Chapter Text
“Only photograph what you love.”
— Tim Walker
The chilled spring air danced through Anakin’s hair and tangled it. He leaned back, embracing the angle, and waited for the camera to click three times before standing up straight again. “Are we good?” He turned and his blue eyes climbed up the golden gate next to him. “I want to actually go inside!”
Obi-wan lowered his camera and turned to Satine. “Please tell him that he’s free, he’s going to start throwing a tantrum.”
She chuckled and put a hand on Obi-wan’s shoulder. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.” She squeezed. “But trust me - you’ll want to photograph him in the Hall of Mirrors if it’s empty enough. Keep the camera out.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” He said. “I’m not putting this away for quite a while.” Obi-wan wouldn’t ruin an opportunity like this for anything. It’s not every day you get to capture the it of an angel in the ‘City of Love’.
Versailles was just the tip of the iceberg. They had gotten photos in Notre Dame, photos by the Arc de Triomphe, and photos in the gardens of Rodin. Anakin had been everywhere, and Obi-wan had captured all of it. Obi-wan was living behind his lens again and it was glorious, especially with Anakin being the subject.
The sneaked kisses and quick selfies on Anakin’s phone didn’t damper his mood either.
And Satine was right. Obi-wan got amazing photos of Anakin in the Hall of Mirrors. All of them candid, all of them splendid. Anakin was just too easy to photograph. It almost felt like cheating at this point. All the other photographers in the world had to work, while Obi-wan got to play. Satine was reveling in the masterpieces on the preview screen, each one better than the last.
But while Obi-wan and Satine were being fed a five-course-meal’s worth of legendary modeling, Anakin was getting antsy. It was becoming obvious to Obi-wan that this all might have moved just a little too fast.
But it was the most evident when they all sat down for lunch outside of the Louvre. They were swarmed with Fashion Week flies, photographers buzzing around the city desperate to get something, anything to put food on their table. Obi-wan respected their grind, but hated their strategy as they surrounded him, Anakin, and Satine after they found a nice place to sit outside of a cafe.
The lights from the other photographers flashed so rapidly and brightly that it burned Anakin’s eyes. He squinted against the lights. Obi-wan watched Anakin’s face twist, irritation bubbling just under his forced neutral smile. It was the same defiance that shined through on the talk show all those weeks ago.
“You too.” Satine nudged Obi-wan. “For his Instagram.”
“Satine, no! Just let him eat his sandwich!” Anakin cried. “Stop interrupting him just to get photos of me.”
“You are not an interruption in the slightest. The sandwich will always be there.” Obi-wan waved him off. “Please. Let me.” He looked through his camera and started to shoot simple lifestyle photos. Anakin made eating look like a high-art sport. “I can’t let everyone else do my job for me.”
Anakin turned to the photographers, giving them a dirty look. “You know.” He said. “You all haven’t gotten photos of me shitting yet. Should you get that too?”
“Anakin!” Satine and Obi-wan admonished him in unison, but Obi-wan had to muster a cough to cover up a chuckle.
He shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and shrugged. “Well, it’s true.” He said through his food.
The photographers blinked, stopping their tirade of film while looking completely lost. No model had ever spoken like that to them before. They all slinked away to the shadows like kicked cats. Only when they were gone did Anakin relax.
Obi-wan shook his head, incredulous. “Anakin, you have to get at least a little used to this. At least for this week.”
“What if I want to spend time alone?” The look in Anakin’s crystal blue eyes let both Satine and Obi-wan know that ‘alone’ did not mean ‘alone’. ‘Alone’ had a beard and a comfy beige sweater. Alone had strong shoulders and kind eyes. Anakin wanted alone time, really badly.
Obi-wan crossed his legs under the table.
Satine shook her head. “As soon as the show is done, you’re free. Deal? The rest of the trip is yours, no photos required.”
“Promise?” Anakin asked.
Satine nodded. “I would be willing to sign something over it.”
He smiled and nodded, obviously satisfied with his negotiations. “In that case, I won’t be mean to any more people. Unless one of them tries to touch me. Then I’ll bite their hand off.”
That’s all the motivation that Anakin needed to get to his show that evening.
Obi-wan chatted with Satine backstage as the models were slathered in body oil and glitters of all cuts and colors. Anakin, among the other models, was propped in a little chair as an anxious woman with rainbow hair flitted around like a butterfly, adding shimmers to every inch of exposed skin. Satine gave Obi-wan one last smile before running further into the backstage. When Obi-wan finally was able to turn his attention to Anakin, he paused. Worry creased his face. Every inch of Anakin was tense. His muscles were stone.
“What’s wrong?” Obi-wan kneeled by his makeup chair. Their eyes locked in the mirror. Under all the glitter, Anakin looked nauseous.
“I know I want to be an actor. And honestly, I still want to, I do. I like all of this, all the lights and the cameras. But…Obi-wan, I feel a little lost. It feels very…real right now.” Anakin swallowed. “I hate to admit it, but I’m scared.”
“What’s got you thinking about all this now?”
“It’s Paris Fashion Week. And I didn’t get my own bedroom until I was in high school. I had to share a bed with my mom because we didn’t have any room in our tiny apartment. And now I’m going to be seen by everyone. Everyone in the whole world. And I just…” He trailed off.
Obi-wan reached out and took his hand. “Anakin. Darling. You can stop at any time.”
“I don’t want to stop. But I’m scared.”
“Then do it scared.” Obi-wan said. “You think none of the models that came before you were terrified? You think no one else back here right now is? You have worked hard for this moment. Every single person here has. If fear was going to stop you, it would have stopped you ages ago. You are so much stronger than you think you are. Do it scared.”
Anakin and Obi-wan shared a look before kissing. It was a soft, chaste kiss. Then Obi-wan went to his seat, and Anakin went to rule the world, fear and all.
The show was just as gaudy and holographic as Obi-wan remembered. And Anakin looked just as alluring as he remembered. And the music was just as loud, and the makeup was just as glittery, and Anakin’s walk was just as charismatic. It was all a gift - a present, wrapped up for Obi-wan. A perfect memory. A beautiful life.
The crowd adored it just as much as Obi-wan did. Satine was simply in heaven. She was fanning herself and falling all over herself and hugging Obi-wan so tight that oxygen was a distant memory. The photos he got were exactly what Satine needed and she wouldn’t shut up about how Anakin was going to be something amazing .
He was it.
Anakin was it.
And they all were going to be better for it. Satine’s luxurious life would only become more stunning. Obi-wan’s life would only be more full. And Anakin, perfect Anakin, would be the most adored face in the entire world.
And Obi-wan considered, truly considered, what it would look like to fawn over that adored face forever.
Forever wasn’t as scary now.
Speaking of scary, Anakin seemed to shed his fears like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. As soon as he stepped onto the stage, he was his old self again. Whatever fears he had melted away.
When the got to the end of the runway, he winked at Obi-wan. Like he always did. Like he always would.
The date was shaping up to be exactly what Obi-wan wanted it to be. If he was going to risk it all taking Anakin on a date, then it would be the best date any mortal man could muster. The night after the show, Obi-wan took Anakin to a small restaurant where no waiters spoke any English. The food was authentic French food, rich in flavor with unique textures and presentation so beautiful that Obi-wan regretted not bringing his camera.
“Where did you find this place?” Anakin asked.
Obi-wan let himself get cocky, just for a moment. He winked. “A friend of a friend.”
Anakin gently kicked his shin under the table.
They walked arm in arm, through the Champ de Mars. The lights of the distant Eiffel Tower burned bright as they drew closer.
“If you took me here just to sightsee, I’m not going to judge. But I’ll think you’re lame.” Anakin smirked.
“Just trust me.” Obi-wan looked down at his watch and picked up the pace. “We have about two minutes.”
“Until…?”
“Until you see what I want you to see.”
“The Tower?” Anakin rolled his eyes. “I think all my model ‘friends’ have posted photos under it, and all my model friends have posted photos anywhere but here just to prove a point. Everyone has seen this dumb tower.”
Obi-wan shook his head. “Not like this.”
As soon as the clock struck nine, as soon as Anakin and Obi-wan made it to the top of a set of stairs that overlooked the entire park, the Eiffel Tower’s lights turned from a steady blaze to a spectacle of hundreds of bulbs flashing and dancing. It was like the stars themselves had lowered themselves to the streets of Paris and decided to put on a show.
Anakin let out a gasp of pure amazement, grabbing Obi-wan’s arm and gripping tight like a child. “Holy shit!” He cried, a smile forming over his face. “Holy shit.” While Anakin stared at the lights like he had never seen anything like it before, Obi-wan looked at Anakin the exact same way.
He grabbed Anakin’s hand that was on his arm. “I love you, Anakin.”
Anakin turned and looked at Obi-wan, blue eyes meeting blue. His features softened. He stepped forward. “Wait, really?” He chuckled. The lights from the tower glittered in his eyes.
“Yes, really.” Obi-wan smiled. “I love you.”
“Do you mean it?” Anakin said. His eyes glanced back to the glittering tower. “I need to know if you mean it.”
“I mean it. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Anakin leaned in and connected their lips, kissing Obi-wan under the lights with all the strength inside of him. He grabbed onto Obi-wan’s shirt, held him close, and didn’t let go. Even after the light show was over, Anakin kept kissing him. He didn’t stop till all the fellow tourists were gone, until the street was cleared.
Then Anakin dragged Obi-wan to his hotel room.
“I got you a surprise. For the date.” Anakin said. “Go wait by the bed. I’ll be in the bathroom. Don’t peek!”
Obi-wan did as he was told. He wandered around the bed, straightening the framed art prints on the wall while chewing the inside of his cheek. He tried to distract his mind the best he could. But all this composure disappeared when Anakin left the bathroom. When Obi-wan turned around, he was frozen. Overwhelmed.
Because there, in front of him, leaning against the wall of the hotel? Was Anakin, in pink blush lingerie similar to the one he wore during that amazing magazine shoot.
Obi-wan was at a loss for words.
Anakin bit his lip, slinking across the hotel room. His face bled nervousness but his body was all liquid confidence. “You liked that one shoot a few weeks back, yeah?” He hopped on the bed, bouncing on the mattress as he sprawled out.
“Anakin…” He said breathlessly. “You…”
“I thought you would like it.” His voice was soft. He stretched his legs out, the pink lace shifting around his legs. The bulge at the front of the pink panties twitched. Anakin’s navel peaked out above the high-waisted garter belt. His toes flexed in the stockings. With every movement, every detail, Obi-wan got hotter in his clothes.
He started to unbutton his shirt and peel off the fabric. “Anakin. You absolute vixen.” The pants fell off naked. Obi-wan needed to be naked, right now.
“I knew you would get excited.” He rolled over in the bed, showing off how deep the thong went between the plump apples of his bottom. He breathlessly laughed when the warmth of Obi-wan’s hands cupped his ass. “Jeez, you have no patience.”
“I’ve had endless patience when it comes to you.” Obi-wan said. His voice showed his restraint. He spread Anakin’s cheeks and let out a huff of air when he caught a glance of his entrance. “I’m allowed to slip now and then.”
Obi-wan rolled Anakin over back onto his back, his eyes trailing over the thick bulge under the delicate fabric. He leaned down onto the bed and used the weight of his tongue to lick a long, steady stripe along the shadow of Anakin’s length. The noise Anakin made was so horrifically pleasurable that Obi-wan wasted no time detaching the garter belt from the stockings and yanking the panties down. After the panties were on the plush hotel carpet, Obi-wan took his time to reclip the garter belt and admire the way the stocking curved against Anakin’s muscular thighs.
Then he turned his attention to Anakin’s hips. “Look at you, darling.” Obi-wan’s voice was low. Anakin’s length was leaking precum and curved up to his stomach, swollen and needy. His skin was hot. “Look at you. So lovely for me.” He dragged his nail along Anakin’s cock from base to tip.
Anakin’s hips stuttered. “Fuck!” He gasped.
Obi-wan started to lower himself on his elbows on the edge of the bed. He dug his fingers into Anakin’s thigh and leaned down to lap gently at the base of Anakin’s cock. He licked at his balls as well, and Anakin’s mouth didn’t stop whining expletives the entire time. Anakin’s skin was soft and warm against Obi-wan’s tongue, and his cries were music to his ears.
Obi-wan lifted Anakin’s hips and moved his tongue even further south, lapping gently against Anakin’s tight hole. Anakin’s back arched as he melted into the soft touch. Obi-wan’s tongue pushed and prodded until Anakin’s body gave way and let him in, letting Obi-wan taste to his heart’s content.
When Obi-wan was finally done with him, when spit and lust has dribbled down his beard and onto the bed, He pulled away and licked one long strip along the bottom of Anakin’s length.
“Obi-wan!” He cried, his head tossing back into the mattress.
“Come now.” Obi-wan stood up and grabbed Anakin’s thighs. He pulled him to the edge of the bed roughly. Anakin’s hair splayed out behind him. He looked up, dazed and lustful, and Obi-wan looked down with the raw power of a man endlessly and hopelessly in love. He kissed him, and they kissed each other, and their tongues swirled together until their chins were slick with spit.
They only pulled away so Obi-wan could grab the lube he brought out of his suitcase. He flipped Anakin over when he returned to the bed and poured the lube directly onto his ass. Obi-wan slipped two fingers between his cheeks and started to rub slow circles over Anakin’s hole, eliciting small whines and whimpers. Anakin’s back tensed up with more and more teasing. Finally, Obi-wan relented and stuck both fingers in Anakin’s entrance.
Anakin cried out and pushed up onto his elbows. “Fuck!”
Obi-wan leaned over Anakin’s back and gently kissed along the back of his neck. “Sensitive, are we?”
“Could be more sensitive.” Anakin managed to stammer out.
Anakin was already loose from Obi-wan’s skilled tongue. It didn’t take much for Obi-wan to have him weak and pliant, ready to take every inch of Obi-wan’s throbbing heat. Obi-wan spread Anakin’s legs as far as they would go and climbed onto the bed to sit between them. “Are you ready?” He asked.
Anakin’s face was just as flushed as his chest. “I’ve been ready all week.”
Obi-wan slipped in easily, every inch pulled in by Anakin’s warm heat. Anakin felt like velvet inside. The noises he made were like sweet music. This time, Obi-wan didn’t bother hold back. He had had sex with Anakin once, quick and dirty - but now it was time to fuck him. It was time to claim him, inside and out. With ruthless, endless love.
Obi-wan grabbed Anakin’s hands and pinned them over his head, pinned them next to his fanned-out sunkissed hair. “I think every single person in that audience would kill to be me right about now.” Obi-wan groaned out.
Anakin did not fight against the restraint. He melted into it. “Would you kill to stay here?”
“I would find a way to end the world.”
He keened with pleasure. “I love you, Obi-wan.”
“I love you, sweet little one.” Obi-wan leaned down and whispered right against Anakin’s ear. “Now. Don’t be too loud. We wouldn’t want to get a noise complaint, yeah?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Anakin laughed breathlessly, his body curved upwards into Obi-wan’s. Obi-wan captured his lips in his own as he began to thrust, in and out with a merciless rhythm. Every sleepless night, every yearning glance, every step on that runway - it was culminating here, at this destructive slamming against Anakin’s hips.
Obi-wan released Anakin’s hands. But not because he wanted to. He did it so he could wrap both hands around Anakin’s waist, so he could throw him around and force him to meet his thrusts with equal power, over and over.
“You packed this little dainty thing for the trip?” Obi-wan pulled at the elastic of the garterbelt with his thumbs. “You packed it, just so I would fuck you here like this. That’s how badly you wanted this. You planned for it.”
“Yes!” Anakin nodded, his body bouncing on the mattress. “I needed you!”
“Obi-wan, I can’t hold it in!” Anakin panted. Spit wet his lips, shining in the lowlight, looking like lipgloss and emphasizing his natural pout. “I’m going to cum!”
“Always finishing untouched. Always so eager to take me, so desperate to have me.”
“Kiss me! Please kiss me, I want to cum while kissing you-”
Obi-wan obliged. Their tongues pushed together in tandem as an orgasm ripped through Anakin’s body. Anakin’s hole tightened as his body shook, forcing Obi-wan over the edge. Obi-wan tried to pull away, tried to pull out, tried to limit his mess, but Anakin locked his hips against Obi-wan’s with his powerful thighs. Obi-wan filled Anakin up, white fluid overflowing around his cock and out of Anakin’s entrance.
They collapsed on the bed, side by side, completely spent.
They lay in the afterglow until morning light crested through the hotel window. They held each other close and dozed, not fully sleeping as to not lose track of each other. Neither wanted to leave this moment, not even to go into their own heads. They wanted to stay here, aware and awake, so they could feel their bodies intertwined for as long as possible.
“I love you, Obi-wan.”
“I love you too, Anakin.”
Obi-wan’s heart could not get any fuller.
The flight back to America was grueling. Plane rides were never Obi-wan’s specialty, but especially not red-eyes. The only thing getting Obi-wan through this was flipping through knitting magazines he bought at the airport.
Meanwhile, Anakin had just finished trying to watch a movie. Now, his crystal eyes were glued onto his phone, where he was failing at paying attention to whatever Satine had emailed him. The whir of the plane air conditioning was lulling him to sleep, his head bobbing as he struggled to keep himself awake. It was an adorable display.
Obi-wan reached over and rubbed a circle on Anakin’s forearm. “Rest, Anakin.” He whispered. “You can lean on me.”
Anakin did so, the free strands from his ponytail tickling Obi-wan’s neck. He fell into the touch with no hesitation. “Trust me, I’m going to rest. I am ready to rest. I can’t wait to rest. This is about to be the best vacation of my life.”
Obi-wan looked down at him. “Oh, I’m sure.” He closed his book and started to put away his seat tray.
“And we can spend this vacation together.” Anakir purred.
“I don’t have a vacation.”
Anakin scoffed. “What?”
“I have a shoot when we get back.” He leaned his head back onto his seat, his cheek pressed against Anakin’s head. “My own shoot. One I scheduled, with a model I picked. My shoot.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess without me, Satine can finally let you breathe.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m free from her shackles for a few months to work on my own things once more.”
“Your own things? With models you choose?” Anakin feigned a pout. “Without me?”
“I thought you were excited to rest.”
He nuzzled his face into Obi-wan’s shoulder. “Are any of your models cute?”
“Not as cute as you.”
“Don’t fall in love with your models, Obi-wan. That would be unprofessional.” His tone was painfully mischievous.
A laugh bubbled up in Obi-wan’s throat. He turned his head and gently planted a kiss on Anakin’s forehead. “Yes. Yes, it would.”
After his first shoot doing his own thing, his first shoot being able to call all the shots, his first shoot without Anakin - Obi-wan left the studio in a daze. Each movement he made as he hopped in a taxi felt like he was walking through water. Something was amiss.
It all clicked when he walked through his door and whipped out his cellphone. Anakin answered on the first ring. “Hey, sexy.”
“I choose this forever.” Obi-wan said.
“Hm?” Rustling could be heard in the background.
“Move in with me. Be my only model.” His eyes burned with vulnerable tears, which Obi-wan wiped away with a smile. “I am not stuck. I am saved. Forever is fine by me.”
Anakin’s smile could be heard in his voice. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
One month later, Satine’s gentle knock echoed from Obi-wan’s front door. When he answered, she was shocked. “Your apartment. It’s…full.” She looked around at all the new additions to the decor, from the paintings on the wall to the bright carpets to the warmer, gentler lighting. “Who are you and what happened to Kenobi?”
“You can blame your favorite client for all this.” He chuckled. “He’s quite the particular roommate. If you use the bathroom, try purposefully spilling some water on our shower mat. It changes color with heat.”
“Is your boyfriend a toddler?”
“My boyfriend has a lust for life that I’ve grown out of. But it’s nice to keep it around.”
“I’m sure.” Satine plopped onto his couch.
“Long day?” Obi-wan asked. He walked to his drink cart, the nice one Anakin had picked out and covered with flowers and colorful liquors, to pour them both nice drinks.
“Long week.” Just as she was starting to whine for wine, a black and white blur jumped onto the couch and started to roll on one of the cushions.
“A dog?” Satine’s eyes popped out of her head. “You’re a cat person!”
“Anakin isn’t.”
“Where is the little superstar?” She asked.
“He has an audition for some kind of dramatic show for teenagers.” Obi-wan said. “A Dawson's Creek kind of situation. He’s very happy about it.”
Satine made a noise of contentment. “A tv show is better than a movie. A tv show implies he has more time off.”
“For your work?”
“And your domestic needs.” Satine ran her manicured fingers over the blue and cream blanket on the couch. “You’re knitting again.” She smiled to herself. “Anakin has really brought out the best in you.”
“I am blessed, aren’t I?” Obi-wan’s voice comes out soft.
“You need more practice though. You dropped a few stitches.” She teased and patted the blanket.
Obi-wan sat next to her and passed her a glass of wine. “It’s hard to focus on the details when you’re sitting on this couch next to an angel.” Obi-wan could still see it in his head: Anakin, watching the TV, with his little R2 in his lap. The light of the TV shimmered on Anakin’s blue eyes. His perfect statuesque profile cast a lovely shadow on the far wall of the room.
“Obi-wan.” She rubbed his back. “I’m very happy for you.”
Obi-wan smiled, a true smile that reached his eyes and lit up the room. “I’m happy too.” He took a sip of his wine. R2 crawled over to him on the couch. And Satine told him about Anakin’s first bookings after his break. And Obi-wan’s phone buzzed, telling him that Anakin was on his way home and that the audition had gone great.
For the first time in a long time, nothing was missing in Obi-wan’s life. Nothing at all.