Chapter Text
The bright sun made Anakin squint and frown as he left the Computer Science building. He was instantly far too hot in his black hoodie, but didn’t bother to take it off—he knew that he only had a short walk across campus to another air-conditioned room.
He grabbed some sunglasses out of his messy backpack and began trudging on autopilot to the other side of campus. He’d made this particular trek from the ugly cluster of Computer Science and Engineering buildings up the hill to the much more beautiful Liberal Arts quad thousands of times over the last four years.
The late May weather was beautiful, and people were running around campus with their families in black robes taking pictures, chattering loudly and looking happy. Anakin tightened his grip on the freshly printed document in his hand and swallowed thickly. He was not happy.
He’d been putting off this meeting for as long as he could, scheduling the last possible slot to meet with his thesis advisor and hand in his paper. Once he turned it in, he would no longer be an undergrad.
No longer Professor Kenobi’s student.
Anakin didn’t want to be done learning from Obi-Wan. He didn’t want this meeting to be the last time they were in the same room. He didn’t want this to be the last time he ever really saw his favorite professor—outside of maybe across the field at graduation. He didn’t want to be done. He didn’t want to say goodbye.
Professor Kenobi was the entire reason Anakin had ended up with a double major in Classics and Computer Science. Obi-Wan Kenobi was the best.
In the beginning, Anakin had only ever taken Ancient Greek to fulfill his language requirement. Studying a dead language was the only way to avoid having to spend years making inane small talk about the weather and his favorite colors in a language he’d never use with fellow students he’d prefer to avoid.
Two years of reading Ancient Greek? He had figured that he could do that, no problem.
He hadn’t even looked up the name of the teacher of Greek 101 when he registered, or read their teaching reviews online, because it really hadn’t mattered. He’d just wanted to avoid the alternatives. Anakin had sorely regretted not checking. He’d wished that he’d been prepared, because when Professor Kenobi walked in, it felt like Anakin was taken apart and put back together wrong.
Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi was in his thirties, a Hellenist, and had a DPhil from Oxford. He was an internationally renowned scholar, author of multiple famous books on Thales and Anaximander, Anakin’s thesis advisor, and a total fucking thirst trap.
Anakin sighed and jogged up the stairs to the doors of the combined Classics and Anthropology building. The air conditioning inside was a relief, but the whole building felt odd, it was very quiet, almost too quiet. The final exam period was over, and all the classrooms were empty. The halls echoed without the usual crowd chattering before and after classes.
He walked up the narrow stairs to the mezzanine filled with professor’s offices slowly, catching his breath and enjoying the familiar sight of all the long-outdated event posters and lecture fliers tacked on the walls. He took a deep breath when he reached the landing. He could do this. Turn paper in, say thanks, leave. That’s all. It would be fine.
Professor Kenobi’s door was closed.
Anakin swore quietly to himself and pulled out his phone to check the time. He’d been so sure that he’d left early enough, but sure enough—he was twenty minutes late. He had only meant to go to his robotics lab to print his thesis, but had gotten distracted as usual. The professor had probably gone home. He’d missed him. All that worrying, and he’d missed him entirely.
Anakin wanted to bang his head against the wall. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment before clenching his jaw and looking back at the door. He wondered if he should slide the paper under, or if an electronic submission would have to work. Obi-Wan usually hated that, he only ever wanted things turned in on paper so he could write all over them, but maybe a thesis was different.
He decided to knock, even though in the past a closed door had always meant that the professor was gone.
“Come in!” Obi-Wan answered back crisply.
Anakin started a little, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar, posh accent. He cautiously opened the door, sticking his head inside. Obi-Wan was typing quickly, staring at his screen, his back to the door. The afternoon light was coming in through the window, filtered by the broad, green leaves of the tree outside. Obi-Wan’s white Oxford was rolled to his elbows, and Anakin’s eyes caught and lingered on bare forearms, wrists and hands.
“Hello, Professor,” Anakin said quietly. He stepped inside and had a long moment of indecision about whether or not he should close the door behind him or leave it open. It had been closed. He probably wanted it closed? Anakin shrugged and closed it as Obi-Wan shot him a distracted look over his shoulder.
“Ah, there you are, Anankē.”
Anakin blushed at the nickname. At the beginning of his senior year, Obi-Wan had said that it seemed to be an inexorable inevitability that Anakin would be in his class every semester and called him his own personal Anankē. Anakin had just blushed and shrugged and made scheduling excuses, rather than be honest about how he chose courses. He didn’t care if he was reading Homer or Plutarch, he just wanted to be in the class taught by Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan turned back to his screen, typing for a long moment before hitting the return key hard and spinning his chair back to face his desk, looking over Anakin's sloppy hoodie and jeans critically. He gestured Anakin to sit, his voice dry, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forget about this meeting too.”
“Sorry I’m late, Professor.” Anakin sat down heavily in one of the visitor’s chairs, pulling off his sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair. He swallowed and looked down at the slightly wrinkled paper in his hands. “I, well, I lost—”
“—Lost track of time in the robotics lab,” Obi-Wan cut him off. “I’m sure you did.” Anakin looked up at him when he heard the smile in his voice, catching Obi-Wan’s knowing blue eyes and his playful smirk. Anakin felt flustered. “At least you made it, eventually.”
“Yes, Professor,” Anakin said, with an apologetic smile. “I really am sorry.” He held up his paper proudly. “All finished. I fixed the bibliography like you requested to APA standards. I think it does look better.” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and held out a hand, and Anakin transferred it over.
“Good,” Obi-Wan said distractedly as he thumbed through to the end. “It was a bit of a mélange of styles before.”
“Yes, Professor, I know,” Anakin grumbled. “I fixed it.”
“Very good,” Obi-Wan said. “I already know the content is fine, unless you’ve edited out critical sections without permission.” Anakin huffed a laugh and Obi-Wan looked up, meeting his gaze. Anakin swallowed and looked down. “It is a fine thesis, Anakin.” Anakin felt himself blush, and rolled the strap of his backpack between his fingers anxiously. Obi-Wan continued thoughtfully, "If you rewrite it in a more authoritative voice, we could submit it around and see if it could be published.”
Anakin looked up. He liked the sound of ‘we could’ anything. “Really?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, and sighed. His disappointment became evident in his voice: “I still can’t believe you’re going for a Ph.D. in Computer Science instead of Classics, Anankē, you are one of the best philologists I’ve ever met.”
Anakin couldn’t breathe. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Obi-Wan opened up his leather messenger bag and tossed Anakin’s paper inside, turning back to his computer. He began typing rapidly. Anakin stared at the back of his head for a long moment and then stood up, slinging his backpack over a shoulder, opening his mouth to say his thanks and go. His heart hurt, but he could do it.
Obi-Wan raised a hand with a finger up in a ‘just a moment’ gesture and continued navigating through menus and confirming boxes. Anakin watched, confused, until Obi-Wan clicked submit with a flourish and closed out of his program.
“There,” Obi-Wan looked back at him intently, his voice full of satisfaction. “I’ve submitted your grade. You are officially no longer my student, and you will never be my student again.”
Anakin felt his shoulders slump a bit. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” He swallowed and tried to be honest. “I’ll miss it.”
I’ll miss you.
“I certainly won’t.” Obi-Wan was standing up, and Anakin frowned at him.
“What?” He watched with confusion as Obi-Wan walked around the desk and towards him, crowding him backwards towards the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. Anakin’s confused eyes darted from Obi-Wan’s tidy copper hair down to his leather wingtips, and back up to his bright blue eyes. “Why?” He felt slightly hurt.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him. He was standing right in front of him, closer than he’d ever been. He could see the different shades of blue in Obi-Wan’s eyes. He felt frozen, not understanding what was happening, his face was burning.
“You’ve been driving me insane,” Obi-Wan said emphatically. Anakin’s eyes flicked between Obi-Wan’s, trying to read his expression. Obi-Wan shook his head slightly and exhaled hard. He grabbed Anakin by the nape of the neck and pulled him close. Anakin made a surprised noise deep in his throat when Obi-Wan touched him, and felt his eyebrows rise.
Obi-Wan’s lips suddenly pressed gently against his, and Anakin’s eyes opened widely and then slid closed. He felt like gravity flipped directions, he couldn’t think clearly—his brain felt disconnected. He dropped his bag and let Obi-Wan walk him backwards against the bookshelf with a loud thump.
Anakin’s mind was stuck on a loop of Obi-Wan is kissing me, I’m kissing Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan is kissing me. He melted, tentatively raising his hands to slide up Obi-Wan’s back, pulling him closer. Obi-Wan’s lips moved against his, gently licking and then sucking on his bottom lip. Anakin moaned and broke the kiss, jerking his head back and clunking it against a large dictionary. He said, rather stupidly, “Not just me?”
“Christ, no, you oblivious idiot.” Obi-Wan kissed him again. “You are brilliant, Anankē, but probably the most oblivious person on the planet.” His mouth moved down to Anakin’s neck. Anakin’s pulse was racing, his breathing was shallow.
“I didn’t expect it,” Anakin gasped as he defended himself, enjoying everything about Obi-Wan’s proximity, his scent, his freckles, his eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible. You’re… I’m just...” He blinked and shook his head slightly. “I never assumed...”
“I know you didn’t, darling.” Anakin’s eyes closed as he felt a spike of desire, he was starting to feel dizzy with how quickly blood was leaving his brain to fill his cock. Obi-Wan was still talking as he sucked a line of kisses down Anakin’s neck. “It was for the best. The entire department thought we were fucking for years now.”
The sound of Obi-Wan saying fucking like that was incredible—hearing him whisper it into his ear as he sucked on his throat was so overwhelmingly incredible that it took several seconds for Anakin to register the content of the sentence. He jerked his head back into the dictionary again and frowned. “What!?”
“Well,” Obi-Wan said, consolingly, pecking him gently, “Everyone likes to gossip, but everyone knew I would never break the rules so nothing came of it.”
“Oh,” Anakin said lamely. He didn’t understand how he’d missed something that big. He had spent most of his time outside of class in the robotics lab working on Threepio and Artoo, so he missed inside jokes a lot.
“I will not miss the infernal gossip, and now I can touch you.” Obi-Wan kissed him again, softly. “So no, I will not miss you being my student, paidika.”
Anakin whined, leaning forward to rub his cheek against Obi-Wan’s beard, like he’d always wanted to. It was both soft and rough, exactly like it should be. He nuzzled him again and murmured back, “Erastēs, please, I need you to touch me.”
Obi-Wan hummed approvingly and said, “Take off this infernal hoodie, Anakin, it’s practically 35 degrees outside.”
“It’s much warmer than that, Professor,” Anakin smirked as he unzipped and shrugged it off, standing in his grease-stained V-neck and jeans.
Obi-Wan gave him an exasperated look. “Shut up.” He kissed Anakin again, hands raking through his hair, grabbing his curls gently. “Do you own a comb, Anankē? I have genuinely wondered for years.”
“Probably somewhere,” Anakin shrugged. “My fingers work fine.”
Obi-Wan made a skeptical noise. “Do they?” He reached a hand to grab Anakin’s, bringing it to the front of his slacks. Anakin groaned when he felt how hard Obi-Wan’s cock was—how big it was. He wrapped his fingers around and slid along his length.
“Professor,” Anakin said wonderingly.
Obi-Wan moaned and muttered fervently. “God, Professor this and Professor that, if I had to hear you say it one more time in public I was going to murder you outright.”
Anakin laughed, looking into Obi-Wan’s face curiously. “Why?”
Obi-Wan just rolled his eyes and pressed his cock into Anakin’s hand again. “Why do you think, Anankē? It made me hard when I was trying to teach.”
Anakin’s eyelids fluttered shut and he whined. “No, it didn’t… It couldn't have...” He slid his hand along Obi-Wan’s cock again. He was so big.
“It did.” Obi-Wan kissed him again, and Anakin whimpered, his own cock so unbelievably hard there was a wet spot on his jeans just from their talking, just from their kissing. “You genuinely have no idea what you look like and sound like, do you? The effect you have on people around you?” Anakin shook his head. “You are so frustrating, paidika, I’ve wanted to strangle you.”
“Hey,” Anakin felt himself pout slightly. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, ever.” Obi-Wan smiled. “You impossible creature.” He kissed the pout from Anakin’s lips, until Anakin was smiling too.
“Professor,” Anakin whispered. “Please...” He pressed his hips forward so that his hard cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s. “Please.”
Suddenly, Anakin was being moved. Obi-Wan carefully pushed several precarious piles of books to the side and then pushed him back roughly on his desk, unbuttoning Anakin’s pants and jerking them down. Anakin moaned when his cock was exposed, and Obi-Wan smirked down at him. “Shoes off.”
Anakin nodded and kicked off his sneakers, letting Obi-Wan pull his jeans all the way off. Obi-Wan pulled Anakin’s legs apart and stood between them, pushing up Anakin’s shirt and stroking a hand down his chest. “Good, paidika, very good.” He kissed him hard, fingers lightly brushing Anakin’s cock before stepping away.
Anakin’s breath was shaky. He pulled off his shirt entirely and felt a spike of arousal at being naked on Obi-Wan’s desk, while Obi-Wan was still fully dressed. He watched as Obi-Wan picked up his messenger bag and pulled out a bottle of lube and a foil packet. Anakin laughed, “You carry that around?”
Obi-Wan gave him a look. “Not every day.”
“Today?” Anakin felt his blush deepening. He spread his legs again as Obi-Wan came back to stand between them, making his cock bounce slightly. Obi-Wan smiled at him, his eyes flicking from Anakin’s down his chest to his cock and back up.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed, popping the top of the lube. “Today.”
Anakin whined, “For me?” He couldn’t believe that Obi-Wan had planned this.
“Yes, for you.” Obi-Wan said wryly as he dispensed some lube on his fingers.
“Oh,” Anakin gasped as Obi-Wan’s fingers first brushed the sensitive skin under his balls, sliding back towards his entrance. He spoke quickly. “You won’t need to do much of that, Professor.”
Obi-Wan absently began stroking Anakin’s cock, looking down at him curiously. “Why?”
“I’m already…” He moaned at Obi-Wan's increasingly firm grip on his cock, feeling his face burn. “I’m almost already ready for you.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan’s voice was sharper, his other hand coming up to gently touch Anakin’s entrance, making him gasp. “Why, Anakin?”
Anakin whimpered, biting his lip. “I knew I was going to see you so…”
“So?” Obi-Wan pressed a finger inside Anakin, made a speculative face, and then slid in two. Anakin whined and tossed his head back.
“I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be distracted, so I tried to take the edge off.”
Obi-Wan’s voice was rough. “Are you saying that you got yourself off before you came to see me? You came on your fingers thinking about me?” He began fucking Anakin faster with his fingers.
“Yes, I did,” Anakin panted. Obi-Wan’s hand sped up on his cock and Anakin moaned, admitting shyly, “I’ve had to before class for years, why would this be any different?”
Obi-Wan groaned at that, and slipped in another finger, stretching him out quickly. Anakin opened his legs wider, trying to make room. Obi-Wan kissed him deeply, and Anakin was suddenly overwhelmed—Obi-Wan’s fingers were fucking him, his other hand was stroking his cock, and his tongue was in his mouth. Anakin felt so close to coming that he couldn’t kiss right, and he pulled his head back, gasping.
“Please, Professor, please, I’m ready, I need it, I want you to—”
Obi-Wan slid his fingers out, and roughly opened his pants, pulling out his cock. Anakin’s eyes widened. Since when did Professor Kenobi have a cock that big? Obi-Wan laughed at his expression and grabbed the condom and the lube, rolling it on and slicking himself liberally. “Don’t worry, my beautiful paidika, you can take it.”
Anakin nodded fiercely, opening his legs wider. “Please, Professor, I need—”
“I know,” Obi-Wan agreed, resting the head of his cock against Anakin’s prepared entrance and pausing. Anakin whined and shifted his hips slightly, begging for it, but Obi-Wan still didn’t move. Anakin looked up desperately, trying to read Obi-Wan’s face.
Obi-Wan was smiling widely, looking down at him, sighing contentedly before saying, “Finally,” and pressing the tip of his cock inside.
Anakin made a disbelieving noise at the stretch, looking down to watch Obi-Wan’s massive cock sliding inside of him slowly. He whined and slumped back, his head hitting the desk with a clunk as he took it, trying to relax into the feeling. Obi-Wan laughed and Anakin felt him fuck in a little harder, pushing in a little deeper, working himself inside.
Obi-Wan’s hand returned to Anakin’s cock and began stroking him again slowly as he fucked him. Anakin moaned loudly and then blushed and cut himself off. He was glad nobody was around, but he still didn’t want to be too loud.
“Don’t be quiet,” Obi-Wan said, his hips finally meeting Anakin’s. Anakin moaned again, he was so full. He was stuffed full of Obi-Wan’s cock. Obi-Wan was inside him. He was so deep, he was so thick—Obi-Wan began sliding in and out slowly, getting Anakin used to him, getting Anakin to relax completely. “I want to hear you.”
“Yes, Professor,” Anakin said breathily. Obi-Wan’s hips jerked and he groaned loudly.
Obi-Wan spoke thickly, his speed increasing, the sound of their hips slapping together beginning to fill the small office. “You were so frustrating, Anakin, taking the last possible day, putting off as long as possible the moment that I could fuck you.” He thrust his hips harder. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Anankē, but you really have been driving me insane.”
“Sorry, Professor,” Anakin looked up at him, feeling vulnerable. “I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want it to be over.”
“I know, dear one. ” Obi-Wan pushed Anakin’s apart legs wider and began fucking him rapidly. Anakin’s eyes rolled back and his head hit the desk again with another loud thunk. “It’s not over.” Obi-Wan vowed, and Anakin met his intense gaze. “You are not leaving.”
Anakin nodded loosely. “I’m going to graduate school here.” He whined as Obi-Wan shifted his hips for a better angle and began fucking him harder, thrusting in deliberately. “For AI stuff.”
“I know you are, Anakin.” Obi-Wan bent forward, pulling him back up slightly by the neck, kissing him hard before letting him drop back. “I had been hoping you would. I need you around, I already told you that, my Anankē.”
“Yes, Professor,” Anakin whined. ”I need you too. I...” Obi-Wan’s hand sped up on his cock, fucking him hard. Anakin moaned loudly and then whimpered. “I love you.” Obi-Wan’s rhythm broke off, and Anakin gasped. He hadn’t meant to say that. “Sorry, I mean, I—”
“I love you too,” Obi-Wan said roughly, fucking him even harder into the desk. Anakin couldn’t believe it. He felt like he was floating, he was so close to coming. Obi-Wan murmured, “You impossible, brilliant, idiot.” and jerked his cock hard, squeezing the head and twisting his wrist gently.
Anakin cried out loudly and came, spilling his come onto his stomach and chest. Obi-Wan fucked him through his orgasm, and he slid a finger through Anakin’s come and tasted it. Anakin whined as Obi-Wan sucked his finger clean and groaned, his hands coming to grip Anakin’s hips tightly, holding him steady, fucking him hard. Anakin’s legs fell open wide, he opened himself up as much as possible to take Obi-Wan’s massive cock as well as he could.
“Please, Professor,” Anakin murmured, reaching up and touching Obi-Wan's face, stroking his beard. “I want you to come, I want to see it. Will you come in me, please, Obi-Wan, please—”
At the sound of his name, Obi-Wan’s face looked almost pained. He fucked in hard, hips jerking, and groaned, “Anankē.” Anakin smiled widely, holding eye contact, and Obi-Wan groaned again, louder, and slammed his hips in a final time before he came, his head dropping forward as his body tensed. Anakin watched, fascinated. It was the best thing he’d ever seen.
There was a long quiet moment as Obi-Wan’s orgasm cleared. Anakin was breathing deeply, processing what had just happened—what he’d just learned. He was so happy, he just couldn't believe it. Obi-Wan kissed him on the forehead and pulled out, making Anakin whine with disappointment. Obi-Wan huffed a laugh and stepped back to his bag, pulling out a packet of wet wipes.
“You are such a neat freak.” Anakin laughed.
Obi-Wan smirked at him and began to clean them both up, snarking back, “You’re welcome."
Anakin sighed happily, letting him wipe his chest and stomach. “I love you.”
“And I you, my Anankē.”