Life Happens Close to the Ground
Thanks to Jedimom for helping me brainstorm the idea
When the master's away, the apprentice will play.
So Sidious didn't give me permission to go out in public while he was off on Naboo. What he doesn't know won't kill me. It wouldn't do to get caught, though, so a little black makeup and a pair of sunglasses are keeping me incognito tonight. He can't keep me cooped up forever. I know he tattooed me to keep me in line, to keep me from being in polite company.
That's not the kind of company I'm looking for.
It's like an itch. I need to get out and experience something raw. Training isn't enough. Training isn't satisfying like the streets are. Life happens close to the ground, not cooped up behind walls.
He's tried beating the wanderlust out of me, he's tried brainwashing it out. He says that a good apprentice would obey his master in all things, that he never needed to get out and walk the streets. I know he's lying. How could anyone live with this kind of power and stay sane without losing himself in the teeming masses on a regular basis?
Or not so regular in my case. The bastard's damned good at keeping tabs on me. I'll probably get caught again this time.
Tough. I need this. It'll be worth it.
Feed the itch. I let it lead me. It always finds me something that takes care of me. Keeps me sane until the next time I break out.
A fight in a dark alleyway. I've passed a couple already tonight, but this one's different. This one reeks of a combination of aggression and the Force. Delicious. Six against one, but that one is a Force-user. Probably a Jedi. Right now, I don't care. He's angry. The taste is familiar, intoxicating.
Screw the "there can be only two" bullshit. For once, I am going to fight alongside a Force-user. I've always wondered what that would feel like. Sidious doesn't fight, just throws the Force around. He's neglected his body so long that he has no memories of how fulfilling exertion can be.
The Jedi's holding his own, but not winning. He's in no condition to refuse me. I leap into the fray, my back to his, and it's even more delicious than I imagined. The sweat, the crunching of fist against bone, and the Force twining between us. We are greater than the sum of our parts. We move with one purpose, a shared nervous system. It sings in my veins, dances in my head. We are a joint whirlwind of violence. It is glorious.
The six are no match for us, and soon are lying at our feet. It's dark, but I can see my fighting partner's shoulders heaving as he catches his breath. "Thanks for the assist," he gasps. "I don't know why they jumped me. Probably wanted to rob me or something."
The fight wasn't enough. I can still feel the itch. All it did was fuel it. It's hanging between us, and I can tell he feels it too. We're still connected. We're feeding off of each other.
"Hey, my name's Obi-Wan. And you are?"
I grab him by the back of the neck and drag him deeper into the darkness of the alley. "Not interested in talking," I reply as I rip off my sunglasses pull him in for a kiss.
Yeah, he feels it too.
Kissing has always seemed overrated to me. A distraction before the main event. But with him, it's different. I can't tell if it's the Force or just native talent, but I don't care. I can't get enough. Pressing him against the wall, hands roaming over his wiry body, mouths locked, I know this is what I was looking for. The fight was just foreplay. This is what the Force directed me to.
I let myself go, but not too hard. Can't have the Jedi leaving before I'm done. Can't let him know what I am. He knows I'm a Force-user, but he can't learn more. Besides, I don't plan on slowing down enough to give him time to think. I'm not here to think. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to be either.
We grind against each other, totally primal in our needs. He's given in totally, lost in the moment. A very un-Jedi way to behave. Good. I don't want lightness and peace. I want raw and real. I want to take him against the wall, pound him raw, feel him clench around me, hear him gasp for me.
Best prepare my Jedi first.
Unfastening his trousers, I growl, "I'm going to fuck you," as I wrap my hand around his erection. He nods wordlessly, breath already coming in ragged gasps. He knows the game plan.
As I pump him, his hands are everywhere: crawling up my shirt, raking across my back, grabbing my ass. I lean back in for a kiss, but am distracted by the tantalizing glimpse of a pale neck with the shadow of a padawan braid ghosting across it. I can't stop biting, licking, marking that neck as my own. He'll be a maze of welts in the morning, but I'll be long gone by then. The moment will have passed. Now is what matters.
"I'm coming," he gasps, and as he gushes, he puts his hands down to collect the issue. It takes all my self-control not to physically come along with him. The Force is strong between us, and it's trying to sweep me along for the ride. He's a moaner, but by the time I'm done with him, I'll hear him scream. Not with pain, like my sadistic master seems to prefer. It's infinitely more satisfying to spar with an evenly matched partner than to beat up on someone weaker than you. There's far more satisfaction to be found in the fight than in the victory. I don't know if my master has forgotten that or never knew it in the first place.
I'm not stupid. I know Sidious will kill me as soon as he's found an apprentice that fits his ideals. Until then, I intend to get as much out of life as possible.
The padawan's on his knees now, pulling down my trousers and liberally coating my erection with his semen. The tongue that earlier had skillfully worked my mouth is now dancing across my balls, and I have to grip the wall to keep my knees from collapsing. "Now," I growl.
He surges to his feet, pushing his pants down to his ankles, and leaning against the wall. Waiting.
I take him in one fluid stroke.
White-hot burning pleasure screams through my veins, and I feel his body singing just as loudly. Sex has never been like this before. Not even the most talented and inventive of prostitutes has managed to generate this kind of intensity. This is raw Force. This is the life beat itself. What I've had before was just animal rutting, pure physical release. This is so much more. More than just thighs slapping against thighs in a dark alleyway. Sidious doesn't know what he's missing, denying his flabby body like he does and living solely in the world of the mind, and I'm not about to tell him. This is for me. My refuge. My revitalization. My Jedi.
Our breath is coming in staccato gasps, timed to match my thrusts into his body. My fingers are laced through his, knuckles bleeding raw on the harsh surface of the wall. That enticing neck beckons me again, and I plant a hard bite at the base of his skull. He keens and leans back into it, as aware as I am that one sharp shake of my head would snap his neck and leave him dead. The predator in me is fully awakened; his body revels in the feeling of being prey.
So close, and I'm torn between wanting completion and never wanting this to end. He's moaning into his gasps, voice raising with every thrust of my hips as I drive deeper and deeper into him. There are deeper places to reach than just the physical, and I push myself in, feeling him open and clench around me. Inviting. Embracing. How deep is too deep? At what point do we merge, all boundaries dissolved, all secrets revealed? How far is too far? I drive deeper, finally feeling the barriers he's erected. He's deliberately keeping the truth out. He can tell there are things about me that he shouldn't know. He's unwilling to throw away his Jedi training, just as I'm unwilling to betray the Sith.
We're on fire, burning like a supernova in the darkness of the alleyway. My teeth bear down harder, and his keening increases in volume as I slowly rock my head side to side.
And then we're there, and I can feel the universe expanding and contracting all at the same time. His cries ring in my ears as I feel myself pouring into him, throat raw from the howls I only belatedly realize I'm making.
I only really understand what I had when it's gone. The void aches within me, but I would not trade this ache for anything. For a moment, I was finally fully alive. We were alive. We were the pinnacle of all creation. No one can ever take that from me. From us.
It's over. I have to leave before he sees my face. This is understood. But also understood is the unspoken promise hanging between us to meet here again. To once again become greater than the sum of our parts. I pull up my pants, then head back for home, to bide my time until the next escape.
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