock, but it had been worth the patience and training to be able to be fully encased within. Anakin wasted no time and once again resumed his prior movements, grinding Obi-Wan in as deep as he could go as he wiggled and whimpered on Obi-Wan’s lap.
His hand slipped back into Anakin’s robes and he grasped his neck, curling his hand around it to feel every gasp and swallow, the flex of the tendons and the dip of the knot on his throat. With heavy-lidded eyes and a cock-drunk mindset Obi-Wan went back to watching the performers, biting down on Anakin’s shoulder and making the fabric soppy with his spit any time Anakin squeezed down on him.
“Force, you’re so warm,” Obi-Wan said, his toes curling in his boots as Anakin whimpered, the sound of it carrying through to his cock. Thrusting up, he shoved himself in further. “So warm and tight around my cock. You’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Anakin whimpered. “Couldn’t wait to get you inside of me. Thought about your cock peeking out from your robes in the middle of the theatre, unashamed and just there - for me, to please me, to be inside of me.”
“You’re such an eager boy, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Want my cock all the time?”
“Every single second. Wish I could have you inside me all the time, stretching my hole or filling my throat.”
Anakin’s eyes were closed and his head had fallen back, his moans mixing with the sounds from the stage below. Grabbing Anakin’s jaw, Obi-Wan turned his head back to the stage.
“Enjoy the show - I paid good money for my ticket,” he said.
Anakin let out a soft sigh and leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the balcony. The new angle blocked Obi-Wan’s view of the stage, but it gave him a better angle. Gripping Anakin’s hips he held him in place and started thrusting up, slamming his cock in and out of Anakin at a rapid pace. Anakin’s moans matched the beat of the drums and the wail of the strings in the orchestra, mixing with the highs and lows of the singers as they belted out their undying adoration and obsessive love for one another.
A few more thrusts and Obi-Wan felt Anakin coming, his walls squeezing down on Obi-Wan’s cock, locking him in place. He continued to move despite the ache in his thighs and low-back, desperate to pleasure Anakin through it all. Anakin continued to pulse and quiver, and didn’t stop for some time, his orgasm curling and splicing through his body again and again until he fell back on Obi-Wan.
Sunk deep inside Anakin, Obi-Wan came as well. He kissed and nipped at Anakin’s stretched neck as Anakin pet the back of his head, happy little puffs of laughter slipping past his lips as he coaxed Obi-Wan on further, dragging every little bit of his orgasm from him that he could. As soon as he was done he collapsed back in the chair, arms limp around Anakin’s waist.
The orchestra had quieted then, the stage sombre as the second act was complete.
They dressed quickly as the lights came on for intermission, movement heard throughout the theatre. Tucking himself back into his trousers, Obi-Wan tried to cover up the obvious wet stain on the front with his own dress robes, but when he looked back up at Anakin he realized that it was useless to try and hide what they’d done. His curls were mussed up, cheeks flushed, and sweat plastered his hair down along his temples and the sides of his neck. There was no denying anything when Anakin looked like he’d just been thoroughly fucked.
That, or gotten into a fight with a Bantha and only narrowly won.
“Did you want something from the refreshment booth?” Anakin asked casually.
“You’re seriously going to go out there looking like that?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I’m not going to sit through another act without a stiff drink, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan sighed. It was so difficult to get the youths these days interested in culture.