generale_kenobi (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} generale_kenobi) wrote,@ 2008-09-08 12:30:00 |
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FIC: Room 0017 (Obi-Wan/Anakin, NC-17) 1/4
TITLE: Room 0017 1/4
AUTHOR:generale_kenobi
GENRE: romance, angst
PAIRING: Obi-Wan/Anakin
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Room 0017 is a special place inside the Jedi Temple. Anakin has been
given access to it upon his knighting. Now, three years later, he is going to
visit it for the first time....
ROOM 0017
As many writers know, there are stories that are an uphill struggle to write. You cannot find the right words, or you have no idea of how to go from scene A to scene B.
Then there are stories that basically write by themselves. You just need to be quick with your writing to keep up with the flow of your thoughts.
The story you are about to read belongs to this second kind. It was plotted, handwritten and typed in three days—which could have been two if I had not taken an afternoon off to work… yeah, I need to do that too! :) It was a pleasure to write and I consider it, along with “The Stranger”, my favourite Obi/Ani story among the ones I have written. I hope you will enjoy it too!
A/N: In this story Anakin did not lose his arm to Dooku’s blade.
§
The place did not have a fancy or suggestive name. It was simply called Room 0017.
Anakin had been given directions to reach it the day he had attained Knighthood.
Along with the personal code that would now allow him to enter previously forbidden areas of the Archives, Anakin had received a box containing a mask, a bracelet, the instructions to use them, an access card and the rules of Room 0017.
The first rule was to always wear the mask when attending the place. Made in a special, shapeshifting metal, the mask did not cover features, it altered them, remodelling them in something totally different from the original. Anakin had been shocked to see how different he looked with the mask on, and had wondered what Padme would think if he went to visit her wearing it.
The second rule was to always wear the bracelet. It masked his Force signature, making it impossible to recognize.
The third rule was not to give his real name—pretty much granted, giving the use of the mask and the bracelet – and not to reveal any detail of his personal life that could lead to him being recognized. That implied the use of civilian clothes. The only Jedi garment allowed was the robe, used to go to and from Room 0017. Lightsabres, distinctive for each Jedi as their Force signatures, were of course forbidden.
The final rule was that whatever happened inside Room 0017 would stay there. A Jedi caught following another patron outside the room to discover their real identity would be permanently banned from the place. The same went for conversations: as long as one did not start praising the Dark side, what was said inside the room, even if it was a confession of some breach of the Code, had to stay there and not be reported or spread.
Anakin had read all the rules and then thrown them into the box, along with the mask, the bracelet and the access card.
What use did he have for a room where Jedi went to have unattached, strictly regulated sex, when he could make wild, passionate love with his wife every time he wished?
The box had been kicked under his bed in his new quarters and left there to collect dust.
Until now.
Anakin’s marriage to Padme had not survived the end of the war and their living together in almost permanent basis. Anakin had discovered something he had not realized while spending months away, on the front lines: politics, for Padme, came before him. Especially now, after Palpatine – the revealed Sith Lord—had been eliminated, but not before he had almost brought the Republic crushing onto its knees.
Anakin and Padme had started arguing, had grown distant, until the day she had asked for the divorce and he had consented.
That day Anakin had been happy they had kept their relationship a secret for, had they made it public, and had he left the Jedi, now he would have lost both his families.
Instead he still had the Jedi. He had good friends in the Order and, apparently, even the chance to find a lover among its members.
Anakin no longer wanted to feel love, it was too painful when it ended. It was best to stick with the rules of the Code and keep love and sex separated.
So, three years after having being given the box, Anakin dragged it from under his bed and prepared to visit Room 0017 for the first time.
§
The place was different from what he had expected—or perhaps not because he had any idea of what he would find. He was still trying to digest the idea that, inside the solemn, mystical, dignified Jedi Temple there was a room where Knights and Masters went if they wanted to have sex. A place where all the players knew the rules of the game and nobody would play dirty or be hurt.
Anakin had visited a couple of sex clubs during his padawan days, but Room 0017 was nothing like them.
There were no multi-coloured lights, no smoke-filled air, no people wearing skimpy, revealing clothes or leather harnesses.
Instead the place looked more like an upper level piano-bar. There was a counter with high stools and several booths with tables and benches. Droids served beverages and food, while a soft, tasteful music played in the background. A series of doors opened on the far side wall, leading to small private bedrooms.
All in all, it was a nice, serene place and Anakin relaxed, to the point he discarded his robe and hung it on a wall hanger, alongside with many others.
He sat at the counter and ordered a glass of Corellian ale, his voice sounding strange to his ears until he realized the mask he was wearing altered that too. Everything had been done to guarantee anonymity.
When his drink arrived, Anakin sipped it and looked around, studying the other patrons.
There were about fifteen people that evening, sitting at the tables or dancing on a small platform. There were both females and males, and all of them looked to be human. Anakin let his eyes wander, watching if someone would catch his interest.
He paid little attention to the facial features, probably because he knew they were as fake as the ones he was sporting, and concentrated on other details. The colour of the skin, the shape of breasts, their hips, the way they moved or gestured with their hands.
His eyes scanned all the patrons, but kept on returning to an auburn-haired man who was dancing with a blond haired woman.
Not very tall, but compact, he wore a light blue shirt that showed the hair on his chest, and a pair of black trousers that, while not being tight at all, evidenced the shape of his buttocks and legs, and the slimness of his waist.
Anakin was not surprised his interest was focused on a man. He had known since he his late teenage days that he was attracted to both sexes, but he had never acted on his interest for males. To make it simple, he was a bit put off by what being with a man would involve.
However, now, he could not take his eyes off the man with the blue shirt.
There was something very sensual, if not overtly erotic, in the way he moved, especially because, Anakin was sure, it was not done on purpose. That man was not trying to arouse anybody, he was just enjoying the beat of the music.
The music ended, and Anakin’s face fell when the blond woman walked to the man and wrapped her arm around his waist. They talked for a while, heads bent together and soft laughs escaping their lips, then they walked toward one of the rooms on the far side wall and disappeared inside.
There, so much for the evening, Anakin thought bitterly. The only person sparking some interest in him was already taken. It did not matter he would have never worked up the courage to ask for the blue-shirted man; he simply would have enjoyed watching him dance more.
“Hello, are you looking for company?” A male voice murmured close to his ear. Anakin whirled around and found a tall, lanky man with dark hair looking down at him with a hopeful smile on his face.
“No, thank you,” Anakin hurried to say as he shook his head. “I was leaving.” And before the other man could add anything, he was down off the stool and out of the room.
§
Despite the inauspicious start, Anakin decided to return to Room 0017, ten days after the first time. Maybe, that evening he would be luckier and find someone he wished to be intimate with.
As the previous time, he went to sit at the counter and ordered a drink. He almost choked on it when he saw the man with the blue shirt was there too—and he was dancing.
Anakin sighed, and lost himself in the contemplation of those swinging hips, until the moment a hand landed on his shoulder.
He raised his head and almost groaned. It was the lanky guy from the other evening.
“Listen, Mister, I am-”
“- not interested—at least not in me. Your body language is very clear on this.” The guy smiled. “But I know you are new here, and I thought you may like to talk.”
Anakin did not want to talk. He just wanted to be left in peace and watch “his” man dance, at least until the woman that was with him on the platform would drag him away.
“He is very attractive, isn’t he?” the guy by his side commented.
“Yes, he is,” Anakin answered. There was no point in denying it, since he was practically boring holes in the blue-shirted man’s back.
“And the most intoxicating thing is he doesn’t realize the effect he has on other people.”
Anakin just nodded, eyes still fixed on the man.
“You are quite taken by him, huh? Why don’t you approach him? Talk to him?”
Anakin turned to face the other man, “I don’t see the point. The other evening I saw him go away with a woman.”
The guy shook his shoulders. “Ben swings both ways, if a man interests him.”
“Ben? I thought one had to remain anonymous here!”
“Indeed. Ben isn’t his real name, just the one he goes by here. We all have fake names, it’s nicer than “Hey you”. Mine is Dek. And yours? You need one if you plan to visit regularly.”
Anakin mused for a moment. He needed a name which could not connect him to his real identity, but that would still have meaning for him.
“Luke,” he finally said, the name I planned to give to my son, if I ever had one…which is highly unlikely now, he thought but did not say.
“Well Luke, pleased to meet you.” They shook hands, then Dek added, “Now, if you want to make a move at Ben, you must act now, before the lady grabs him. But I must warn you, since I get the feeling you have not much experience with men, Ben is an exclusive giver, so you might want to take it into consideration before asking him.”
Anakin frowned. Giver? What did it mean?
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I understand.”
Dek smiled, amused, “Have you ever been with a man?”
Anakin shook his head. “Is it so obvious?”
“I’m afraid it is—we are all Jedi after all. A giver is a top. He is the one who gives the penetration,” Dek whispered explicitly when Anakin kept on staring at him blankly.
“Oh.” Anakin wondered if the mask would reproduce the bright flush of embarrassment that was now burning his cheeks and ears.
Dek laughed softly, “However, you must not worry. He is too much of a gentleman to force something on you.”
Anakin frowned again, a feeling very much akin to jealousy stirring him. He squashed it resolutely down, for it was ridiculous to be jealous of a man he did not ever know. “You seem to know many things about him. Have you been with him several times?”
“Unfortunately, I have never been with him. I guess I’m not his type. I know much about Ben because he has been the topic of many conversations since he started coming here, four years ago.”
“Why?” Anakin asked, wondering if he too was going to be a conversation topic.
“Because he suddenly popped up from nowhere. As you can easily guess by looking at him, even with his clothes on, he is not a young knight. He must be closer to forty than to thirty-five, and yet he never attended this place until four years ago. We found it curious, and wondered how he dealt with his…needs…before.”
“I see,” Anakin answered, distracted. Ben had stopped dancing, and was walking toward the counter—and Anakin. The young Jedi could not help but wonder if he was Ben’s type.
“Hello there,” Ben said in a pleasant low voice, offering his hand. “I’m Ben.”
“Luke,” Anakin replied, taking the other’s hand. It was smaller than his own, but as strong, the grip firm, the palm calloused. Anakin wondered what it would feel like to be touched by those hands, so different from Padme’s soft and delicate ones.
Anakin barely registered Dek walking away as Ben sat on the nearby stool and ordered a glass of white Alderaanian wine. When he leaned over to take the glass from the droid, Anakin got a sniff of his scent, a mix of clean sweat and cologne. It seemed somehow familiar, and it gave him a sense of safety and comfort. He wondered why.
“So,” Ben said after sipping his wine. “Is your first time here? I don’t think I have ever seen you before.”
“Second, actually. I was here ten days ago. You were here then too, but I doubt you noticed me; you were quite taken by your blond haired companion.” Anakin blurted with unexpected boldness.
Ben laughed softly, “I must have indeed been quite taken not to notice you. You are a very handsome young man.” The older man raked his gaze up and down Anakin’s white shirt covered chest and brown pants.
Anakin blushed crimson. Ben was flirting with him! He was not used to it—he was used to being the seducer, not the seduced. He cleared his voice and asked, “So, do you come here often?”
“No, not really. These two evenings have been the first times I came here in the past seven months. I visit here only when things become…out of control.”
Anakin did not truly understand what Ben meant, but he did not care.
He sipped his ale as he collected his thoughts, trying to find something to say, but failing miserably.
Ben saw his embarrassment and smiled again. “I like shy young men.”
“Uhm…I’m not usually shy…but this is the first time I have had such a conversation with a man.”
Ben’s eyes widened and he licked his lips. “But you seemed interested…” he said, hesitantly.
“I’m. It’s just I’m-” How could he say “I’m kriffin scared to have your cock up my ass” without sounding so crude?
“You are concerned about certain acts two men do together,” Ben supplied delicately.
“Yes,” Anakin breathed, relieved.
“But you see, there are other many things men can do together,” Ben whispered, looking straight at Anakin with bewitching eyes. “I would be honoured to show you some of them. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t like.” He offered his hand to Anakin.
Anakin considered the offer for a moment. Should he accept? He was aroused and curious and Ben truly seemed to be a nice man. Moreover, Anakin reminded himself, Ben was a Jedi—heck, everybody there was a Jedi and no Jedi would ever abuse another person. What better place and person to try something new?
So he took the offered hand and slid down the stool, following Ben toward one of the private rooms.
§
The chamber they stepped into was clean and simply furnished, with just a bed, two bedside tables and a chair. Nothing fancy there—Jedi were a practical sort and did not need silky sheets and mirrors on the ceiling!
Ben let go of his hand once the door slid closed behind their backs, and moved closer to Anakin. He was shorter than Anakin, and he had to lower his head to look into the blue-grey eyes that were staring at him. Beautiful eyes, Anakin thought, knowing they were really Ben’s and not a product of the mask.
“May I kiss you?” Ben whispered.
Anakin nodded, his heartbeat speeding up.
Ben raised his hand and cupped his nape, fingers tangling into his hair, bending the young man’s head to meet his lips. They were soft yet firm, with a strange texture surrounding them.
The kiss started slow, with no pressure. It was like Ben was waiting for Anakin to decide if and when bring it to another level of intensity.
Feeling more confident, Anakin opened his lips a little and felt the tip of Ben’s tongue enter his mouth, delicate and questioning.
A moan escaped Anakin as he opened his mouth fully and touched Ben’s tongue with his own, meeting and caressing it. Their ardour escalated quickly, and the kiss turned more passionate and demanding.
When they separated, they were both breathless, their lips swollen and reddened.
“That was nice…” Anakin commented. Ben just smiled and fingered the buttons of Anakin’s shirt, a silent question in his eyes.
“Yes,” Anakin breathed, his own hands rising to attack Ben’s shirt.
They both made a quick work of their upper clothes, and soon their chests were bare to each other’s gaze.
Ben was very nicely built. He was not as broad in the shoulder as Anakin was, but he was well made and muscled. His chest was covered by fine auburn hair that narrowed into a line that crossed his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. His skin was pale and covered with freckles, marred only by an ugly scar on his right upper arm, perhaps a memento of the war.
“You are gorgeous,” Anakin whispered, surprising himself.
“Really? I think you are more so. So smooth and tanned,” Ben ran the back of his fingers along Anakin’s sternum.
“I like your chest hair. It’s very…masculine. It was the first thing that attracted me to you the other evening. I liked it because I knew it was really yours, not like these mask-altered features,” Anakin confessed, brushing his fingers along Ben’s cheek.
“I, instead, was attracted to your squared, broad shoulders.” A smile. “It seems we like what we don’t have.”
“Oh yes…” Feeling bold, Anakin ran his fingers through Ben’s chest hair, enjoying the sensation.
Ben stepped closer, so that their chests pressed together as they kissed again, more passionately than before. Heat spread in Anakin as he felt something else press against him—Ben’s erection was digging into his thigh.
Anakin moaned when Ben’s hands slid down his back to briefly squeeze his ass. He broke the kiss and simply uttered, “Please.”
Ben’s long, nimble fingers went to Anakin’s trousers’ fastener, opened it, and pulled the fabric down.
Anakin felt no shame when his erection sprang free—he quite liked the look the other Jedi gave it.
Then, as Anakin got rid of his footwear and lowered pants, Ben bent and removed his own clothes, folding them on the nearby chair.
This was going to be the first time Anakin would see a naked man. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his former Master and best friend, had always been quite a prude—not that Anakin had ever been interested in seeing him naked! Well…it was not exactly true. If he had to be completely sincere, there had been a time, before Padme came back into his life, when he had fantasized a lot about his Master, but he had never really wanted to carry it on. Obi-Wan would have had a heart attack if he knew his Padawan was entertaining sexual fantasies with him as the leading character!
Anakin snickered as he pictured his Master’s face the day they had given him the box and he had been told about Room 0017. He could almost see Obi-Wan’s scandalized expression when he learned such oh-so-uncivilized place existed inside the Temple!
“May I ask you what you find so amusing?” Ben asked, back turned toward him.
“Nothing…I was just wondering what my former Master would think of this place and what goes on here. I believe he would die of embarrassment at the mere idea of putting a foot here.”
“Maybe—or perhaps he would surprise you by being a regular patron.”
“Nah…not my Master.”
Then Ben turned around and every thought of Obi-Wan left Anakin’s mind.
Ben…Ben was magnificent, all pale skin and slender muscles, and his cock was thick, probably thicker than his own, but shorter. It was also very hard, arching toward the older man’s belly.
Anakin reached out to brush it, and it was Ben’s turn to moan, very low and deep into his throat. The young man found the sound very arousing.
“Let’s get comfortable,” Ben murmured and Anakin nodded, moving to the bed.
They lay on the mattress, side by side, facing each other. They embraced, hands sliding around strong backs as the front of their bodies pressed together, and they kissed again.
Anakin loved the feel of Ben against him. He was both hard and soft, the skin hot and pleasant to the touch, his burning erection causing a thrill when it brushed against his own aroused cock.
They kissed for long minutes, then Ben pushed gently at Anakin’s shoulder, encouraging him to recline on his back.
“Let me know if I do something you don’t like,” he said, before he posed a line of kisses across Anakin’s chest.
The young man’s “Yes” was lost in a moan when Ben’s hot mouth engulfed one of his nipples, sucking on it delicately. Anakin raised his arms, treading his fingers in Ben’s hair as he pushed his head more against his chest.
Ben worked his nipples for a while, then moved his mouth lower, leaving a damp trail of kisses and licks as he slid down across his abdomen.
By the time he reached Anakin’s erection, the younger man was almost hyperventilating. He knew what Ben was about to do and his excitement increased to a dangerous degree. He just hoped he would not explode at the first touch on his cock.
Ben used his hand to steady Anakin's shaft, holding it up so he could gently lick its head.
Anakin whimpered in delight. Padme had sometime done this to him, but it was so much more erotic with Ben.
Ben explored Anakin's cock with his tongue, licking the vein on the underside and the slit at the tip. Then, when Anakin thought he could take no more, Ben fit most of his erection into his warm mouth and sucked.
Anakin moaned and clutched at the sheets, his knuckles turning white. "Ben," he panted, a plea and an encouragement.
Ben bent over Anakin, pushing his hips to the mattress to prevent him from bucking too much, and kept on sucking him, adding the press of his tongue along the shaft to the suction. Unable to hold out any longer, Anakin came with a yell, his orgasm intense.
When it was over, Anakin slumped on the bed, exhausted. He panted, eyes closed as he tried to calm down his breathing. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Ben’s face hovering over his own.
He raised his still trembling arms and pulled the other man’s head down for a kiss. He found it exciting to taste himself on Ben’s lips and tongue; the few times Padme had made love to him with her mouth, she had always pulled away before he came.
“That was so good…” Anakin murmured when the kiss ended.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Ben answered, his voice a little breathy, his pupils so dilated the blue-grey irises were almost invisible.
Anakin suddenly remembered Ben still had to come.
What would he want to do next? Anakin tensed in concern. Would he expect reciprocation? And if so, would Anakin be able to take him in his mouth?
“Shh…don’t worry so much,” Ben soothed, running his hand up and down his arm. “I told you we would do only what you are comfortable with.”
“Yes…but I want you to feel good too…”
“Then touch me…use your hands on me…” Ben rolled onto his back, displaying his angry-red cock.
“That I can do,” Anakin murmured, reaching out with his hands. He wrapped one around Ben’s shaft, stroking it lightly. It was a little strange to touch another man's cock, but he liked its feel, like silk over durasteel, and so very warm.
Ben’s breath hitched as Anakin mimicked on him the touches that gave him most pleasure when he masturbated. He tugged and pulled at the shaft, tracing the vein on the underside, and rubbing his thumb over the damp, swollen head. He used the other hand to cup Ben’s balls and pull gently at them, while increasing his pace on the pre-come slicked cock.
A few minutes later Ben came, a low moan escaping his lips. Anakin kept on milking him until he was done, then removed his sticky hand. He made to clean it with the sheet, but at the last moment he changed idea and brought it to his lips, sticking out his tongue to taste Ben’s come. It tasted salty-sweet, strange but not unpleasant. He liked it, and thought he could easily become addicted to the taste.
“That was very nice,” Ben murmured when he recovered.
Anakin smiled, happy, and lay down at Ben’s side. They stayed like that, close enough to feel each other body’s heat but not touching, for a while, until Ben groaned and sat up.
“I must go, otherwise I will fall asleep here.”
“Yes, me too.”
The two men stood up, collected their clothes and dressed in silence, while Anakin tried to work out the courage to ask Ben something.
In the end, when they were ready to leave the room, he took Ben’s wrist and asked, “May I see you again? This night was very special and I would love to repeat it.”
Ben smiled brightly. “I’m glad you liked it, for I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Great! When can we see each other again?” Anakin tried not to sound overly eager.
“What about same evening, next week?”
Anakin would have liked it to be sooner, but he respected the older man’s wishes.
“That’s fine. I will be waiting for you.”
Ben smiled again, and after a final, lingering kiss, walked away, leaving behind a silly-grinning, quite happy Anakin.
Part 2:http://generale-kenobi.livejournal.co
TITLE: Room 0017 1/4
AUTHOR:
generale_kenobi GENRE: romance, angst
PAIRING: Obi-Wan/Anakin
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Room 0017 is a special place inside the Jedi Temple. Anakin has been
given access to it upon his knighting. Now, three years later, he is going to
visit it for the first time....
As many writers know, there are stories that are an uphill struggle to write. You cannot find the right words, or you have no idea of how to go from scene A to scene B.
Then there are stories that basically write by themselves. You just need to be quick with your writing to keep up with the flow of your thoughts.
The story you are about to read belongs to this second kind. It was plotted, handwritten and typed in three days—which could have been two if I had not taken an afternoon off to work… yeah, I need to do that too! :) It was a pleasure to write and I consider it, along with “The Stranger”, my favourite Obi/Ani story among the ones I have written. I hope you will enjoy it too!
A/N: In this story Anakin did not lose his arm to Dooku’s blade.
The place did not have a fancy or suggestive name. It was simply called Room 0017.
Anakin had been given directions to reach it the day he had attained Knighthood.
Along with the personal code that would now allow him to enter previously forbidden areas of the Archives, Anakin had received a box containing a mask, a bracelet, the instructions to use them, an access card and the rules of Room 0017.
The first rule was to always wear the mask when attending the place. Made in a special, shapeshifting metal, the mask did not cover features, it altered them, remodelling them in something totally different from the original. Anakin had been shocked to see how different he looked with the mask on, and had wondered what Padme would think if he went to visit her wearing it.
The second rule was to always wear the bracelet. It masked his Force signature, making it impossible to recognize.
The third rule was not to give his real name—pretty much granted, giving the use of the mask and the bracelet – and not to reveal any detail of his personal life that could lead to him being recognized. That implied the use of civilian clothes. The only Jedi garment allowed was the robe, used to go to and from Room 0017. Lightsabres, distinctive for each Jedi as their Force signatures, were of course forbidden.
The final rule was that whatever happened inside Room 0017 would stay there. A Jedi caught following another patron outside the room to discover their real identity would be permanently banned from the place. The same went for conversations: as long as one did not start praising the Dark side, what was said inside the room, even if it was a confession of some breach of the Code, had to stay there and not be reported or spread.
Anakin had read all the rules and then thrown them into the box, along with the mask, the bracelet and the access card.
What use did he have for a room where Jedi went to have unattached, strictly regulated sex, when he could make wild, passionate love with his wife every time he wished?
The box had been kicked under his bed in his new quarters and left there to collect dust.
Until now.
Anakin’s marriage to Padme had not survived the end of the war and their living together in almost permanent basis. Anakin had discovered something he had not realized while spending months away, on the front lines: politics, for Padme, came before him. Especially now, after Palpatine – the revealed Sith Lord—had been eliminated, but not before he had almost brought the Republic crushing onto its knees.
Anakin and Padme had started arguing, had grown distant, until the day she had asked for the divorce and he had consented.
That day Anakin had been happy they had kept their relationship a secret for, had they made it public, and had he left the Jedi, now he would have lost both his families.
Instead he still had the Jedi. He had good friends in the Order and, apparently, even the chance to find a lover among its members.
Anakin no longer wanted to feel love, it was too painful when it ended. It was best to stick with the rules of the Code and keep love and sex separated.
So, three years after having being given the box, Anakin dragged it from under his bed and prepared to visit Room 0017 for the first time.
The place was different from what he had expected—or perhaps not because he had any idea of what he would find. He was still trying to digest the idea that, inside the solemn, mystical, dignified Jedi Temple there was a room where Knights and Masters went if they wanted to have sex. A place where all the players knew the rules of the game and nobody would play dirty or be hurt.
Anakin had visited a couple of sex clubs during his padawan days, but Room 0017 was nothing like them.
There were no multi-coloured lights, no smoke-filled air, no people wearing skimpy, revealing clothes or leather harnesses.
Instead the place looked more like an upper level piano-bar. There was a counter with high stools and several booths with tables and benches. Droids served beverages and food, while a soft, tasteful music played in the background. A series of doors opened on the far side wall, leading to small private bedrooms.
All in all, it was a nice, serene place and Anakin relaxed, to the point he discarded his robe and hung it on a wall hanger, alongside with many others.
He sat at the counter and ordered a glass of Corellian ale, his voice sounding strange to his ears until he realized the mask he was wearing altered that too. Everything had been done to guarantee anonymity.
When his drink arrived, Anakin sipped it and looked around, studying the other patrons.
There were about fifteen people that evening, sitting at the tables or dancing on a small platform. There were both females and males, and all of them looked to be human. Anakin let his eyes wander, watching if someone would catch his interest.
He paid little attention to the facial features, probably because he knew they were as fake as the ones he was sporting, and concentrated on other details. The colour of the skin, the shape of breasts, their hips, the way they moved or gestured with their hands.
His eyes scanned all the patrons, but kept on returning to an auburn-haired man who was dancing with a blond haired woman.
Not very tall, but compact, he wore a light blue shirt that showed the hair on his chest, and a pair of black trousers that, while not being tight at all, evidenced the shape of his buttocks and legs, and the slimness of his waist.
Anakin was not surprised his interest was focused on a man. He had known since he his late teenage days that he was attracted to both sexes, but he had never acted on his interest for males. To make it simple, he was a bit put off by what being with a man would involve.
However, now, he could not take his eyes off the man with the blue shirt.
There was something very sensual, if not overtly erotic, in the way he moved, especially because, Anakin was sure, it was not done on purpose. That man was not trying to arouse anybody, he was just enjoying the beat of the music.
The music ended, and Anakin’s face fell when the blond woman walked to the man and wrapped her arm around his waist. They talked for a while, heads bent together and soft laughs escaping their lips, then they walked toward one of the rooms on the far side wall and disappeared inside.
There, so much for the evening, Anakin thought bitterly. The only person sparking some interest in him was already taken. It did not matter he would have never worked up the courage to ask for the blue-shirted man; he simply would have enjoyed watching him dance more.
“Hello, are you looking for company?” A male voice murmured close to his ear. Anakin whirled around and found a tall, lanky man with dark hair looking down at him with a hopeful smile on his face.
“No, thank you,” Anakin hurried to say as he shook his head. “I was leaving.” And before the other man could add anything, he was down off the stool and out of the room.
Despite the inauspicious start, Anakin decided to return to Room 0017, ten days after the first time. Maybe, that evening he would be luckier and find someone he wished to be intimate with.
As the previous time, he went to sit at the counter and ordered a drink. He almost choked on it when he saw the man with the blue shirt was there too—and he was dancing.
Anakin sighed, and lost himself in the contemplation of those swinging hips, until the moment a hand landed on his shoulder.
He raised his head and almost groaned. It was the lanky guy from the other evening.
“Listen, Mister, I am-”
“- not interested—at least not in me. Your body language is very clear on this.” The guy smiled. “But I know you are new here, and I thought you may like to talk.”
Anakin did not want to talk. He just wanted to be left in peace and watch “his” man dance, at least until the woman that was with him on the platform would drag him away.
“He is very attractive, isn’t he?” the guy by his side commented.
“Yes, he is,” Anakin answered. There was no point in denying it, since he was practically boring holes in the blue-shirted man’s back.
“And the most intoxicating thing is he doesn’t realize the effect he has on other people.”
Anakin just nodded, eyes still fixed on the man.
“You are quite taken by him, huh? Why don’t you approach him? Talk to him?”
Anakin turned to face the other man, “I don’t see the point. The other evening I saw him go away with a woman.”
The guy shook his shoulders. “Ben swings both ways, if a man interests him.”
“Ben? I thought one had to remain anonymous here!”
“Indeed. Ben isn’t his real name, just the one he goes by here. We all have fake names, it’s nicer than “Hey you”. Mine is Dek. And yours? You need one if you plan to visit regularly.”
Anakin mused for a moment. He needed a name which could not connect him to his real identity, but that would still have meaning for him.
“Luke,” he finally said, the name I planned to give to my son, if I ever had one…which is highly unlikely now, he thought but did not say.
“Well Luke, pleased to meet you.” They shook hands, then Dek added, “Now, if you want to make a move at Ben, you must act now, before the lady grabs him. But I must warn you, since I get the feeling you have not much experience with men, Ben is an exclusive giver, so you might want to take it into consideration before asking him.”
Anakin frowned. Giver? What did it mean?
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I understand.”
Dek smiled, amused, “Have you ever been with a man?”
Anakin shook his head. “Is it so obvious?”
“I’m afraid it is—we are all Jedi after all. A giver is a top. He is the one who gives the penetration,” Dek whispered explicitly when Anakin kept on staring at him blankly.
“Oh.” Anakin wondered if the mask would reproduce the bright flush of embarrassment that was now burning his cheeks and ears.
Dek laughed softly, “However, you must not worry. He is too much of a gentleman to force something on you.”
Anakin frowned again, a feeling very much akin to jealousy stirring him. He squashed it resolutely down, for it was ridiculous to be jealous of a man he did not ever know. “You seem to know many things about him. Have you been with him several times?”
“Unfortunately, I have never been with him. I guess I’m not his type. I know much about Ben because he has been the topic of many conversations since he started coming here, four years ago.”
“Why?” Anakin asked, wondering if he too was going to be a conversation topic.
“Because he suddenly popped up from nowhere. As you can easily guess by looking at him, even with his clothes on, he is not a young knight. He must be closer to forty than to thirty-five, and yet he never attended this place until four years ago. We found it curious, and wondered how he dealt with his…needs…before.”
“I see,” Anakin answered, distracted. Ben had stopped dancing, and was walking toward the counter—and Anakin. The young Jedi could not help but wonder if he was Ben’s type.
“Hello there,” Ben said in a pleasant low voice, offering his hand. “I’m Ben.”
“Luke,” Anakin replied, taking the other’s hand. It was smaller than his own, but as strong, the grip firm, the palm calloused. Anakin wondered what it would feel like to be touched by those hands, so different from Padme’s soft and delicate ones.
Anakin barely registered Dek walking away as Ben sat on the nearby stool and ordered a glass of white Alderaanian wine. When he leaned over to take the glass from the droid, Anakin got a sniff of his scent, a mix of clean sweat and cologne. It seemed somehow familiar, and it gave him a sense of safety and comfort. He wondered why.
“So,” Ben said after sipping his wine. “Is your first time here? I don’t think I have ever seen you before.”
“Second, actually. I was here ten days ago. You were here then too, but I doubt you noticed me; you were quite taken by your blond haired companion.” Anakin blurted with unexpected boldness.
Ben laughed softly, “I must have indeed been quite taken not to notice you. You are a very handsome young man.” The older man raked his gaze up and down Anakin’s white shirt covered chest and brown pants.
Anakin blushed crimson. Ben was flirting with him! He was not used to it—he was used to being the seducer, not the seduced. He cleared his voice and asked, “So, do you come here often?”
“No, not really. These two evenings have been the first times I came here in the past seven months. I visit here only when things become…out of control.”
Anakin did not truly understand what Ben meant, but he did not care.
He sipped his ale as he collected his thoughts, trying to find something to say, but failing miserably.
Ben saw his embarrassment and smiled again. “I like shy young men.”
“Uhm…I’m not usually shy…but this is the first time I have had such a conversation with a man.”
Ben’s eyes widened and he licked his lips. “But you seemed interested…” he said, hesitantly.
“I’m. It’s just I’m-” How could he say “I’m kriffin scared to have your cock up my ass” without sounding so crude?
“You are concerned about certain acts two men do together,” Ben supplied delicately.
“Yes,” Anakin breathed, relieved.
“But you see, there are other many things men can do together,” Ben whispered, looking straight at Anakin with bewitching eyes. “I would be honoured to show you some of them. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t like.” He offered his hand to Anakin.
Anakin considered the offer for a moment. Should he accept? He was aroused and curious and Ben truly seemed to be a nice man. Moreover, Anakin reminded himself, Ben was a Jedi—heck, everybody there was a Jedi and no Jedi would ever abuse another person. What better place and person to try something new?
So he took the offered hand and slid down the stool, following Ben toward one of the private rooms.
The chamber they stepped into was clean and simply furnished, with just a bed, two bedside tables and a chair. Nothing fancy there—Jedi were a practical sort and did not need silky sheets and mirrors on the ceiling!
Ben let go of his hand once the door slid closed behind their backs, and moved closer to Anakin. He was shorter than Anakin, and he had to lower his head to look into the blue-grey eyes that were staring at him. Beautiful eyes, Anakin thought, knowing they were really Ben’s and not a product of the mask.
“May I kiss you?” Ben whispered.
Anakin nodded, his heartbeat speeding up.
Ben raised his hand and cupped his nape, fingers tangling into his hair, bending the young man’s head to meet his lips. They were soft yet firm, with a strange texture surrounding them.
The kiss started slow, with no pressure. It was like Ben was waiting for Anakin to decide if and when bring it to another level of intensity.
Feeling more confident, Anakin opened his lips a little and felt the tip of Ben’s tongue enter his mouth, delicate and questioning.
A moan escaped Anakin as he opened his mouth fully and touched Ben’s tongue with his own, meeting and caressing it. Their ardour escalated quickly, and the kiss turned more passionate and demanding.
When they separated, they were both breathless, their lips swollen and reddened.
“That was nice…” Anakin commented. Ben just smiled and fingered the buttons of Anakin’s shirt, a silent question in his eyes.
“Yes,” Anakin breathed, his own hands rising to attack Ben’s shirt.
They both made a quick work of their upper clothes, and soon their chests were bare to each other’s gaze.
Ben was very nicely built. He was not as broad in the shoulder as Anakin was, but he was well made and muscled. His chest was covered by fine auburn hair that narrowed into a line that crossed his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. His skin was pale and covered with freckles, marred only by an ugly scar on his right upper arm, perhaps a memento of the war.
“You are gorgeous,” Anakin whispered, surprising himself.
“Really? I think you are more so. So smooth and tanned,” Ben ran the back of his fingers along Anakin’s sternum.
“I like your chest hair. It’s very…masculine. It was the first thing that attracted me to you the other evening. I liked it because I knew it was really yours, not like these mask-altered features,” Anakin confessed, brushing his fingers along Ben’s cheek.
“I, instead, was attracted to your squared, broad shoulders.” A smile. “It seems we like what we don’t have.”
“Oh yes…” Feeling bold, Anakin ran his fingers through Ben’s chest hair, enjoying the sensation.
Ben stepped closer, so that their chests pressed together as they kissed again, more passionately than before. Heat spread in Anakin as he felt something else press against him—Ben’s erection was digging into his thigh.
Anakin moaned when Ben’s hands slid down his back to briefly squeeze his ass. He broke the kiss and simply uttered, “Please.”
Ben’s long, nimble fingers went to Anakin’s trousers’ fastener, opened it, and pulled the fabric down.
Anakin felt no shame when his erection sprang free—he quite liked the look the other Jedi gave it.
Then, as Anakin got rid of his footwear and lowered pants, Ben bent and removed his own clothes, folding them on the nearby chair.
This was going to be the first time Anakin would see a naked man. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his former Master and best friend, had always been quite a prude—not that Anakin had ever been interested in seeing him naked! Well…it was not exactly true. If he had to be completely sincere, there had been a time, before Padme came back into his life, when he had fantasized a lot about his Master, but he had never really wanted to carry it on. Obi-Wan would have had a heart attack if he knew his Padawan was entertaining sexual fantasies with him as the leading character!
Anakin snickered as he pictured his Master’s face the day they had given him the box and he had been told about Room 0017. He could almost see Obi-Wan’s scandalized expression when he learned such oh-so-uncivilized place existed inside the Temple!
“May I ask you what you find so amusing?” Ben asked, back turned toward him.
“Nothing…I was just wondering what my former Master would think of this place and what goes on here. I believe he would die of embarrassment at the mere idea of putting a foot here.”
“Maybe—or perhaps he would surprise you by being a regular patron.”
“Nah…not my Master.”
Then Ben turned around and every thought of Obi-Wan left Anakin’s mind.
Ben…Ben was magnificent, all pale skin and slender muscles, and his cock was thick, probably thicker than his own, but shorter. It was also very hard, arching toward the older man’s belly.
Anakin reached out to brush it, and it was Ben’s turn to moan, very low and deep into his throat. The young man found the sound very arousing.
“Let’s get comfortable,” Ben murmured and Anakin nodded, moving to the bed.
They lay on the mattress, side by side, facing each other. They embraced, hands sliding around strong backs as the front of their bodies pressed together, and they kissed again.
Anakin loved the feel of Ben against him. He was both hard and soft, the skin hot and pleasant to the touch, his burning erection causing a thrill when it brushed against his own aroused cock.
They kissed for long minutes, then Ben pushed gently at Anakin’s shoulder, encouraging him to recline on his back.
“Let me know if I do something you don’t like,” he said, before he posed a line of kisses across Anakin’s chest.
The young man’s “Yes” was lost in a moan when Ben’s hot mouth engulfed one of his nipples, sucking on it delicately. Anakin raised his arms, treading his fingers in Ben’s hair as he pushed his head more against his chest.
Ben worked his nipples for a while, then moved his mouth lower, leaving a damp trail of kisses and licks as he slid down across his abdomen.
By the time he reached Anakin’s erection, the younger man was almost hyperventilating. He knew what Ben was about to do and his excitement increased to a dangerous degree. He just hoped he would not explode at the first touch on his cock.
Ben used his hand to steady Anakin's shaft, holding it up so he could gently lick its head.
Anakin whimpered in delight. Padme had sometime done this to him, but it was so much more erotic with Ben.
Ben explored Anakin's cock with his tongue, licking the vein on the underside and the slit at the tip. Then, when Anakin thought he could take no more, Ben fit most of his erection into his warm mouth and sucked.
Anakin moaned and clutched at the sheets, his knuckles turning white. "Ben," he panted, a plea and an encouragement.
Ben bent over Anakin, pushing his hips to the mattress to prevent him from bucking too much, and kept on sucking him, adding the press of his tongue along the shaft to the suction. Unable to hold out any longer, Anakin came with a yell, his orgasm intense.
When it was over, Anakin slumped on the bed, exhausted. He panted, eyes closed as he tried to calm down his breathing. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Ben’s face hovering over his own.
He raised his still trembling arms and pulled the other man’s head down for a kiss. He found it exciting to taste himself on Ben’s lips and tongue; the few times Padme had made love to him with her mouth, she had always pulled away before he came.
“That was so good…” Anakin murmured when the kiss ended.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Ben answered, his voice a little breathy, his pupils so dilated the blue-grey irises were almost invisible.
Anakin suddenly remembered Ben still had to come.
What would he want to do next? Anakin tensed in concern. Would he expect reciprocation? And if so, would Anakin be able to take him in his mouth?
“Shh…don’t worry so much,” Ben soothed, running his hand up and down his arm. “I told you we would do only what you are comfortable with.”
“Yes…but I want you to feel good too…”
“Then touch me…use your hands on me…” Ben rolled onto his back, displaying his angry-red cock.
“That I can do,” Anakin murmured, reaching out with his hands. He wrapped one around Ben’s shaft, stroking it lightly. It was a little strange to touch another man's cock, but he liked its feel, like silk over durasteel, and so very warm.
Ben’s breath hitched as Anakin mimicked on him the touches that gave him most pleasure when he masturbated. He tugged and pulled at the shaft, tracing the vein on the underside, and rubbing his thumb over the damp, swollen head. He used the other hand to cup Ben’s balls and pull gently at them, while increasing his pace on the pre-come slicked cock.
A few minutes later Ben came, a low moan escaping his lips. Anakin kept on milking him until he was done, then removed his sticky hand. He made to clean it with the sheet, but at the last moment he changed idea and brought it to his lips, sticking out his tongue to taste Ben’s come. It tasted salty-sweet, strange but not unpleasant. He liked it, and thought he could easily become addicted to the taste.
“That was very nice,” Ben murmured when he recovered.
Anakin smiled, happy, and lay down at Ben’s side. They stayed like that, close enough to feel each other body’s heat but not touching, for a while, until Ben groaned and sat up.
“I must go, otherwise I will fall asleep here.”
“Yes, me too.”
The two men stood up, collected their clothes and dressed in silence, while Anakin tried to work out the courage to ask Ben something.
In the end, when they were ready to leave the room, he took Ben’s wrist and asked, “May I see you again? This night was very special and I would love to repeat it.”
Ben smiled brightly. “I’m glad you liked it, for I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Great! When can we see each other again?” Anakin tried not to sound overly eager.
“What about same evening, next week?”
Anakin would have liked it to be sooner, but he respected the older man’s wishes.
“That’s fine. I will be waiting for you.”
Ben smiled again, and after a final, lingering kiss, walked away, leaving behind a silly-grinning, quite happy Anakin.
Part 2:http://generale-kenobi.livejournal.co
